Page 193 of Five Brothers
I smile. “Very true.”
Ames’s eyes turn hard on her, then he steps up to me. “I’m only interested in what I can own. I don’t need a landlord,” he bites out. “You have something I need. I have something you need. Think about it. You have a week. And then I stop acting like you’re of any consequence in all of this.”
For the first time in a long time, my arms feel strong. Fire and heat course under my skin, and I hope he tries.
He takes the last step up to me, lowering his voice. “And I know Dallas liked to fuck my son,” he tells me.
Krisjen jerks her gaze to me. “Callum?” she murmurs.
Yep. Callum Ames. Her classmate in high school and an arrogant, predatory piece of shit.
I don’t answer out loud, though. It’s not my place to air Dallas’s business. I’m just glad it lasted only a month, and that Garrett Ames doesn’t want anyone to know about it any more than I do.
Callum, his all-American, frat boy dickhead of a son wanted everyone to think he screwed girls, but it was my brother he really wanted.
But he was also only seventeen when he hooked up with Dallas. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to get Dallas out of that if Callum’s father decided to pursue action.
Thankfully, Callum is off at college, and hopefully, he never comes back. If he does, it won’t be good. He wasn’t happy when my brother ended it.
“If they ever touch each other again,” Ames warns, “the Bay will be visited by people who get paid in cash and know how to make even bones disappear. And then it’ll be visited by bulldozers next. You know what’s better than two hundred acres? Two thousand.”
He backs away, telling me again, “You have a week.”
He turns and heads for the stairs, Jerome slowly following. “You can’t survive,” he tells us. “Everyone knows it but you.”
He spins around, both of them climbing the stairs to the restaurant.
Still holding Krisjen’s hand, I walk hard, back to the bike.
I want him to choke on every grain of sand in the Bay.
And I want it now. I can’t battle this guy for ten more years.
We’ve held on to the land, but nothing is getting better, and it has to or otherwise I have no idea what it was all for.
I need to change something.
“A solar field?” Krisjen says.
“Yeah, it’s bullshit.”
Men like him own oil rigs, not clean energy. He wants it for something else.
We reach the bike, and I hand her the helmet.
“You could get permits in a heartbeat.” She holds the helmet with one hand, twisting up her hair to fit inside. “You have everyone in power wired.”
How does she know that? Did someone tell her about the cameras?
Nevertheless … “But they don’t all know that,” I point out. “When they do …”
“They’re going to be more aggressive.”
“Exactly. They won’t wait around for me to strike.”
Concern hits her eyes. “They would kill you?”
I don’t answer, just climb on the bike.