“It's not like that,” I explain. “That family is dead to me. I left that place and I’ve never looked back. I hated the violent shit my Pops was a part of. I wanted to leave that behind me and start over.”
I run my hands through my hair, knowing I am in too deep—but also knowing I need these guys on my side or I’ll have nothing to fall back on when the shit really hits the fan.
“Look, Grotto fucking killed a man yesterday as a threat to me.”
“Why, though?” Landon asks. “Why does Grotto want to screw you over?”
“Because we both want the same piece of fucking property.”
At this, McQueen shoves away, hands in the air. “Fuck this. You're dragging us into a life-or-death situation over a fucking building?”
“It's not a building. It's the building. I want it to stake my claim on this town.”
“You already have a fucking hotel named after you, Ace,” Jack says, aggression dripping from his voice. “What more do you need to prove?”
“Everything. I need to prove to myself that I can dominate with clean money, prove that my fucking piece of shit father went about it the wrong way. He gained his power by threats and killing anyone who got in his motherfucking way. That isn't me. I want an empire, but I want to build it the right way.”
“That's golden, Ace,” McQueen says, laughing sarcastically. “You used your own capital to get this hotel—you telling me that cash was clean? Bullshit. We’re standing on dirty money right now.”
I throw my beer bottle against the wall and swipe at the food on the counter; it crashes to the floor.
“You think I don't know that?” I yell. “You think I don't carry that with me everywhere I go? Why do you think I want this property so bad? I want to build something good. Something decent. Something I can be motherfucking proud of.”
Landon comes up to me, pushes me against the wall. “Fucking cool it, Ace.”
When I raise my hands in surrender, he steps back, lets go of me. I've never seen him so pissed off.
Jack shakes his head. “I know what it fucking means to want to prove something. I know what it means to want something you can be proud of. But don't fucking play around with this guy Grotto.”
“Then what do you want me to do? “I ask. “Back off? Let him get the property on his own? Let him win?”
“Is that what this is about? Not wanting him to win?” Landon asks.
“It's about not wanting to lose everything to him. Once my investors find out about whatever dirt Grotto has, I'll be toast in this town. No one will want to touch me.”
The room is quiet for a moment, everyone tense. I’m still scared my best friends are gonna walk out on me.
But then Jack shrugs, and says, “Then back off the investors.” He raises an eyebrow at Landon and McQueen and they all nod in agreement. “Let us invest in you. In this property.”
“Hell yeah,” Landon agrees. “I don’t want that guy to win. It’s the principle of the thing.”
“Fuck,” McQueen says. “We can build this motherfucking town on our own. That's what we came here to do, isn't it?”
Landon, Jack, and McQueen raise their beers, all of us grinning. I join in, clinking our bottles in unison.
I don't know what's wrong with me. Ever since I met Emmy Rose, my emotions are screwing me over. These guys having my back like this makes me wanna cry like a fucking baby.
“You guys can’t do that. There are too many risks involved. Grotto wants to tear me down, and I don’t want him coming after you.”
“Hell, no—we’re your family now,” McQueen says. “Fuck Grotto.”
I clench my jaw, not knowing how to respond to this support. The last person who treated me so well was my mother.
“You have to let us help you,” Jack says. “What’s the point of having all this money if I can’t help a friend?”
“Besides,” Landon adds. “My father will piss himself when he learns I want to do something in the business sector.”
“You guys are fucking nuts,” I say. “And I don’t know how I’ll ever repay you.”
“You’re the fucker who got us the gigs we have here at Spades,” Jack says. “You’re the reason my career, and McQueen’s career, have taken off. And our boy Landon would be playing at the fucking Tropicana if you hadn’t saved his ass from that scene. We’re good, bro.”
“Okay,” I tell them. “Let’s do this.”
EMMY
The next morning I wake up on the couch. Errr, the next day. It's like two in the afternoon. I genuinely can't think of the last time I slept in so late, but considering we didn't get home until five this morning, I guess we didn't sleep an obscene about of time.