Ramsey Security (Ramsey Security #1-3)(163)

“Never saw the movie,” she says, pretending to look at a map.

“You’re missing out.”

“Old people f*cking doesn’t interest me.”

“It’s a quality movie. One of my mom’s favorites.”

Minka gives me a grin. “You’re such a mama’s boy.”

“Laugh it up. One day, you’ll have our sons wrapped around your finger too.”

Minka wants to say something feisty. I sense her need to mock me, but her mouth remains shut.

“I’m proud of you,” I say.

“Nearly broke a hip but I managed.”

“How long are we going to sit here?”

“Do you want to walk over there and shoot them in front of everyone?”

“Sure.”

“We could do a drive-by.”

“I’m game.”

“We have the deputy’s gun. Seems like a waste not to use it in a murder-suicide scene.”

“You’re too professional. Let’s half-ass things and then leave this redneck paradise.”

“When we get back to Houston, will we live together or hook up a few nights a week?”

“I’m marrying you, Apples. Screw that ‘few nights a week’ shit.”

“I just wanted to make sure you were still ready to make me an honest woman.”

“Are you gonna stop lying and cheating once we’re married?”

“No, but I promise I won’t cheat on you or lie about important stuff.”

“Can I lie too?”

“To me? No. To other people? Sure.”

Before I can complain, I catch sight of the deputies readying to leave.

“Maybe they’ll go somewhere private so we can finish this.”

“I betcha they won’t. You’re not that lucky.”

“I banged you a few hours ago. I’d say that makes me pretty lucky.”

Minka laughs while adjusting her giant grandma sunglasses. I’m dying to make her laugh in the backseat. She’s pretty ticklish, and I know all her tender spots. Unfortunately, we’re on the clock.

The deputies end up at the sheriff’s office.

“Told you,” Minka says, again pretending to be looking at a map.

“How long can you look at that?”

“I have bad eyes. I’ll look at it until I’m done.”

Sighing, I scratch my head and nearly knock off my wig. Minka never looks at me, but I hear her snickering.

“I’m bored.”

“Let’s talk then. Don’t married people do more than f*ck?”

“Yeah, they talk and stare at the TV. I think they might do some other shit too, but mainly it’s those three things.”

“Fine, let’s talk.”

“Do you ever talk to Frankie?”

Immediately tense, I growl, “No.”

“Are you angry with him?”

“He’s a f*cking rat. We can’t be buddies.”

“Did he rat on you or your family?”

“No. He went undercover in a different family. Told my parents he was working in construction. He looked my parents in the eyes and lied. Then he testified against the Tovino family and took down some of their big guys. Did he think about how I might get killed when people found out Frankie was a rat? Or did he worry about our parents? Fuck no. He only cared about his magical idealism bullshit.”

“Do you really not know where he is, or is that a lie to avoid seeing him?”

“He’s in hiding, I assume. People want him dead.”

“Are you one of them?”

“He’s my brother.”

“Just checking.”

Minka falls silent, but I know she’s still thinking about Frankie. She won’t let the topic drop until she’s satisfied. Not after I pushed her on visiting her mom.

“He sends my mom cards and calls her once a week. He won’t say where he is, and he didn’t come home for Dad’s funeral. I know he probably couldn’t, but it still pissed me off.”

Minka studies me from behind her giant glasses. “Are you pissed because he was a cop or because he was a rat cop?”

“Both.”

“Or are you mad because the brother you idealized kept secrets from you?”

Narrowing my eyes, I mutter, “I didn’t idealize him.”

“Yeah, you did.”

“I looked up to him a little.”

“Don’t lie to your future wife.”

I roll my eyes but admire her ability to f*ck with me. “Low blow.”

“It’s okay if you feel like he betrayed you. I just want you to be honest about why you’re mad.”

“Fine, I’m mad because he had to be a dickhead and go on his own and do his stupid bullshit and lie about it all.”

“Do you want to talk to him?”

Shrugging, I’ve considered her question a million times.

“If he contacted you, would you take the call?” Minka asks.

“Sure, just to tell him to f*ck off.”

Minka’s soft fingers caress my face. I wish I weren't wearing the stupid makeup so I could feel her better.

“My brother always seemed like the coolest guy,” I admit. “He was a do-gooder as a kid too. I knew that, but having him be a rat cop was too much.”