He’d never forget the day he watched his half–Seminole Indian mother walking down the dirt road, knowing he’d never see her again. She’d gathered her sons one day when their father had gone into town, told them she loved them, but that she had to leave. When they had begged her to take them with her, she’d smiled her sad smile.
“This is the hardest day of my life, leaving you in the hands of your father. If I take you, he will find us and kill us all. This he has sworn to do if I dared such a thing. There is a reason I must go, but you are strong boys and you will grow up to be men I can be proud of.” She had kissed each of them as tears streamed down her face. “Nathan, you will see that you and your brothers study hard and get good grades. Court, you will help your older brother protect Alex.” She’d knelt then. “My baby. This will be the hardest for you, but be brave and strong for your brothers. Can you do that?”
Alex stared out the taxi window, remembering how he’d promised to be strong even as hot tears had flowed down his cheeks and burned his skin. He’d been seven that day, the last time he’d cried. Brave, strong boys didn’t cry, and after that, no matter how heavy his father’s hand was, he’d willed away his tears.
That had been the saddest day of his life. The day his father keeled over and died had been the happiest. Nate had been seventeen, and having stepped into the role of mother at age eleven—continuing their late-night study sessions, keeping them fed and clean— upon the old man’s death, he had stepped into the role of father, too. He’d pushed them hard to maintain their good grades, to follow him into college, and after they’d gotten their degrees, Nate had recruited him and Court into the FBI.
No, he hadn’t cried since watching his mother walk away with slumped shoulders, but his damn eyes were burning from all the remembering. Not in the best of moods to be hooking up with Ramon, he did what he knew how to do best. He crushed the video streaming through his mind belonging to that lost boy.
He paid the driver, pausing as he exited the taxi to survey the newest South Beach hot spot where Ramon had said to meet him. Purple, pink, and turquoise neon lights pulsated, screaming out the name of the club. A line of people dressed in their hottest clubbing clothes wound around the corner, hoping to get into Rage. Alex hated places like this, but work was work, so he walked up to the bouncer, knowing that because Ramon had invited him here his name would be on the list.
“Alex Gentry,” he said.
The man eyed his phone, scrolling down the screen with his thumb. “Yep. You can go in.”
“Can I be your date?” a pretty brunette said, slipping out of line and linking her arm around his.
He smiled at her. “Why not.” Once inside, he freed his arm. “Go play,” he said.
“What if I want to play with you?” She blinked long lashes at him.
“Define play,” he said, lifting his mouth in a half smile that he’d learned women loved.
“I love games, if that answers your question,” she said, her gaze leveled on his mouth.
Hell. He couldn’t do this. There wasn’t a future in the cards with Madison, but he couldn’t see her again knowing his mouth had been on another woman’s. And he would see her again, that was inevitable as she was Ramon’s cousin.
“I’m not the man for you, gorgeous.” He gave her a gentle push. “Enjoy your evening.” Without waiting to hear a protest, he lost himself in the crowd. The place was suffocatingly packed, and while normally he thrived on this kind of action, all Alex wanted to do was go home.
Where the hell was Ramon? The overwhelming scents of perfumes and colognes assaulted his nostrils as he pushed his way through the crowd. About the time he’d decided to say to hell with it and walk out, a beefy hand clamped down on his shoulder.
Alex spun, caught the man’s fingers in his grip, and bent one back. “Don’t ever touch me like that again, man.” He’d known it was one of Ramon’s men, but the only way to get respect from these dudes was to be meaner than they were.
The oversized, gym-muscled man squealed. “Damn, that hurts. Let go.”
“Where’s Ramon?” Alex let go of the man’s fingers.
“Upstairs. He’s got a table.”
Alex followed Ramon’s bodyguard, thinking it was going to be a hell of a long night.
It had been an exciting opening week, and as Madison studied the spreadsheet detailing their expenses and income, she tried not to think of Alex. He hadn’t called or texted once, obviously honoring her request not to return. Every night, she’d waited for a tap on her window that never came, and she had to stop hoping he would show up even after she’d told him not to. She could have texted him, but her pride had kept her from doing that.