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“Stop the car.”
The man ignores me.
“I’m going to be sick.”
This time, he inspects me in the rearview mirror just as I slap a hand over my mouth.
The tires screech. He pulls the car sharply to the right, and we bump for several feet until we come to a complete stop.
He’s out of the car and in the back to open my door.
Just in time, too, because everything comes out in a big gush of liquids.
Chapter 6
Phoenix
“She just fell asleep?” I take in Evangeline’s comatose form on the bed.
Holden nods. “Yeah. They were drinking when I got there. Not that I blame her. I’d get hammered too in her situation.”
I ignore his comment.
Much like earlier, her first sign of life is a groan.
This one isn’t a soft one, though, like this morning, but rather one of someone who’s on the brink of dying. Or, at the very least, feels like it.
“Imma adhdilsgfergbwlkiefsfbdhgwek.”
Holden and I stare at each other at the gibberish that just came out of her mouth. He only raises his brows.
I sigh, something it seems I’ll be doing a lot around this woman. I have no patience for her and her antics.
Don’t want them.
Don’t need them.
Won’ttolerate them.
She’s quiet after that, and soft snores fill the room instead.
Shifting my gaze away from her, I focus on my friend. “Did you really have to break down her door? I thought we said we’re keeping a low profile?”
Holden just smiles—his way of dealing with pretty much anything. “I got a little carried away. I already have some guys working on it.”
I nod. “Good.”
One thing I like about Holden is I don’t need to babysit him. He knows his role and can deal with shit by himself without having to be told. We didn’t have much contact in the last few months between his release and mine, and I quickly realized it wasn’t necessary. He had everything ready for my arrival, had assembled a crew he instinctively trusted, and started delving into our new business venture.
We both know the police will most likely scrutinize every move I make, happy to bust me again at the slightest infraction, so all illegal activity is on pause until we can be sure they’re off my case. And what better way to show you’re an invaluable part of society than giving away some of your money for a good cause? Or several good causes as we grow our charitable foundation legally, with the possibility of using it to wash money down the road. That’s at least what I told my dad to keep him from constantly looking over my shoulder.
And while putting money in other people’s pockets instead of our own isn’t how he raised me, I’m excited for this opportunity. I’ve met a lot of guys in prison who didn’t grow up as fortunate as I did but were better people than most in our rich circle, which says more about them than us.
Holden hasn’t told me everything about his past and demons, but I know enough about him to understand he didn’t have the best upbringing. He was actually the one who suggested starting a charity for teenagers, and I can’t fault him for wanting to offer others a better chance at life. So the Foxhole Foundation was born: a charity to support teenagers who need a helping hand in life.
Holden’s phone chimes, and he reads something on his screen. “Thomas wants to know if his team is supposed to handle Evangeline’s clothes as well.”
I think about it for a moment. Without a doubt, Evangeline has an impeccable wardrobe, but I know she’ll hate everything she gets from me, even if my personal shopper picks it. “Tell Thomas to buy everything Evangeline could possibly need and to have her formal wardrobe for the upcoming events complement my own.”