Give Me Forever Love (Give Me Series Book 3)

by Paige P. Horne

  He lifts his brow, obviously surprised at my tone. I have a feeling not many people speak to him like that.

  “I’ve got a proposition for you,” he says with a slight tilt of his head, revealing a thick black cross on his neck.

  “Oh yeah?” I question.

  “I know things aren’t looking good for you.”

  “And how do you know that?” I ask, lifting my chin.

  He sighs. “Bryce, I know people high up on the ladder. Those lawyers you’ve hired aren’t going to be able to make this disappear. You’re in some deep shit. They’ve got you for racketeering. The prosecutor has it out for you and he wants to make an example.”

  “I got caught two days ago. How the fuck do you know all of this already?”

  “I hear things,” he says on a shrug. “I got my brother to make some phone calls. The judge is a nasty motherfucker,” he says. “Between him and the DA, you will be doing hard time.”

  I narrow my eyes before running a hand over my chin, two-day stubble scratching my digits.

  “And how do I know any of this is true?”

  He leans back again. “I guess you just have to trust me.”

  “Oh, you mean like I trusted you before?” I question. “Because I don’t think that went the way I wanted it to.”

  I hired Bones and his crew to get rid of Cain, Claire’s crazy ex. They cut his throat, but somehow, he got help and recovered. He came back and manipulated Claire’s life.

  He bought a fucking restaurant and set it all up for her to work there as the head chef.

  It was all a ploy to get to her. She had no idea he owned it, thinking it was someone making an investment who wished to be a silent partner.

  Sadly, my girl got mixed up in it all. She still has scars on her wrists from that sick piece of shit. He’s with the worms now. Bones did rectify his slipup. Cain had a knife and was about to try to put it through me, but Bones showed up and put a bullet between his eyes.

  Still, the girls wouldn’t have had to go through that if this guy right here would have done what I paid him to do.

  “I believe the end result was what you wanted.” He lifts his hand from the table. “Johnny was reprimanded for his fuck-up. He should have cleaned that mess up right then, but he had a little emergency going on and hired some small time to do it for him. The guy failed to mention Cain got away. But he was taken care of. We don’t normally let other people handle our responsibilities.

  “Like I mentioned already, loose ends aren’t my style. I apologized to you for that.” His dark eyes fixate on me. “I won’t do it again. Lying to you benefits me in no way. So, let’s get down to business. The reason I’m here.”

  I narrow my eyes at this fucker. My blood pumps a little harsher, and my jaw tightens.

  “You don’t want any trouble with me, Bryson.”

  I tilt my head and smirk. “Call me by my family name again and I’ll show you trouble.”

  He chuckles and holds his hands palms up, but Bones isn’t scared of me and I’m not scared of him.

  It’s a bad thing for both of us.

  “You don’t back down, do you?” he asks.

  “Do you?” I reply with a lift of my brow.

  “No.” His reply is quick. “But I don’t want to be your enemy. We can both benefit from a friendship. Mutual respect, even.

  “The Judge, like I said, is a real son of a bitch, but he likes the finer things in life.”

  I lift my chin and adjust my crossed arms, trying to figure out where he’s going with this.

  “He can be bought,” Bones says, reading my mind. “I can make that happen.”

  “And why would you do that for me?”

  “You have something I wish to have.”

  “Do I?” I question.

  He twirls a gold ring on his finger before reaching into his blazer pocket and pulling out a cigarillo with a box of matches. My eyes jump to the door where the guard went out. This man’s really about to smoke that in here.

  Shit, why not?

  What can’t he do?

  He places the brown wrapper between his lips before striking a single match against its box. He lights the end, replacing the smell of bleach cleaner with a rich woodsy scent. Whips of silver-gray smoke permeates the room, giving off a hazy effect.

  “Red,” he replies.

  “Red? The fuck you want my club for?”

  “Why wouldn’t I? It’s the most successful one in

  town.”

  “Bullshit,” I reply.

  A deep wrinkle settles on his brow. “It’s not?”

  This fool. He knows that’s not what I’m talking about.

  “Cut the shit and explain to me why a man who lives all the way up the East Coast would want to own a club down here?”

  “It’s an investment.” He shrugs, hitting his smoke again.

  I shake my head. “You don’t seem like the type to be a silent investor.”

  His left eye flinches slightly.

  He’s lying through his fucking teeth. That’s why the man would rather play roulette. It has nothing to do with luck, like he said when I first met him. He’s a shitty liar. He’d be murdered in poker.

  “The basement has been shut down,” I say. “But I’m sure you already know this.”

  “I’m aware. But it won’t be for long, and that’s another thing I’m willing to pay you for.”

  “What? The equipment left over?” I smirk.

  “No. Your list.”

  “What list?” I ask, knowing exactly what he’s talking about.

  My list of clients.

  I have all of their information. Background checks, what they do for a living. I even know where they fuck and take a shit.

  I was that good.

  My business was that organized.

  But Jace had to go and screw that up for me.

  He and his little girlfriend.

  It’s hidden in a very secretive place. Only Simon and I know where it’s located.

  “Don’t play dumb. You know what list I’m referring to.”

  I uncross my arms before walking over to the wall and leaning back against it. “How do you know the feds haven’t got it?”

  “You seem like a smart man. I’m sure you have it put up in a safe place. Not only to protect your clients, but to protect yourself. You had some pretty big deals coming in and out of that basement. You wouldn’t want their information getting into the feds’ hands. That wouldn’t be wise.”

  My eyes go down to the cement floor. “So, let me get this straight. You want to buy Red and my client list? And then you’re going to pay the judge to let me go?”

  “Yes.”

  “That’s a shitload of money you’ll be spending.”

  “Money isn’t an issue.”

  I rub the side of my face with an exhale. I don’t want to sell Red. That’s my home. I built that place from the ground. But damn, do I want to get out of here.

  If what he’s saying is true about the DA wanting to make an example of me, then I’ll be here for a while. Actually, I’ll be sent off to prison instead of this jail.

  What will K do?

  I have a chance to make this all go away and really start a life with her.

  “You know my brother is the mayor back in Eaglewood,” Bones says, interrupting my thoughts.

  “My connections run deep, Bryce. You also know the people I work for. They can make things happen with the snap of a finger. You don’t have that power.” Bones hits the table with his hand before standing up. He takes a drag from his cigarillo.

  “Think on it,” he says. “When you’ve made up your mind, call me. I’ve spoken to your lawyer. He knows how to get in touch with me.”

  He’s spoken to my lawyer.

  Jesus.

  He walks closer, gray smoke drifting from his mouth. “You want to do this,” he says. “I know you care about that girl.”

  My lungs freeze up when he mentions K. Would he do something to hurt
her if I don’t agree to this? And how could I stop him? Like he said, he works for men who can make things happen.

  “Don’t worry. She’s safe. I ain’t in the business of hurting women. I just know you don’t want to be sent off. You don’t want to put that on her. If the girl loves you, she’ll stay faithful, but what kind of life is that for her?”

  He clasps his hand over my shoulder and gives it a small squeeze before placing the brown wrapper between his lips. Looking at me sideways, he says, “I like you, Bryce. I don’t like many people. This will benefit us both.” And without another word, he exits the room. I scrub down my face and look up at the ceiling.

  Fuck.

  Chapter Four

  Kathrine

  I watch as the sky ignites with fire. I’m curled up on the lounge chair with a bottle of bourbon to comfort me. My mind drifts, twisting through thoughts of Bryce and what happened Friday night. How everything went to shit and there was nothing any of us could do about it. My phone vibrates and I look down at the lit up screen.

  Happy Fourth. We love you.

  Along with the text is a photo of my two best friends, smiling happily, cheek to cheek. I stare at it a little too long, happy, jealous, sad, confused. Claire glows from her pregnancy, and Austin looks more content with his life than I’ve ever seen.

  I put my phone down after I reply with an I love y’all, too. They wanted me to come over and watch the fireworks, but I feel like being alone.

  I bring the bottle to my lips. Well, not completely alone. I have this. I grip the thick glass in my hand when another notification pops up on my phone.

  I pick it up and feel the tiniest smirk spread from the video.

  It’s Mills.

  My dad.

  He’s got a sparkler and a few people around him.

  “Happy Fourth, Kathrine. Hope you’re having a good one,” he says with a smile. “Love ya, kid.”

  Over the months we’ve grown closer, and Mills has told me he loves me a few times. He said blood or no blood, he’s always thought of me as his daughter even way back during my diner days.

  He’s damn happy I’m his, and he tells everyone he meets. I’ve heard him several times say, I’m on the phone with my kid.

  It does crazy things to my heart. She grins and squeezes her shoulders together as she clasps her hands under her chin.

  She’s proud he’s our dad.

  “Everyone, tell my kid Happy Fourth of July!” Mills yells to the background of people.

  “Happy Fourth, Mills’ kid!” they all yell.

  He gives me a wink and the video ends. I hit reply.

  Happy Fourth. Love ya. I take a photo just as a firework bursts in the sky and send it to him before putting my phone down.

  All of my friends and family are enjoying their holiday, while the one person I want to be with is locked up, leaving me to drown in my heartache.

  I lift my bottle

  “Happy Fourth,” I say quietly just as the big bang ending begins. I lean my head back and watch, expressionless as the whole sky lights up.

  It’s beautifully sad.

  ____________

  Rolling over, my head throbs in agony and the sound of a bottle hits the thick pavement below me. The sun warms my back and my mouth feels like rawhide. I squeeze my eyes tightly before opening them. I passed out here in this lounge chair and I couldn’t feel worse.

  Thump, thump, thump. I hear the fast beating of my heart, telling us to get up.

  Let’s go see Bryce.

  I push off the chair, sitting up, putting my face in my hands as I scrub down. I exhale and look out at the city buildings.

  It’s Monday.

  The world’s up and enjoying their day off. I’m hungover and missing my guy.

  I know, I’m pathetic.

  Jesus, girl, get a grip, my mind says, but my heart sticks out its tongue and flicks its middle finger up.

  We can be pathetic if we want to.

  I roll my eyes and hop off the chair. Stretching, I head inside to take a shower and try to get my shit together.

  __________

  A Goody’s powder and Gatorade help me feel less dead and the shower cooled my skin. I didn’t bother with makeup or fixing my hair, though. I threw it up and put on some moisturizer, so my skin didn’t look like the desert. With shorts on and a black tank top, I slip on my white Converse and exit the apartment. I’ll head by Mugs & Books first and see how things are going. I missed morning visiting hours, so I’ll have to wait until four to see Bryce.

  ___________

  Dust eddies swim through the evening sunlight as I stare unconsciously from the chair I occupy at Mugs & Books. I have a book in my hand that I’m not really reading and a cup of coffee is resting on the table in front of me. Steam bellows up from the mug and my mind daydreams.

  “Kat?”

  I startle, turning my head to see Claire.

  She gives me that look. The one that says she’s worried.

  “I’m fine,” I lie. “What did you say?”

  “You’re not fine. Let’s close the shop tomorrow. Go out to my parents’ house and jump some hills on the four-wheelers like old times.”

  I give her a smile and look down at her swollen belly. “You’re pregnant.”

  She sighs. “You’ve got to do something here. You can’t keep this shit up.”

  I look around at our customers. “This isn’t the place,” I say, my eyes bouncing back to my friend who’s got a white apron on with tiny coffee mugs all over it. She’s cute, but I don’t feel like hearing her shit.

  “Well, you tell me when I can talk to you about it then, because you won’t come over. You’ve stayed locked up in that tower of his all weekend and kept everyone who cares about you out.”

  “I come here every day,” I say, deadpan.

  “Yeah, and you do this.” She points to my coffee and book. “That’s not the real world, Kat.” She waves her hand around the shop. “This is. And you’re missing it, moping around, worrying about things you can’t control.”

  I narrow my eyes at her. “I’m done talking about this. You don’t get to tell me how to feel.”

  I stand up, leaving my book and coffee and walk away from her. Moving around the counter, I walk past Becca, my friend and other employee, who’s also giving me a look I don’t like. I go through the hall to my office. Grabbing my purse from my drawer, I remove my car keys and head back out.

  “I’m going to visit Bryce. Close up for me, would you?”

  “Of course, Kat. Let me know if you need anything,” Becca says.

  “Thanks,” I reply before heading toward the exit, feeling my best friend’s eyes on me when I walk through the open French doors.

  ____________

  I sit in the cold, all blue room waiting for Bryce to come in. I flick a piece of lint off my shorts before resting my hands on the metal table. I feel like shit. I’m being a bitch to my best girl and losing my mind. All of this is too much. I rest my elbows on the table and rub my forehead.

  “Hey.” I hear and turn around to see Bryce. He’s shocking to look at in an orange jumpsuit. His skin is pale, making the blue in his eyes stand out more. His hair is thicker on top, looking unruly, and I know it’s because he’s run his hands through it.

  I want to run my hands through it.

  We can’t touch, and that’s the hardest part of all of this. A guard stands by the door with his arms crossed, watching everyone.

  Bryce sits down in front of me, studying me as he does.

  “You okay?” he asks, his voice low and raspy.

  I shrug. “Yeah.” My eyes roam over him. “You?”

  “I’m all right.” He rubs the back of his neck, a sign that he’s uneasy. His eyes look down at the floor and a wrinkle forms between his brow. I narrow my eyes.

  “What is it?” I ask. Something’s happened, I can feel it. “Tell me,” I demand.

  His eyes jump back to me. He rests his hands on the table and clasps
them together. I look down at them.

  “How was your Fourth?” he asks.

  “Don’t change the subject.”

  He exhales, looking around for a moment before he leans in. “Bones came by to visit last night.”

  “Bones?” I ask.

  “Yeah.” He clears his throat.

  What the hell is that guy doing visiting Bryce?

  “And?”

  “He offered me a deal.”

  “A deal? I don’t understand.” Who is Bones to offer Bryce a deal? What kind of deal?

  “He wants to buy Red and my contacts from the basement.”

  I narrow my eyes. “What does that have to do with anything?”

  “If I sell it to him, he will pay the judge off and get me out of this.”

  “What?” I ask. My heart looks up with a small ping of hope. But what if he’s lying? What if Bryce agrees and Bones does nothing?

  “What are you going to do?”

  He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

  “Are you thinking about it?”

  “I don’t want to sell Red.”

  “But it could get you out. Do you think Bones is telling the truth?”

  “How am I supposed to know that?” he asks.

  “Well, you know him better than me, so I thought you might.”

  He exhales, running his hand through his hair. “I’ve worked my ass off to build Red up. I turned it into what it is today.”

  I shake my head. “It’s closed down. It’s nothing today.”

  His eyes narrow.

  “Who gives a shit about a club? You have a life outside of that. If getting rid of it can get you out of here, then I think the answer is pretty damn simple.”

  He sniffs and looks down. “How’s everything going at home?”

  “What?” I say, baffled. We’re having an important conversation and he asks me how things are going at home?

  Can’t he see me?

  Can’t he see this is killing me?

  This man could be doing some serious hard time and what am I going to do? Sit in his apartment every day alone and slowly die?

  “How do you think everything is going? Can’t you see the way I look?”