Behind Your Back - Cameron Chelsea M. (читать книги полностью без сокращений бесплатно .txt) 📗

“So you all just made this decision without me?” I’m getting angry now. “What other decisions have you made without me?” I glare at them. My brothers. All of us bonded together by pain and blood and sacrifice and vengeance.

“Someone had to,” Cash says, putting his hand on my shoulder. “Look, we know you’ve got something going on with Saige. It’s written all over your face. Your voice changes when you talk to her, or about her, and I’ve seen you with her. You’re getting involved and it’s dangerous. You’re putting everything at risk. This isn’t just about you. This is about all of us and the work we’re trying to do.” I hear his words and I know he’s right. They’ve definitely talked about this more than once.

“I need a drink,” I say, and I’m not talking about beer.

Cash nods and goes to the bar to get something a little stronger. He emerges with two bottles of Jack and starts handing out the shot glasses.

He pours out the dark liquid and then we all toss them back. There’s a round of silence after we drink.

“I’m sorry,” I say as I hand my shot glass over for another. Cash fills it and everyone else joins suit. “I’m sorry that I’ve got my head up my ass. If one of you were doing this, I’d be pissed.” If I was in their shoes, I would have done the same thing. Shit.

“Just give me three weeks. Three weeks to get it done and then we can leave. Is California where everyone wants to go?” All the heads around me nod in unison. I down shot number two and swallow.

“California it is.”

“Three weeks,” Cash says.

“Three weeks,” I agree.

Time is ticking down. Days, weeks, hours, minutes, seconds. There is a gun pointed at my head and if I don’t get done what I need to get done, it’s going to go off and I have no idea what the damage will be.

I get wasted with the guys so Cash has to take me home.

“It’s okay,” he says as he helps me up the stairs and unlocks the door to my place.

Everything is hazy and fuzzy and all I want to do is close my eyes and shut everything out.

“It’s going to be okay, Sylas,” Cash’s voice says as he gets my boots off. I mumble something at him and then I’m down for the count.

When my eyes open again, I groan and slam my eyelids shut. My head is screaming in pain and my mouth tastes foul. I roll, very slowly, over and open my eyes just a little bit. There’s a glass of water on my nightstand along with a few aspirin. Cash must have left them. I take the pills and swallow the water, which is cool on my throat.

I need to go to the bathroom, but it takes me more than a few tries to get there. I do my thing and come back to the bedroom to find Leo sitting in the middle of my bed, glaring at me. As if I’ve done something to disturb him.

“Sorry,” I say as I grip my head and fall back into bed. There is absolutely no way I’m making it into work today. Shit, shit, fuck. I never miss work.

Last night was a bad idea, but it’s too late to take it back now. Something buzzes and I realize my phone is going nuts right next to the empty glass of water.

It’s a text from Cash asking if I’m alive. I type one back and send it. It’s still early, so I have time to get myself together before I call in to Grace. I’d rather not have her know the reason I can’t come in is because I’m hung over. I have the feeling that little bit of gossip would make it around the office pretty damn fast. I ignore my coworkers for the most part, but I do have to interact with them every now and then at meetings.

The next few hours are spent trying to get my head screwed back on straight. I get up and make a fried bacon and egg sandwich and feed Leo. My apartment is an absolute mess, but I definitely don’t have enough energy to clean it. I crash on the couch and turn on the television to something mindless.

I finally call Grace and let her know that I have the flu. I can tell she doesn’t believe me, but she asks if there’s anything she can do. I tell her no and that I’ll be in tomorrow, if I can. With that taken care of, I get to my feet and decide to have a workout to sweat out the rest of the alcohol. It’s a miserable way to get rid of a hangover, but it works.

After my workout I shower and start pacing around, thinking about Saige. I need to get her to ask me over to her parents’ house again.

I chew on my lip and finally just send her a hello text. She writes back right away, since she’s not currently in class. I’m guessing she’s at the coffee shop and a quick check on the tracer I have in her phone shows me that she is.

Aren’t you supposed to be at work?

I answer back that I’m playing hooky.

Oooh, that sounds like fun. Mind if I join you?

Well. I can’t think of anything I’d want to do more.

Three weeks.

Not at all. Did you have anything in mind?

Her answer is an address. I smile to myself and go to into something Quinn would wear, but I put my boots on my feet. She’s seen me in them once, so wearing them again isn’t going to matter.

I head out of my apartment in my hoodie and walk to the parking garage to get one of the cars. Baz is my escort today and I can feel him behind me.

I keep my eyes open everywhere, looking around every corner. I’m always cautious, but I’ve taken this to a whole new level. The boys are right. I need to be more careful and I need to make sure I don’t take risks. This thing with Saige can’t be denied, but as long as I have a handle on it for the next three weeks, things will be fine. We’ll head out to California and I’ll be off the hook for the next job. We change our appearances as much as we can to throw off suspicion when we move. I’ll grow my hair out and dye it and get another job. I should probably grow a beard as well.

I hop in the BMW, but notice something on the windshield. It looks just like an advertising flyer, one you’d get if you parked on the street. But I know that’s not what this is. I grab the white piece of paper and find what looks like a photocopy of me and Cash from last night as he helped me home. Fuck.

I crumple it up in anger and then curse. I pull out the burner and call Baz.

“What’s up?” he says, instantly on the alert.

“We’ve got problems.” He swears.

“What kind of problems.”

“I’ve got a flyer on my windshield with a picture of Cash hauling me home last night. Whoever it is, is following us and doing a damn good job.”

He lets loose a string of curses.

“We’re just going to have to roll with this. Just three more weeks.” He curses again.

“I swear to God, if this goes south, I’m going to beat the shit out of you.” If this went south, I might not be around for him to beat.

“If this goes south, then you’re probably going to have to take turns with everyone else. Might as well draw straws now,” I say, getting in the car and throwing the flyer in the glove box.

This has become more than a job for me. This is something else. It’s a mission. I won’t be the same after this is over. Things are changing and I don’t know what my life is going to look like on the other side.

“Mother fucker, Sylas. You are playing with fire and we’re all going to get burned. I’m not going back inside.” Baz has hinted about being in prison before. I know Row has also flirted with the law, but we have a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy about it. As long as it doesn’t interfere with their work now, it doesn’t matter.

“I’m going to get us out of this,” I say, turning on the car and pulling out of the garage.

“You’d better. Call me if you need anything else.” The offer is made grudgingly.

“Will do.” I hang up and want to smash my face on the steering wheel, but I have to go see Saige.

Three weeks.