So he couldn’t give him the opportunity.
To his relief, no one else had any problems beyond the shit that popped up here and there. Tommy had to run off some Sheridan boys last week, but it had been drunk men acting like assholes and not an actual skirmish. Harmless stuff, especially since Tommy had defused the situation before anyone got violent.
He still needed to figure out what he was going to do to keep Ricky busy—and soon. The longer his brother sat idle, the more likely he was to say “to hell with it” and go back to doing exactly what he’d been doing before James was forced to take such extreme measures. I just have to keep him away from the girls. He turned to Michael, sitting in the passenger seat of the Chevelle, his hands in his lap, like he was afraid of touching anything. “When’s the next shipment coming in to replace what we lost in the Sheridan attack?”
“Got a hundred AKs two days from now.”
He thought fast. “Those the ones we owe our friends on the West Coast?”
“Yep.”
They didn’t transfer goods often, but his father had created a trade with some group back west. Guns for…something. James wasn’t sure. He wasn’t too keen on sending guns off to people he didn’t know, where they’d be used for God knew what, but he had enough enemies. Courting more was stupid, even if they were three thousand miles away. His father had made a deal, and he’d follow through on it. After that…Well, once it was done he’d reevaluate.
But this might be a blessing in disguise. He’d get Ricky out of Boston for a while, and maybe the distance between them would be enough to dim some of his brother’s anger. He doubted it, but it couldn’t hurt to try.
Plus, then he wouldn’t have to be looking over his shoulder for a knife—at least for a week or so. “Put my brother on it. Send him and…” Not Jake. He’d just get Ricky into more trouble. Joe wasn’t up to work yet, not after…James moved past what he’d done to the man. “Matthew and Eddie.” They were solid, and they’d made that run before so they should be able to keep his brother in line. He might not trust them like he trusted Michael, but they could take orders, and he’d be reasonably sure that they’d obey. Especially after they’d seen Joe’s hands.
“Will do, boss.”
“Good.” He headed for the house, satisfied that he’d made the right decision. A little space would do both him and Ricky good.
He hadn’t thought about Carrigan for a whole ten minutes.
What was she doing right now? He wouldn’t put it past her father and brother to have shipped her out of town again, well beyond his reach. My fault. Never should have gone to that stupid wedding. Normally, he never would have made such a reckless decision, but the woman made him crazy. A little over forty-eight hours since seeing her and he was already twitchy, his temper fraying over every little thing. He wanted her safe in his arms. Ironic, because in his arms was where she was in the most danger. He had no doubt that Aiden meant his threat—it meant war to continue his affair with Carrigan.
The problem was…he wasn’t sure it wasn’t worth it.
No, he had to stop pussyfooting around. Carrigan was worth it. He’d never had a woman make him feel the way she did. He’d happily set the world afire and watch it burn if she asked it of him. She wouldn’t, though. He knew her well enough to know that. She’d never been put first in her life before, and the truth was that he was a shitty leader for being willing to do it. He just didn’t give a fuck.
He couldn’t call her. The stakes were too high. He wouldn’t put her in that position unless he knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that she wanted to be there. She had to be the one to reach out to him.
And she hadn’t.
The problem was that he didn’t know if it was because she didn’t want to or if she couldn’t. He could understand her being furious with him. He’d screwed up, but it didn’t change anything between them—at least not as far as he was concerned—and not knowing where she stood pissed him the hell off.
He parked and they headed into the house. “Brief Eddie and Matthew. Make sure they know how important this shit is—and how disappointed I’ll be if something goes wrong.” After Michael nodded and disappeared down a side hall, James went in search of his brother. It didn’t take long for him to find Ricky. He’d posted up in the giant family room on the leather couch, his boots propped on the coffee table, basketball on the TV.
James stopped and looked around the room. This used to be the place where he and his brothers spent most of their time. Where they’d fought and bonded over whatever sports was in season. Where they’d eventually grown apart, so they were more strangers than family.