CHAPTER TWO
CAPONE
I watch Maverick reach for the bottle of Jack and pour himself another shot—his fourth since we returned to the clubhouse. But, hey, who’s counting?
“You hear from Holly?” Leftie questions. The old geezer parked his ass on the stool to Maverick’s left as soon as we got back and hasn’t stopped blabbering since. Everyone else scattered, leaving him and I as Mav’s handlers. I ain’t gonna lie—this shit ain’t my jam. When things get heavy and personal around here, I run. I’m not the brother that lends an ear, or drinks with you until you have a life changing epiphany, and I certainly don’t offer advice to anyone. I’m the brother you call when you want to go for a joyride. The guy who disobeys every traffic law in the state just to get an adrenaline rush.
Defying death is a favorite pastime of mine.
It’s right up there with fucking and your boy has made an art of charming his way into the panties of all the single broads from here to Wilmington.
Lifting the shot to his lips, Mav downs it with ease. Then he lowers the glass back onto the bar, a tortured expression filling his face as he gruffly answers Leftie’s question.
“Yeah, I’m gonna stay here with the boys tonight.”
I don’t know why the guy looks so fucking miserable. I think he handled that little prick like a fucking champ.
“Good idea,” Leftie returns. “I’ll make breakfast in the morning.”
I attempt to lighten the mood. “Do we get breakfast too or just the kids?”
“Don’t get smart with me, boy,” Leftie warns, narrowing his beady eyes at me.
“I wouldn’t dare,” I mutter.
Even I know better than to fuck with grandpa over here.
So much for lightening the mood, though.
What’s that saying? If you can’t beat them, join them? There ain’t no beating this dead horse, and I’m not going down as the sober mate on this fucking ship. I bring my own glass to my lips, shooting back the shot as Maverick pours himself a refill.
I’m not a whiskey guy. Tequila is more my speed.
Maybe that’s why I shudder as the liquor slides down my throat and a chill runs up my spine. I flip the glass over and slam it on top of the bar, turning my attention back to Maverick.
“What’s the plan here? Are we drinking until we pass out or just long enough for Leftie to become pleasant? I’m down for either, but if the goal is to get blackout drunk, I’m gonna need tequila. Preferably Patron.” I pause for a beat before adding, “And a bag of limes.”
There is a saltshaker in the kitchen, no need to add that to the list.
“We’re drinking until I figure out how the fuck I’m ever going to look my daughter in the eye again.”
I stare at him for a beat. I don’t know what the fuck that means, but I’m a fake it until you make it kind guy, so instead of asking any more questions, I simply nod.
Doordash it is.
Reaching into my kutte, I grab my phone and immediately open up the delivery app. I add the largest bottle of Patron to my cart and am about to add some limes when Maverick snatches the phone out of my hand.
“What are you doing?”
“Let’s be real, Mav. I’m dumber than dirt and he’s…” I point my finger at Leftie. “…well, he’s older than it.”
“Watch it, boy,” Leftie growls.
Ignoring him, I continue, “Even if we blow through every bottle behind the bar, that shit tequila included, I don’t think we’re equipped to deal with whatever this is.” I wave a hand around his miserable face. “I need the good stuff.”
If I’m being honest, I don’t even think Patron can help. I have no idea how to deal with Maverick when he’s like this, and Leftie promising bacon and eggs doesn’t seem to be helping the cause. Where the fuck is everyone?
Then it dawns on me. Hawk, Ink, Wiz, and Torque all took off but Ghost and Shady never returned from dropping Tara and Holly off at the house. If anyone is equipped to deal with Maverick in this state, it’s his vice president and his brother.
I clear my throat, plucking my phone from Mav’s hands.
Doordash can wait. I close the app and bring up my contact list before glancing back at Maverick. If looks could kill, my remains would be on a smoker at Sally’s. Clearing my throat, I stand my ground.
“I’d feel better if we called a professional. Ghost or Shady, your pick.”
“I can handle my own shit, Capone. I don’t need?—”
His words are cut off by the sound of the front door opening. My gaze darts over his head, and my eyes widen as Ghost and Shady stroll into the clubhouse.
It’s like a divine intervention. The big guy upstairs heard my call for help and answered.
Leftie’s eyes swing back to me.
“How the hell did you do that?” he slurs.
“Beats the fuck out of me,” I mutter.
Just last week I asked God for a leggy blonde with double d’s and got nothing. I guess my ma was right… He does work in mysterious ways.
“Seeing as no one called me to dig a hole, I’m gonna guess you didn’t kill the little bastard,” Ghost says as he and Shady make their way toward us. He slides behind the bar, grabbing two beers, and passing one to Shady before taking a seat next to Leftie.
Maverick turns around in his stool, his hands firmly wrapped around his glass as he stares at the amber liquid inside of it.
“The kid is alive and well, save for the four flats Capone gave him before we left,” he grunts.
Ghost raises an eyebrow, surprise flickering in his blue eyes as they find mine from over Maverick’s slouched shoulders.
I was hoping that wouldn’t come up. Lord knows, I’ve spent the better part of the last hour trying not to dwell on it myself. There was no good explanation for why I slashed that little cunt’s tires. One minute I was in awe of how Maverick handled the situation, the next I was taking matters into my own hands like I had skin in the game. Like it was my fucking right.
Shady claps me on the shoulder. At first I take it as his silent version of an atta boy , but his grip tightens and when I look at him his jaw is clenched tight.
Ghost hums, lifting his beer to his lips. “I knew we were keeping you around for a reason.”
“Thanks,” I grunt as I try to shrug my shoulder free from Shady’s grip. “I think.”
Shady finally releases me and sets his long neck on top of the bar. “So, do we know what happened?” His eyes find his brother and I slowly inch away from him.
“According to Holly, Tara found him in the woods with another girl and immediately took off. That’s when she called me. Her phone died and she went back to his car, figuring it was the safest place. Mark caught up with her there and started apologizing.”
I roll my eyes.
“How is she doing now?” Ghost questions.
“Holly says she’s stopped crying.”
My fingers flex around the phone as an image of Tara crying earlier fills my head. Desperate to purge it, I toss my phone back on top of the wood, and make my way around the bar, plucking the bottle of cheap tequila from the shelf.
“Good. That little prick doesn’t deserve her tears,” Ghost says, and I raise the bottle, tipping it toward him in agreement before I chug it.
“No, he sure as hell doesn’t,” Maverick agrees, topping off his glass with more poison. “Just like I didn’t deserve her mother’s. Tara is no fool, she knows all my sins. She knows I played her mother dirty, something she likely overlooked because she didn’t know any better. But tonight… tonight she learned how it feels to be on the receiving end of that filth and I’m terrified she won’t look at me the same—like I’m not the man who hung the moon and the stars. Like I’m not her fucking hero.”
I lower the bottle from my lips, swiping the back of my free hand across my mouth. That’s some deep shit.
“Bro, with all due respect, I think you’re reading too much into this. Tara isn’t comparing you to that the little fucker. Hell, I’ve got a twenty that says they’re back together by Monday.”
Maverick turns abruptly to glare at me.
“Over my dead body,” he growls.
“Man, why would you say that?” Ghost hisses.
Leftie points a wrinkled finger at me as he regards the others. “The boy wasn’t lying when he said he was dumber than dirt.”
I set the bottle of tequila on the bar and cross my arms against my chest.
“I’m just going by what I’ve seen. My sisters have dated their share of losers, and I can tell you for a fact, dickface will most definitely come sniffing around Tara when he pulls his head out of his ass.” I point a finger at Maverick. “You said it yourself tonight. He’ll realize his mistake and once he does, he’ll be on Tara like white on rice. She might make him sweat for a bit, but mark my words, she’ll take him back. It’s just the way it goes. You’re beating yourself up over nothing, man. Give your liver a rest and go home to your wife. Tara will only think less of you if you don’t.”
The room goes silent, and Maverick seems to contemplate my words. Felling slightly victorious, I smile smugly. Looks like I didn’t need to call in a favor to God tonight after all.
“I did say that, and if Mark is anything like me, he’ll think it’s his right,” Maverick grunts, a disgusted expression filling his face.
My brows pinch together as I stare at him. I think he’s missing my point. I open my mouth to elaborate, but the words don’t come fast enough.
“That doesn’t mean she’ll give in,” Ghost says pointedly.
They’re harping on Tara taking Mark back when the bigger issue at hand seems to be that Mav’s worried his previous sins are about to wreak havoc on his relationship with his daughter. I focus my attention on Maverick and try to steer us back to the initial reason he’s sulking.
“Look, all I’m saying is that you shouldn’t worry about facing Tara. In a couple of days, she’ll forget all about this and she’ll still look at you like you’re an astronaut.”
I think that’s the reference he used. There was a line about stars and the moon. Shit from outer space.
Maverick turns to Ghost.
“I told Mark karma was going to get him, that one day he’d realize what he lost, and it’d be his biggest regret.”
“Tara ain’t stupid,” Shady defends.
“No, she’s not, but she is forgiving,” Maverick says. “Just like her mother.”
Oh, for fuck’s sake.
I huff out a breath. These guys are more hardheaded than my pops.
“Right, and if the kid has any game whatsoever, he’ll wear her down,” I return. “It’s nothing against Tara, it’s the whole female species. They all want to fix us, and that makes them eager to give us a second chance. Even when we don’t deserve it.” My gaze darts from one man to another. “Can we stop drinking now? I mean, we’re all in agreement that she’s probably going to get back with him, right? No need to damage our livers anymore. I can call you an Uber.”
Ignoring me, Ghost stares at Maverick.
“It took Holly a long ass time before she forgave you. Tara will move on by then.”
“Holly moved on too,” Mav volleys. “And that didn’t stop me. I kept at her, man, even when I knew she was better off without me. I convinced myself I wasn’t chasing her but at times I even used my kids as an excuse to get a fix. I relented a little after she married Colt and got pregnant with Theo, but that’s only because every time I looked at her it felt like my heart was beating outside of my chest and I couldn’t stand it. But if things didn’t work out the way they did, I’d still be that desperate man fighting dirty for my second chance.”
My shoulders slump in defeat. It’s nights like this when I wish I would’ve gone into the family business. I lift the bottle of tequila to my lips and take a healthy swig.
Fuck it.
“You and Holly are different,” Ghost argues.
“Ghost is right,” Shady adds.
“Holly was a year younger than Tara is now when I first laid eyes on her, and I fucked around until she was eighteen.”
I take another gulp, ignoring the burn in my stomach.
“Yeah, but when she turned eighteen you made her yours and you didn’t stick your dick where it didn’t belong,” Shady argues.
“No, I waited until I put a fucking ring on her finger and two babies inside her before I did that ,” Mav sneers.
The room suddenly goes quiet, and I lower the bottle of tequila from my lips, my gaze trailing from one man to the next. I’m almost afraid to ask what they’re thinking. That’s why I let my mind wander back in time. A sense of déjà vu washes over me, and I recall a similar situation. But instead of keeping the memory to myself, I decide to share it with my brothers. Blame it on the cheap booze.
“You know I remember when my sister Carmella broke up with her high school sweetheart…I think his name was Gino or maybe Tony. Anyway, that doesn’t matter. The son of a bitch cheated on her the night before their prom. Now, there are two things you don’t do to an Italian man.” I lean over the bar and flip up my index finger. “The first is hurt his daughter…” I raise another digit. “…and the second is go after his wallet. Between Carmella’s dress, the limo, and everything else—my pops went for a pretty penny. He started following my sister after that just to make sure she never spoke to him again.”
“What does that have to do with anything?” Leftie questions.
I shrug, focusing on Maverick. “If you’re so worried about Tara getting back with him, follow her around. I mean didn’t you tell him you’d be the roadblock standing in his way?”
Maverick shakes his head.
“As much as I don’t want Mark sniffing around Tara, she would hate me even more if I started following her around.”
“What if you had someone else do it?” Ghost asks before draining his beer.
“Like a prospect?” Leftie asks.
Ghost lowers his beer and shrugs.
“I was thinking more along the lines of this guy,” he says, jutting a thumb toward me.
Instantly my eyes go wide. I’m the last person who should be following her around, especially after I reacted the way that I did. It’s like my subconscious took one look at Tara all grown up and decided she was mine.
“Me? Why me?” I shake my head violently. “No, no, no. Forget I said anything. It’s a horrible idea. Why does anyone listen to me?”
“To be fair, we usually don’t,” Leftie retorts.
“Yeah, well now isn’t a good time to start changing tactics,” I snap, heat creeping up my neck. Ghost can’t be serious. I’m half fucked in the head, and even I can think of five people who are better suited to act as a shield between Tara and Mark than me. People who didn’t lose their shit at the sight of her tonight. There’s no fucking way I’m putting myself in a position to ogle her every fucking day.
“You’re young and the least embarrassing choice,” Ghost continues. “Every girl wishes she had an older brother—you can be Tara’s stand-in.”
I stare at Maverick, my pulse hammering. He’s drunk. There’s no logical part of his brain that will let him go through with this… right?
“You’re not seriously considering having me shadow your daughter, are you?” When he doesn’t respond, I swipe my hand over my face and groan. “Fuck, you’re serious.”
I should remind him that there is a cartel gunning for us, and that my efforts would be best suited elsewhere, but I’d only be wasting my spit. While everyone else has been surveying Valeria’s local stash houses, and identifying all members of her hit squad, I’ve been watching his kid’s pet lizard.
Yeah, you fucking read that right.
Just call me Dr. Doolittle.
“You can’t have Capone tail Tara,” Shady interjects. “Holly will fucking kill you.”
Those words hold weight and after a few agonizing moments, Mav reluctantly agrees that facing the wrath of Holly would be a far worse consequence. I release a breath I didn’t even realize I was holding and reach for the crappy tequila again. This time, I chug it like my life depends on it.
“That’s why we’re not going to tell Holly the truth.”
Tequila splutters from my mouth, and I lower the bottle.
“I’ll tell her things are escalating with the cartel, and adding protection detail to Tara is just a precaution until I decide to put the club on full lockdown. She won’t question that, especially if I keep Leftie with her and the boys for the time being.” He takes another swig of whiskey before continuing, “It’s not a complete lie. Got some intel today on the cartel that I planned on sharing before Tara called. I’ll explain more of that tomorrow when everyone is here, but my focus needs to be on how we’re going to respond to their advances. I can’t be distracted worrying about my daughter.”
Why no one is responding to this lunacy is beyond me. I turn to Shady, expecting him to be the voice of reason, but he remains stoic. The motherfucker is a traitor, drinking the same Kool-Aid as the rest of these fools.
I glance back at Maverick, my jaw clenching slightly. His eyes meet mine, and he raises his empty glass in mock salute.
“Consider it a promotion,” he says. “As of now you’re officially off lizard duty and on Tara duty.”