Sinful Longing (Sinful Nights, #3)(30)

“Seems she got a prime one,” John said. “Any idea why she would?”

“She probably blew somebody,” Michael said with a sneer.

Colin leaned forward, speaking in a stage whisper. “John, I wanted to let you in on a little secret. You might not have picked up on this, but Michael’s not a fan of our mom.”

John laughed lightly; the momentary tension had vacated. “That’s coming through loud and clear.”

“To answer your question, I have no idea why she would get a prime route, as you say. Except that she was desperate, and maybe she had some strings to pull, because she was willing to do whatever she had to do to get what she wanted. That’s what I know to be true about her. Maybe she and Stefano were working together,” Colin said, because that seemed plausible to him.

Michael cleared his throat. “What’s going on with the Royal Sinners these days, Detective? I follow the news; I’ve been reading up on them, seeing more and more stories about them rising in power. More crimes, more problems, more trouble. More organized, too, than their rival gangs. I keep hearing ‘Don’t mess with the Sinners.’”

“Yeah, we’ve upped the security at the center during the repairs just to make sure the kids are safe,” Colin added.

A somber look flitted into the detective’s eyes. “You hear right. They’re a top priority for Metro, and my men are working hard on gang enforcement and prevention. We’ve got an anonymous tip line for concerned citizens to report suspected gang activity, an anti-gang initiative, and public education is going strong. We’re doing everything we can on the enforcement front. Last week, we had a few more arrests of Royal Sinners members for grand theft auto, and some from rival gangs for burglary.”

“Glad to hear it’s being taken seriously. Some of my other clients have also been asking about it and increasing their security services based on what they’ve been reading in the news,” Michael said. “They want to protect themselves, and to know the authorities are working hard on it, too.”

“I assure you, we are. And you can let your clients know that you’ve talked to Metro and that we’re committed to this,” he added. “We’re doing everything we can to dismantle the gangs, member by member.”

That last word latched onto Colin’s brain, making him wonder if his old friend Paul had gone down the path of his brother into the Sinners.

“Hey, what happened to Paul? We didn’t stay friends.”

“Paul Nelson is dead,” John said, matter-of-factly, and Colin’s blood froze. “Shot three times in a drive-by shooting a few years ago. Retaliation from another gang over a murder. One we think T.J. was involved in. Both T.J. Nelson and Kenny Nelson are on the run now. They’re wanted for other crimes over the years.”

His whole body turned to ice. “Wow,” Colin said heavily, grappling with the shocking news. “Paul died before he was thirty.”

“Gangs are a young man’s business,” John said. “You don’t find many old men in street gangs. The young men usually die or wind up in prison by the time they hit thirty. Like Stefano. Like Paul.”

“What about T.J. and Kenny Nelson? They must be in their forties. What’s their secret to a long life as a gang man?”

“I’d like to know. Because they’re the exception to the rule,” John said, then thanked them for their time and walked away.

*

The bell above the door jingled. Marcus looked up from his math book as a guy in jeans and a black T-shirt entered the convenience store where he worked.

Marcus nodded a hello then returned to the page in front of him, as his mind replayed the day. Talking to Elle had unburdened him, and he was more fired up than ever about his plans. College, living on his own, getting to know his unknown family—he’d wanted all of that for so long, and he was close to having it. Living with his dad had been stifling for so many reasons. Sometimes he missed seeing his stepmom and his little sisters now that he was no longer at home with them, but Marcus was glad to live with his friends. He was on a path to becoming an assistant manager here at the store, and that was helping him make ends meet, along with his savings from little jobs over the years.

As he worked through some equations, the guy grabbed a bag of chips and sauntered over to the counter. He was about Marcus’s age, maybe a year older. He had a goatee, light eyes, and a black and blue fingernail on his right hand, as if he’d slammed it in a car door.

The guy tossed the bag on the counter, as if it were a prize he’d won at a fair. “I’ll take this tasty bag of barbecue chips, please,” he said, stretching out the last word.

“Sure,” Marcus said, scanning the bag. “That’ll be a dollar and two cents.”

The guy jammed his hands into his pockets, riffling around. He pulled out a flip phone and set it on the counter, eyeing it dismissively. “Someday I’ll get an iPhone.” Stuffing his hand into his pocket again, he produced a wadded-up bill, then spread it open. “Shit. I only have a one.”

“That’s cool. I got it,” Marcus said, reaching into the change tin to grab two pennies.

“You are the man,” the guy said with a too-wide grin as he pointed his index fingers at Marcus like guns.

“No problem.”

The guy glanced at the textbook and stabbed his finger against it. “You learning algebra or something like that?”