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His reply is immediate.Leenie I’m busy.
Me:IDGAF
7
The bus drops me a couple of blocks from the headquarters of the Dragons. The Heights Crew also ran out of the tower but ever since Cole took over, it’s his now.
The high-rise building is absolutely the nicest in all of the Heights—inside and outside. The exterior is modern, a definitive contrast from the shambled buildings only blocks from it. The Crew started to rejuvenate the city, but as time went on, all that kind of went on the backburner, and the only buildings that got facelifts were the ones the Crew started running businesses out of. A lot of people had real hope that an organized crime group would help Rawley Heights grow. That’s the reason Cole got into this life in the first place. He felt like he was doing something good, fighting against the terrible crimes in the city. And the Crew did regulate things in the beginning.
It just didn’t last long.
I walk past my work which just so happens to be in one of the nicer blocks that the Crew renovated and keep going without looking in. I don’t want to get stopped by one of my coworkers or a regular customer for a chat. I’m too worked up for that.
I grab hold of the glass door and yank it open. A desk sits off to the side along with a fern plant sprouting up behind it. The surroundings are so corporate lobby-like that you’d expect a pretty secretary to be manning the phones. Instead, it’s a guy with a Dragon tattoo licking up his neck, his head buried in his phone. It looks like fresh ink, too, so I can only imagine he’s a former Crew member who knew no other life. So, when the Dragons confiscated the territory, he went along with it.
The tattoo only serves as a reminder of what’s at stake. The rumors about my brother’s gang are wide and far-reaching. If only a blip of them are true, I understand why Jax is so worried.
“Hey,” I call out in greeting. “I’m here to see Cole.”
The kid at the desk doesn’t even look up. He snorts, his face still in his phone. “Good luck.”
I smile, gaze drifting toward the landline that’s sitting just in front of him. “Yeah, I’m going to need you to call him to let him know I’m here.”
His fingers fly furiously over his screen, and when I step up on my tiptoes and lean over, I see he’s playing a stupid game. “No can do.”
I grip the side of the desk, my knuckles turning white. “Listen here, you little fuck.”Yeah, Cole’s not the only one in our family who has a temper.“I’m Cole’s sister, so I need you to get on that phone right next to you and tell him I’m here to see him.”
The peon drags his gaze up to me, and I see him weighing his options. He doesn’t want to interrupt Cole if I’m full of shit, but I can tell there’s a teensy bit of fear there, too. Like, what if I am telling the truth and he disrespects me?
Thankfully—or maybe regretfully—the elevator opens, saving the douche from answering. Cole’s guard steps out. He walks over to the desk and nudges the handset back into place. “Petey, this is Cole’s sister, Colleen.” He smacks him in the shoulder. “Stand up straight, you ingrate.”
Petey not only straightens his back, he jumps out of the chair, forcing Cole’s guard to take a step back and roll his eyes. “I’m so sorry, ma’am.” He shakes his head. “Miss? Mrs?”
The scared shitless look is enough to placate me, and I hold back a smile and follow Cole’s guard toward the elevator. It feels good to be shown some respect around the Heights, I’m not going to lie. Women here are treated like the suffrage movement never happened. It’s fucking laughable, and I suspect I’m about to get more of the same bullshit treatment as soon as I see my brother since he thinks he knows best about everything.
Cole’s normal guard steps into the square box behind me and hits the P button. The elevator starts moving up, the pert dings sounding out each time we pass a floor. I flick my gaze toward my silent companion. “I should probably learn your name since you guarded me all night.”
“It’s Dempsey,” he states, not looking away from the pristine, stainless-steel reflection in front of him. He’s staring above our heads like he’s willfully avoiding looking at me. He looks as if he’s a tad hard worn. He’s buff, and I suspect his muscles are hiding his real age.
I clear my throat stubbornly. “Thank you,” I tell him, even though I feel like I shouldn’t. However, it’s not Dempsey I’m mad at, it’s Cole.
“You’re welcome.”
The final ding sounds, and I step off. I’ve been here before, so I already know where Cole’s suite is. Passing two more guards, I head down the hall and open the first door on the right without knocking. It opens up into a grand room with modern, metal finishes that don’t represent my brother at all. Silver and grays are everywhere, highlighted by white touches. The atmosphere is so futuristic looking that it instantly makes me uncomfortable.
I approach the center of the room and spy movement out of the corner of my eye. Turning, I find Cole in the kitchenette. I’ve been told an even bigger kitchen is through one of the many doors that leads out of this main room, but this one was for when the old leader of the Crew—Big Daddy K—didn’t want his help around.
Cole peers over his shoulder. He’s always dressed in the same white shirt and jeans. On occasion, I’ve seen him wear black shirts, but even if the color changes, they’re always plain. He meets my eyes, and it’s as if I’m seeing my brother again in his soft brown irises. He frowns. “Demps, can you give us a moment?”
His expression almost makes me forget that I’m supposed to be furious with him for ruining my life. I don’t watch Dempsey leave, but I feel his overbearing form leave and then hear the soft click of a door.
It’s so surreal to think of Cole and I here, in this very spot. It’s a far cry from where we grew up in a one-story, ramshackle old house. Our father worked at one of the factories downtown before all the businesses left the area and the Heights started to really go downhill into crime, violence, and drugs.
“It’s okay,” Cole says.
I narrow my eyes. “What’s okay?”
“You apologized to me in a text this morning?” He lifts a brow and then comes around the island with a bowl of cereal in his hand. “You want some?”