Jet (Marked Men #2)(57)

“There is no such thing as perfect, Cora. Look at Adam. Good-looking, sweet as could be, amazing future all lined up in front of him, not to mention we had tons in common and I actually really enjoyed his company. None of that matters, because he didn’t do a goddamn thing for me, and all Jet has to do is look at me, grin a little tiny bit, and I’m ready to jump him and combust on impact.”

Shaw nodded vigorously. “My version of perfect tried to beat me within an inch of my life and rape me. There is no such thing, girl. You’re only going to be disappointed.”

She waved us off and reached for her beer. “Jimmy broke my heart, smashed it into a hundred million little pieces. I never knew anything could hurt that bad until I found him with that girl. I’m never going through that again. I’m holding out for the guy who is perfect—no issues, no drama, and no history of emotional unavailability or instability. There has to be someone out there who just fits the bill.”

She pointed a finger at me. “And Adam wore sweater vests, so clearly he wasn’t right for you.” She aimed the same finger at Shaw. “And you were in love with Rule forever, so even if everyone else thought crazy-pants was perfect, you always knew deep down inside that Rule was really the only one for you.”

That made both of us lapse into silence, so I just sighed. “Cora, we love you, and yes, you are annoyingly right most of the time, but I just think in this case you are setting the standard too high.”

She muttered something I didn’t hear and tried to lighten the conversation by pointing out, “It’s not like most guys are going to pass muster with the Terrible Trio anyway. They’re a hundred times worse than a dad with a shotgun.”

We all burst into raucous laughter that had Shaw wiping tears out her eyes. “Aaw. The big bad tattoo artists just love their little pixie.”

Cora scowled and threw a damp cocktail napkin at her, which had Shaw in turn flick her straw wrapper at her. Since we were morphing into kindergartners, I decided it was time to take a trip to the restroom. We had opted for the dive bar, so I had on my cowboy boots and a denim skirt with a tight black T-shirt that had the Jack Daniel’s logo on it on. It was cute, but low-key, and I was glad I wasn’t trying to navigate between tables and chairs in heels, considering I was wobbly at best.

The bathroom was gross, so I took care of business as fast as I could and scrubbed my hands like I was getting ready for surgery. I was slicking on a layer of lip gloss and trying to ascertain just how drunk I was by touching the tip of my nose with my index finger, when the door to the small room rattled. I jumped away from the mirror, and hollered that I would be out in a minute, but that didn’t deter whoever was trying to get in. Had I been sober, I probably would have been way more freaked out. As it was, when the shabby knob finally gave up the fight and the figure crowded into the room with me, it was all I could do to muster up some startled surprise.

I most definitely hadn’t been expecting the lurking stranger that I had seen around my neighborhood, the man who I was sure had tried to manhandle Cora, to appear in this gross bathroom and be instantly up in my face. He grabbed my shoulders and shoved me against the sink. Now that only a fraction of space separated us, I no longer had a hard time placing him.

“Silas.”

I said it like people said the word cancer, which is really what he was. Silas Anderson was all the bad things to all the bad people, and if he was who my brother was running from, then whatever Asa had told me was only half the story. The reason I hadn’t recognized him earlier was that life clearly had not been kind to him since I left Woodward. He was a year older than Asa but looked like he was fifty. His skin was gross and taunt, his eyes wild and sunken, and his once decent hair hung stringy and oily around an ugly face. It was hard to believe that at one point, this guy had been considered a catch. It was equally hard to believe that at one point, I hadn’t considered sleeping with him to be all that bad of a chore, if it kept him off my brother’s back. Now, the idea made my stomach lurch and my head spin.

“Where’s the book, Ayd? I know Asa is here. I knew that pu**y couldn’t resist running to you to fix his shit, like always. I need that book back now.”

I tried to shake him off, but the space was too small and he was fueled by desperation and panic.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” My teeth clicked together hard when he started to shake me.

“I don’t know what your idiot brother told you, but this isn’t small-time stuff he stumbled into. If he doesn’t give the book back, these people won’t just kill him, they’ll take out their anger on your ma and then they’ll come after you.”

I got a hand on his chest and shoved him back enough so that I could wiggle toward the door.

“What are you talking about? Asa told me he owes someone twenty grand for something he took.”

Silas barked a laugh that made my skin crawl. “No way. That moron jacked the little black book from one of the local MCs. It has the totals due and money owed from anyone and everyone over most of the f**king south. I don’t know what he thought he was going to do with it, but now he has everyone and their goddamn mother on his ass to get it back. You know he’ll sell you out faster than a greased pig to get out of this mess, Ayd. Just tell me where it is.”

“Did you try to break into my house?”

He looked around the room and his eyes were buggy and wild. “Little bitch almost Tasered me in the nuts.”