Sweet Fall (Sweet Home #2)(21)

“You gonna talk about what that call was over after the game?” Rome eventually said without taking his eyes from the screen.

I flashed a glance in his direction. He was wearing his usual sleeveless Tide shirt and jeans as he leaned on his hand. He must’ve felt me looking at him and he looked my way.

“Well?” he pushed, and I sat up on the edge of my bed, elbows leaning on my knees as I ran my hands over my head in frustration.

I couldn’t speak about my mamma. It was too damn painful.

“Carillo. C’mon, man. Something’s going on and it’s eating at you. Is it your mamma?”

Sighing, I looked over at my best friend and the concerned frown on his face. “Yeah. She’s getting worse.”

Rome’s face fell. He loved my mamma to death. She’d been a mother to him when his own didn’t wanna know him. She’d cared for him, listened to his problems, and watched every football game we both played.

“What needs to be done?” he asked bluntly.

I shrugged. “Don’t know, some wonder pill she needs.”

“So get it. What’s the problem?” he said plainly.

My gut clenched and I glared at him.

Rome leaned forward and said, “Austin, if this is a question of money, you know I’ll—”

“Don’t,” I snapped. “Don’t even finish that damn sentence. I’m not taking anything from you. I know you mean well and all, but that won’t be happening.”

Rome stood and began pacing the room. “Fuck, Carillo! Don’t be so damn stubborn! You know I’ve got the cash to spare. My grandparents left me millions… millions, eighty-three! And shit, but after all your mamma did for me as a kid, I’ll gladly give it. I ain’t got nothing else to spend it on. If my daddy has his way, I’ll be running Prince Oil before long, and I’ll be a goddamn billionaire!”

Walking across to Rome, I put my hand on his shoulder, stopping him from pacing. As he looked up at me, I could see the anguish on his face about my mamma. About his daddy putting pressure on him to reject the NFL draft and take over the family business. My best friend was hurting too.

We were both f*cked.

“One: you ain’t gonna run Prince Oil. You’re gonna get drafted and go pro. You know you’ll be a first round pick in the draft. Keep on to that plan. And two: as much as I appreciate what you’re trying to do for me, for Mamma, with your money, it’s not gonna happen. Axel won’t accept it. Him, Levi, and me will sort shit. We’ll get it done.”

Rome scoffed and shook his head. “How will you get it done? The Heighters? Is that the answer to your money problems? Coke? Is that how you’ll get done?”

Ice ran through my veins. “Ain’t your concern, Bullet.”

Rome planted his hand on my shoulder. “That’s where you’re wrong. It is my damn business. I don’t wanna see my best friend, my brother, locked up for dealing cocaine. Your life’ll be ruined. And I’m telling you now, Carillo, you go down this road, I won’t support it. I can’t see you being dragged back into that life. Not when you got the NFL in your sights.”

Knocking away his hand, I moved back to the bed and slumped down.

“Carillo? What the f*ck?” Rome said angrily.

“I ain’t dealing, so calm the f*ck down.”

“But Axel is?” he said knowingly.

I nodded and Rome moved to sit beside me, both of us staring forward into the distance. We said nothing for several seconds.

“And now Levi,” I said reluctantly.

Instantly, Rome froze.

“Levi? Fourteen-year-old f*ckin’ Levi? Christ, Austin! No! You said he was just on the fringe of the Heighters. Not dealing for them!” he shouted, this time even more pissed off. Rome liked my kid brother. Wanted more for him.

“Yeah, man. My little bro. Levi’s old enough now to contribute. Axe will get him out when it’s all over. We Carillos are getting shit done the only way we know how.”

“Illegally,” Rome muttered.

I shot him a shitty look. “Don’t matter how, Rome, just as long as Mamma goes pain free. We both know it won’t be forever. A couple ’a hundred grand now, and then I’ll work on getting us all hell out.”

Rome turned to me. “Austin, I’m begging you now. Let me pay for her treatment. No loan or payback. Let me just gift it to you… for her sake.”

I slapped him on the back, my throat clogging with gratitude. “Not happening, man. But I’ll never forget what you offered. It’s more than anyone’s ever done for me.”

It may have sounded stubborn, but I wasn’t taking any money from my best friend. Not a dime. Mamma wouldn’t want it. She’s a proud woman… and I’m her equally proud son.

Rome and I both sat in quiet contemplation for a while before he stood up and walked to the door, the atmosphere between us now calm.

“Downstairs in ten, you and me need a drink,” Rome said, and I relaxed knowing we were passed our differences.

“Sure, man.”

Rome opened the door. Just as he was about to leave, I asked, “That English chick you’ve been spending time with—”

“Molly?” Rome answered. “What about her?”

“That little Goth chick she hangs ’round with, the cheerleader…”