Page 81 of Property of Tacoma

Whoever stole from us will die.

Slowly.

“How much are we talking here?”

“A hundred G’s.”

“Have Cyber get into it. I want our money found now,” I tell him, already mentally adding this to the growing list of shit we’re dealing with.

First the mayor’s murder at Kitties, then Bane’s beat-down, now this.

Someone’s making moves against us, and we need to figure out who the fuck it is before things get worse.

Bane nods, then his expression shifts. “Heard Foxy left to do a job.”

I tense at the mention of her name. “Yeah.”

“When’s she coming back?”

My jaw clenches. “Never.”

Bane’s brows snap together. “What do you mean, never?”

I shift uncomfortably in my chair, guilt gnawing at my insides. “She was leaving, and I said some shit.”

Shit that I wish I could take back with every fiber of my being.

“No...” Bane groans, dragging a hand down his face. “Tell me you didn’t. What the fuck, Jude?”

I cover my face with my hands, my stomach turning. “I don’t fucking know, okay?”

I royally fucked up. I knew the second the door closed behind her when she walked out of my house and out of my life.

I should have called her and told her the truth.

That I didn’t mean a single fucking word I’d said, that I’m an asshole, that I love her, and that I’m sorry.

But I didn’t do any of that because I couldn’t get past my stupid pride.

“You stupid fuck.” Bane rolls his eyes. “That’s a copout, and you know it. You got scared and acted like a fucking pussy. She ain’t Jennifer. Anyone with eyes could see that girl had it bad for you. And your kids.”

“She was leaving,” I deflect, knowing how pathetic I sound.

Bane throws his hands up in the air, his head shaking back and forth. “Yeah. So? Did she say she was never coming back?”

I turn away from my brother’s accusing stare, unable to meet his eyes.

“No.” She said the opposite, in fact.

She promised Saylor she’d be back. She pinky swore. And my baby girl believed her because, despite everything, Cali was nothing but honest with my kids. She didn’t make promises she didn’t intend to keep.

Not like their mother.

Not like me.

“You’re a dumbass,” Bane says, his voice quieter now but no less cutting. “That woman was good for you. Good for those kids. And you threw it all away because you’re too fucking scared to be happy.”

“You don’t understand—” I start, but he cuts me off.