I frowned, “Start a war on the fucking Chrobak’s?” I laughed. “I appreciate that, but it’s not happening. I’ll do my time, serve like the Murdoch’s before me did.”
He was quiet again, rolling up a fifty. I watched, distracted when he snorted up three lines. “How’s Carter doing, man? Any idea who killed her?”
I shook my head. “No fucking clue. I’ll put a grand on them cunts being involved, though.”
“The Chro’s?” Luca asked lines marred his forehead.
A brief glimpse of worry crossed over my friend’s face, he’d thought he’d been quick enough wiping it off, but I saw, and I didn’t fucking like it. “What? What’s that face for, man?”
He rolled the powdery fifty between his fingers, weighing up whether he should open up or not. “I dunno, Jax. My Ma always told me not to speak ill of the dead, you know?”
I rolled my eyes. “Spit it out, Luca.”
“Okay. But two things, yeah? Don’t shoot the messenger, and don’t take this as gospel, alright?”
Annoyed, I growled, “Yes. Whatever.”
He took a long slug of his drink, leaning forward to make sure no-one was eavesdropping. “I heard from a guy who done deliveries and all that shit, that Amy was pissed at Carter, more often than not. She was sick of him leaving her all the time, you know?”
My face screwed up. “What the fuck? Amy had never even been to Vladimir’s fucking place. So, how the hell did anyone hear that?” It was true. Women of the Murdoch’s were kept as far away as possible from even the slightest bit of fucking danger. We did what we could to look after the women. And Amy had most definitely not been there. No fucking way.
He shrugged his shoulders. “Just telling you what I’d heard, man. This delivery guy had seen her on the arm of some big prick up at The Mansion, looking quite cozy and shit.”
“What fucking delivery guy?”
Luca thought for a moment, the wicked cocaine now flowing through his veins. “Hank? Or some shit like that. Anyways, like I said, just a rumor, man. But it may help. Maybe she wasn’t as happy as everyone thought.”
I scoffed, pushing back from my chair as I tried to wrap my tired brain around all this shit. “Luca, man, I appreciate you telling me, but no. Fucking. Way. They fought like every other goddamn couple on the planet, but there’s no way in hell she’d have done that to Carter. They were in it for the long run, man. Tell your guy to keep shit like that to himself, before someone else ends up killed.”
Zipping up my jacket, Luca stood to shake my hand, nodding that he understood.
“You’re gonna be missed here, man.”
I gripped his forearm and returned the nod. “Look after my Mindy for me, alright?”
I left Vixen’s, the place that had been the crutch for me for so many years. I walked through its doors, and it was seconds before I missed it all.
My alarm was the first thing I heard Monday morning. Its wails brought me back to the land of the living, my head hazy with alcohol, and for a moment, I’d forgotten what lie ahead. The skies outside were uncharacteristically bleak, and that’s what prompted my memory.
Groaning out loud, I sunk back under the confines of my bedsheets.
The last time I’d seen my dad was Saturday afternoon. My mother and sister were still in Arizona, some fashion week thing, and I’d received a distressed call from my mom.
“I’m going to kill your father!” She’d screeched down the phone. “No, I’ll divorce him, and then I’ll kill him!”
“Mom, stop screaming for a damn minute and listen to me. I have to go, you know this, right? I’d never forgive myself if Carter wasn’t allowed to bury Amy.” I placated, but it fell on deaf ears.
Mom wanted pops’ blood. “Sending my only boy to his death!” She had cried before my sister took the phone from her.
“Jax, you there?” Kendra’s voice warmed me to the fucking bone.
Rubbing my temples to try and soother the pounding my mother had caused, I replied, “Hey Kend, calm her the fuck down, will you?”
Kendra laughed, “You know what she’s like.”
Yeah, batshit crazy, I thought.
“I can’t believe you’re going. Why aren’t you putting up a fight, Jax? There must be something we can do?”
Sighing, I suddenly wondered if ending the Chrobak’s once and for all wasn’t such a bad idea. “It’s not that easy, sis.”
She held back a sob. “I’m gonna miss you, big bro. You keep in touch, don’t just disappear.”
“Of course,” I smiled, “Besides, you still owe me a beer. I’m gonna hold you to that.”
“Love you, Jax.”
We hung up the phone, and my dad blew out a breath, his suit jacket crumpled from spending hours pacing back and forth, sitting then standing, like a man with a gun up his ass.
The old man was struggling to come to terms with my leaving, and it was up to me to keep him sane. Well, as rational as I could, given the circumstances.
We drunk beer and discussed our options, there were none, and then his train of thought became nostalgic, speaking for hours about yesteryear and reminding me of silly childhood moments.
All too soon, though, my father had to leave, and after we’d said an emotional goodbye, I made my way to Vixen’s.
Carter was sleeping most of the days, only emerging to grab more alcohol, and the weekend had passed by in a blur of packing my shit and spending a couple of hours watching that sugar-sweet blonde shake her ass.
And now, the day was here. Its ugly head was leering at me, and its sharp claws were keeping me from falling back to sleep.
I threw the sheets back and eyed the small bag sat in the corner of my room. It contained everything I was allowed to take with me—one fucking bag. My guitar rested on the wall beside it.
My phone vibrated on the bedside table, and I read the message with one eye open.
I will miss you, baby. Don’t let that Slovak pig grind you down. Until next time, Jaxon Murdoch.
I threw my phone to the end of the bed and forced my legs to swing over the edge.
I stood, grabbing my clean clothes from my wardrobe before heading to the bathroom. I didn’t have long until I needed to leave.
As I pushed open the bathroom door, there was a knock from behind me. Turning, I saw my friend up, dressed and showered for the first time since last Friday.
He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning against the door frame.
“Hey, everything okay?” I asked.
Carter nodded and cleared his throat. “When do you leave?”
“Today. This morning. Soon,” I stammered.
“And you can’t refuse?”
Shit, if only he knew why I couldn’t. “Afraid not. I’ll be alright. You concentrate on yourself, buddy. My pops will be picking you up soon.”
Carter closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. When he opened them again, I could see what he wanted to ask of me.
Walking over to him, I gripped his stubble-covered jaw in my hands and held him, blue eyes to black. “I’ll find who done this, Cart, I fucking swear it.” Yanking him to my chest, a place he had spent a lot of time the past few days, I held my best friend, feeling his pounding heart, the sweat already wetting his clean shirt.