Page 109 of Control Freak

For the next few minutes, everyone concentrated on assembling fajitas. The brothers ate cheap, but the fact that they managed to cook and eat together as a family most nights was more than my own had ever accomplished. Mom used to spend hours in the kitchen, guzzling wine while she roasted a chicken or made a brisket, and then Dad wouldn’t even show up for dinner.

I’d take fajitas—or even garbage plates—over that any day.

Judging by the way Dalton was shoveling down the food, I didn’t think he much cared either. Emory was the refined one among us. He took dainty little bites and dabbed his face with a napkin. So funny to think of him as a tattoo artist, of all things. The artist part was easy to see, but the rest, not so much.

Still, I couldn’t imagine him ever complaining about the food or the company in this house. He was blissfully in love with Gray, and it was easy to see how happy he was.

I glanced over at Holden to see him gazing at me, eyes full of regret. I laid my hand on the table between us, an open invitation for whenever he was ready.

He exhaled softly and brushed his fingers over mine. With one small touch, the world righted itself again.

When he relaxed a fraction at the touch, my heart swelled. He was still comfortable with me. No irreversible damage had beendone. I hadn’t even realized how afraid I was that we might have lost that trust and comfort until this very moment.

I looked down at my plate, blinking hard.

“Shy?” he said hesitantly. “You okay?”

I nodded. “Yeah.”

Dalton cleared his throat at the other end of the table. “I, uh, actually have some news for you, Shiloh.”

I glanced over at him. “Oh?”

“About Jimmie.”

“Oh.” I shook my head, ready to tell him that I’d gotten a message already, but he went on. “He’s okay. In fact, he’s more than okay.”

“Yeah, I—” I paused. “What do you mean, more than okay?”

“Turns out, he’s running a little racket there in prison. Has half the inmates owing him favors in exchange for cigarettes and drugs. If anyone tried to hurt him, he’d have half a dozen men or more watching his back.”

My chest tightened, and I looked over at Holden. He looked furious all over again.

“See?” I said, voice shaky. “He’s a snake. Always will be. I’m much better off here with you.”

Holden’s fist balled into a fist on the table. “That piece of shit. A shanking would be too good for him.”

“Am I missing something?” Axel asked. “I mean, obviously, he’s a criminal doing what criminals do, but…”

“Yeah, you two look surprised.”

“No, I’m not surprised,” I said. “Not anymore. Jimmie messaged me and tried to get me to pay off those guys. He, uh, implied he was in danger.” I shrugged. “But he’s always been a good liar.”

“I’m so sorry,” Emory said.

I shook my head. “It’s okay. There’s a reason I broke up with him.” I shrugged. “I’m just glad I don’t have to worry about him.”

“He’s not worth it,” Gray said.

“Right, he’s not.” I gazed at Holden. “I’d much rather save my energy for someone who’s worth it.”

“Wish I could kick his ass,” Holden grumbled.

“You can’t even touch people,” Bailey said.

“Doesn’t mean I don’t wish I could.” His eyes met mine. “But I’m going to respect my limits and hate him from afar.”

I sighed. “He’s not worth it.”