A Pound of Flesh (A Pound of Flesh #1)(185)

Austin lunged at Adam, but Adam was faster. It wasn’t always so, but age brought a strength that he didn’t have when they were kids. He pushed Austin away until his back was against the wall.

“Back the f*ck off, Austin,” Adam growled with a pointed finger in his face. “I am not six, and this company is not your goddamn G.I. Joe. Face the fact that, this time, your dirty little bastards couldn’t get you out of this and move on with your dignity and name intact.” He pulled back and adjusted his jacket. “Jesus, man, get a grip. You’re losing it.”

Austin swallowed. His face was beet red, his eyes wild.

Adam shook his head. “What happened, Austin?” he asked sadly. “I f*cking defended you. I turned Beth against her best friend for you! I’ll never forgive myself for that. Christ, man. I mean, this isn’t you.”

“This is me,” he countered. “This is me keeping this company alive before some coke-headed f*ckup drags it back to the gutter he came from.”

Adam glared in disgust. “Like you’re so f*cking perfect.” He chuckled without humor. “How can you be so self-righteous when you do the things you do?”

Austin’s back straightened and a glimmer of caution appeared in his eye.

“Yeah,” Adam whispered, glancing down at the photographs. “I’m sure the board would be interested to know who else you do business with. I don’t need photographs to prove the shit I know.”

[page]Austin gave a wry smile. “You son of a bitch.”


“Maybe,” Adam countered darkly. “But I’m telling you: let this go, Austin. Walk away with your head held high. Forget Carter, forget Kat; take your stocks, buy a house, or go on a long vacation to butt-f*ck nowhere, but walk away, or so help me.”

Adam turned slowly from his brother, adjusting his tie as he did.

“Well, hell, Ads,” Austin said. “That sounds like a threat.”

Stopping, Adam looked back over his shoulder. “No threat,” he answered before he walked toward the office door. With his fingers on the handle he continued, “It’s a promise.”

*

The tension in the car as Kat drove it back to Nana Boo’s was thick, much like the snow that lay like a blanket all over the city. Carter stopped tapping his foot against the car floor and cracked his knuckles, in hopes that the tension that had set his spine poker straight would somehow ease. He was utterly exhausted. It hadn’t been helped by the fact that he was running on seven hours of sleep over the past forty-eight hours. He closed his eyes.

“Are you okay?”

Carter kept his eyes closed, quirking an eyebrow in sardonic response. Like an *, he had no words of comfort for her even though he knew that Kat needed them from him badly. She silently craved assurance and support. He simply didn’t know how to give it to her. He settled for placing his hand on her leg.

Contact was good.

He could tell from the tremor in her voice she was as nervous as he was about the upcoming conversation with Eva, and rightly so. Even though he had gone over and over in his head what he wanted to say, Carter knew he was walking straight into the lion’s den, vulnerable and scared shitless.

He just had to make sure he didn’t let Kat’s mother control the discussion—if that was the appropriate word for it. Hell, it would be a heated one at the very least. He had to keep his head and allow her to have her say. That shit was vitally important. Carter was under no illusions; he understood why Eva behaved the way she did.

It was all about convincing Eva he loved Kat with his whole heart, that he would do anything for her, be anything for her. She was safe with him. He would protect her and cherish her until his last breath.