Page 3 of Forbidden Eyes
Not that Logan knows that. Or is allowed to.
“Give me a fucking break, Carter. Why would he send you just for a new opening? I could do that.”
He could. But badly.
“You ever gonna let me in on this thing you two do? You’re not even blood.” I stop, and slowly turn to look at him. I might not be blood, but I’ve done more shit for this family than he’s ever done. With any luck, more than he’ll ever have to do.
“He’s tying up loose ends, Logan. That’s all.” He opens his mouth to cut in. “And you ever come at me with that blood talk again and I’ll forget you’re not my own. You get me?”
His eighteen-year-old frame backs off a step. He’s right to as well because no matter his size, or his name, I’ll beat the ever-lovin’ crap out of him if he brings that tone at me again. The amount of times I’ve pulled him out of some shit he’s got himself into is unfathomable. Doesn’t mean I like him or have to do anything for him. I do it because I respect his father and what he’s done for me over the years. And I do it because the wordfamilyhas been pushed so far up my ass I have no choice but to honour Quinn’s wishes, even if we’re not blood.
“Besides,” I continue, sipping my water again, “you’ve got Alicia to play with. Enjoy her ass for a while. I’ll be back before you know it.”
“Who?”
“Girlfriend?”
“Fuck that. Bitch wouldn’t put out. I’ve moved on.” I roll my eyes and keep walking, reading a card game over the dealer’s shoulder. “It was Mom’s idea. She said I should settle down and be happy.” I chuckle and sip my drink again. It doesn’t surprise me. Guess Emily sees too much of her husband in her son. Well, what he was before her anyway, from what I know. “The hell do I want with happy, Carter? Damn sure Pops wasn't happy at my age. I’m the only Cane there is. I need to know about everything. Everything.” He's right. His dad was an animal at his age. Something he's trying to temper in his son by keeping him the fuck away from that kind of life.
“You do.” Mostly. “Stop whining like a baby, Logan.”
Again.
“Fuck you, Carter.”
I smile and weave away from him through to the offices, tipping my hand at him. I’m done out here for the night. I’ll go wait up there for Quinn. Perhaps have a real drink for once. I deserve one. Life is good. I’m in control. Everything is seamless, and there’s nothing up Cane ass that I’m not aware of. No problems. No concerns. I’m the man they’ve trained me to be.
And this enterprise runs the way they need it to.
Because of me.
Two
“Fia, promise me you’ll be here? I know your parents hound you, but this party is going to be epic.”
“Relax, Andi. I wouldn’t miss it. We’ve been planning this for the past year. Besides, there’s no reason why I can’t go.”
“Oh, really? I’m pretty sure your folks would have you locked away in a tower if they had a choice.”
Andi’s right. Dad would lock me up in a heartbeat if he could get away with it. “That does sound like him, but I promise, okay? I’ll see you in a few hours.”
I hang up and slump down on my bed. Tonight is important. It’s Andi’s twenty-first birthday party. Every one of the handful of friends I’ve managed to make at school are older than me. Finishing high school two years early and then completing my degree in two years means I’m the baby of the class. At least in years.
My dress has been picked out for weeks. Nothing too revealing, nothing scandalous and more than suitable for a nineteen-year-old to wear. Of course, I’m not a normal nineteen-year-old. How can I be with Benjamin Vico as my father? If only I knew the real reason why that name alone opens doors, turns heads, and sends a sliver of fear into people’s eyes when they hear it.
Torino will drive me into the city, and I’ll stay at Dad’s apartment tonight. Everything has been planned. Dad isn’t at home, and I’ve already spoken to Mom and she’s happy enough for me to go. She would be. She's so much more reasonable than Dad.
With renewed excitement bubbling through my veins, I jump to get ready. I’m not going to be late; I’ve been waiting for tonight as long as Andi has.
* * *
“Mom, I’m ready. What do you think?” I peer into her room and flick my hip to the side, proud of my appearance.
She turns from her desk and gives me the biggest smile. “You look stunning. And very grown up.”
“Mom, I’m nineteen. I am grown up.”
“Well, you might think that, but you’ll always be my baby girl.”