Warrant (Righteous Outlaws #1)(29)

His green eyes were heavy lidded and tired. He was pale, and my guess  was that he lost a lot of blood. His hair was a matted mess, and he  looked like he had been through hell and back, yet he was still the  sexiest man I'd ever seen.

I swallowed down the desire to take him in my arms. To crash my lips to his. "We need to talk."

"You already made you decision. There's nothing left to say."                       
       
           



       

"There's plenty left to say."

"No, there isn't." Cash pushed past me, but I wasn't going to let him  walk away so easily. I had questions, and he was the only one who could  answer them. He was the only one I trusted.

I grabbed his good arm, and spun him back to me. His eyes met mine, and I  could see his defiance waning. He reached out, his hand resting on my  cheek, and pulled me close to him. His lips were a mere whisper away  from mine, but before I could succumb to my desires, I needed to know.  "How do you know my dad?"





Cash





Aubree looked at me with those big brown eyes, waiting for a response.  My relationship with her father was complicated. It was a web of lies,  deceit, and the breaking of too many laws to even keep track of. Keeping  the doc's secret was what gave us leverage, but now, with our new deal,  we wouldn't need that leverage anymore. However, that new deal was made  so he could keep his family in the dark of his shady dealings.

I shouldn't care. Shouldn't give two shits about airing the doc's dirty  laundry, but it was more than that. What I knew. It could destroy  everything that Aubree ever knew. She would learn that the life she had  been living was a complete and total lie. Her father wasn't the man she  thought he was. And I wasn't sure if I was man enough to ruin her life.

"Cash, please. You're the only one I trust to tell me the truth." The desperation in her voice damn well undid me.

I grabbed her hand, and yanked her down the hall. "Not here," I muttered, and guided her out to her car in the parking lot.

We got in, and she turned in her seat. "Talk."

"It's not safe. Your dad's inside. He can come out any minute and see  us. Go to my house. I'll tell you everything when we get there."

"Promise?" she asked.

I took her hand in mine, lacing my fingers through hers. I pressed a kiss to her knuckles. "Promise."

The drive to my house was short, and I wished it lasted a little longer.  I wasn't ready to let go of Sunshine's hand, and I sure as hell wasn't  ready to turn her world upside down by filling her in on her father's  misgivings. She pulled up in front of my house, and threw the car in  park. She was out of the car, and standing at my front door, before I  even had the chance to open the door.

Sunshine wasn't the same girl who hopped on the back of my bike that  night. The events over the past few weeks had changed her, and I knew,  once she heard what I had to tell her, she would never be the same.

So, while I was in no rush to get in my house, she stood impatiently on  my porch, tapping her foot. I wondered, if she would be so anxious to  hear about her father, if she really knew what I had to say about him.  There was no use delaying the inevitable.

I lit up a cigarette, and walked up the porch steps. I leaned against  the railing, and took a long drag before opening the door. I held the  door open for Aubree and, as she walked in, I flicked my stog.

Aubree spun toward me. "We're completely alone now," she said, then  started laughing manically. "Unless some gun wielding psycho is hiding  out in your bedroom."

Past the laughing, I could see the fear hiding beneath the surface. It  showed in her eyes. Eyes that had once been bright and filled with a  love of life had turned dull and lifeless. Fear that was never a part of  her would probably be imbedded in her soul, and stay with her forever.  The laughing continued giving way to small bouts of sobs. I watched her  with trepidation. She was stronger now, but she had fucking killed a man  to save my life in this very house. I didn't know if she had really  dealt with it, or if she pushed it to the back of her mind. I told her  to forget about it. Convinced her to forget, and only keep the knowledge  that I was the one who took the kill shot. Had she been able to do  that? Put it out of her head? Or were these rounds of laughter and sobs  she was experiencing now her way of trying to purge herself of the  memory?

The crazy laughter gave way to silence, and I took her in my arms. I  pushed her hair out of her face, and urged her to look at me. I needed  to know that she was okay. "How have you been doing?"

She abruptly pulled away from me. "I'm fine. Stop trying to get off topic. How do you know my dad?"

"I can't sit here and talk to you about this shit storm unless I know  you're okay." I sat down on the couch, and held my hand out to her. She  slipped her fingers into mine, and I slowly pulled her to me until she  was on my lap. I ran my hand down her cheek, wanting to feel the  softness of her skin. "Before I tell you what you want to know, I need  to know that you're okay. Need to know that you are going to be able to  handle this." I drew her forehead to mine, linking my fingers behind her  head and drew in a deep breath that was all Sunshine. .                       
       
           



       

"I'm good," she assured me. Her hands came up to mine, and she removed  my hold on her. She stood defiantly in front of me, making it clear that  whatever I had to say she would handle.

"A few years back," I started. "Your dad came to the club. He had made a  few bad investments. Lost a shit ton of money. He was desperate. He  wanted to strike a deal with us. Your dad is a very smart man. He knew  our game, and he said he could help. Prescription drugs are a big  business on the streets. Pills go for ten times what they're worth on  the street. One Vicodin pill at retail is something like a dollar fifty.  On the street, you can get anywhere between five and twenty-five  dollars a pill. Your dad wrote false prescriptions, and we filled them.  Sold them on the street, and gave him a cut of the profit."

Aubree stepped back, stumbling into the chair across from me. Shock  tainted her beautiful face. Her entire life was crumbling before her,  and I was the goddamned wrecking ball that was doing it.

"Want me to stop?" I asked, concerned it was all too much for her.

"No, keep going."

"Are you sure?"

Her face went void of any emotion. "I said, keep going."

"He had access to the shit at the hospital, too. Made it easy for us to  sneak in and out, taking what we could without anyone noticing."

"How long?" she asked. She blinked up at me, her brown eyes now full of  so much shit I couldn't tell what she was feeling. "How long?" she  ground out.

"It started a little over four years ago."

"My college tuition," she mumbled. "That son of a bitch. I got notified  by the admissions office that there was a problem with my check. I  called him, and he told me it was a misunderstanding. That he  accidentally sent a check from an account he just closed, and that he  would take care of it. I never thought to question him further. I  believed every word he said. I trusted him."

"Of course you did. He's your father. If you can't trust your old man,  then who can you trust?" My old man might have been on the wrong side of  the law, but he was one of the few people I had trusted with my life. I  understood what it meant to put your faith in someone completely, but I  had no idea what it felt like to discover that same person was a  complete and total liar. That everything you thought was the truth  wasn't.

"I did. I trusted him and for what? He's a criminal. He won't even talk  to me since I was with you because of what you are. But, who is he to  make that judgment? He's no better. If anything, he's worse because he  took the Hippocratic Oath to uphold certain medical standards. How does  selling drugs uphold those standards? Damn it, how can he pretend to be  so above you? Act as if you're low life scum, and well beneath him, when  he's doing all the same things. What gives him that right?"

I shrugged. "He's a doctor, Aubree. It doesn't matter what he's done.  He's educated, has a real profession, so he's still better than me."

"No!" she exclaimed, and shot to her feet. She came to me, dropping to  her knees, and taking my hands in hers. "He's not. You're telling me the  truth right now, and not trying to cover it up with some bullshit  story. In my book, your honesty and integrity make you far superior to  him. My father is nothing more than a lying drug dealer."

"He lied to protect you." The words came out, and I had no idea why I  was defending him, but she was right. I wouldn't lie to her, and,  because of that, she needed to know the truth from both sides. "It was  the only way he knew how."