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The door echoed shut as Shaun disappeared. I let him go; the world of hurt and confusion all over his face told me what I needed to know. He didn’t want to be around me right now, and I couldn’t blame him. We could work things through when he was ready, now was not the time.

The silence was oppressive in the room. Someone was trying to sit Shorty up in a chair. The guy needed a hospital but what he needed and what he was going to get were two very different things.

This day was not Shorty’s day. Oh, fuck no....

With his face a mess from the beating Shaun had given him, I waited for the disgust and fear to swallow me whole, but it kept its head at bay. All I felt was wrung out and tired, still recovering from the assault and the fallout from Shaun.

It was time to make things right again.

I knew my father had left Beaufort earlier, I’d heard the cars peel out of the driveway while I’d been lying on my bed, floundering in the remnants of grief and self-pity. When my phone rang a few hours later, I let it be, but it rang again and again until I eventually got so sick of it I picked it up. The soft sobbing on the other end had me wide awake in five seconds flat. I didn’t know who it was at first, the sobbing continuing for a good minute or more before the caller had calmed enough to utter the word ‘sorry’ in my ear. It gave me a clue to who it was. I let her speak, didn’t say a word while she re-counted the night with Shaun, then told me where he was. I hung up feeling as bad as she did.

Fuck. Way to mess up.

Chrissie was just another victim of her father’s greed and games, of Shorty’s sadistic little mind.

I crossed the room to my dad. “Ayden?” he asked, confused at my appearance.

“Ah, Mr. Rinaldi’s heir. Hello, Ayden.” The old man I presumed was Charlie, spoke up. “Perhaps when you take your father’s seat you’d feel more inclined to do business with me?” He shot daggers across the table before smiling devilishly.

My dad took a step closer, a protective move I was beyond. I was a man and didn’t need nor want to hide behind him anymore. I wanted to be at least half the man my father was, and he was strong and proud and determined.

Laughing shortly, I shook my head. “If your business is no good for my father then I can assure you, it’s no good for me either.”

I watched the shock register on his face, as if I’d dared to speak to him in such a way. He obviously thought I’d be a far easier man to manipulate. How fucking wrong he was. I had no idea what business he referred to, but I knew it would never be the kind of business I wanted anything to do with. My father smiled and clapped me on the back.

I wasn’t finished yet.

“Shaun is my business too, but not something you need to concern yourself with.” I glared at the man, stiffened my spine, drew my stance taller and continued. “There’s no deal to be had here, Shaun is not yours.” I wasn’t asking, I was telling.

The man climbed from his seat, his eye twitching, most likely at the audacity of my words. I couldn’t have given a fuck. “You are not the one to make that decision boy!” he almost shouted.

Looking around me, my father and my uncle were at my sides. Shorty was still being propped up on the chair by two big guys, their attention focused on him.

Perfect.

“There’s no deal to be made here, not now, not ever,” I re-iterated. It took all my nerves and courage but I fucking did it. I stepped around Ryder and pulled the gun I’d stolen from my father’s locked drawer from the back of my jeans lightening quick.

Pop!

That’s all it took. One single pop and Shorty was splayed on the floor. I couldn’t see where I’d shot him, didn’t need to, his still body told the tale. Nobody said a word, not one fucking word, their breaths held in stunned disbelief. I turned heel and walked towards the door, shoving the gun back into my pants.

“No fucking deal!” I shouted. “Shaun’s mine,” I barked without turning around.

Leaving the room, I tucked my trembling hands into my pockets, walking quickly from the building. My heart was racing, like a heart attack was threatening. Keeping the smile plastered on my face, I made my way back to the car, moving around to the back of the trunk with quick steps before bending over the grass almost hyperventilating. Bile rose in my throat, I was struggling to get a hold on myself.

I’d shot someone.

Fuck, fuck, fuck!

Oh yeah, the freak out was coming, and it wasn’t going to be pretty. Vomit came quickly, barrelled up my throat a hundred miles an hour, erupting at my feet as I spewed up. I didn’t stop for a good few minutes. Eyes streaming and spittle hanging from my mouth, I desperately gasped for air.

Straightening up, I unlocked the car, then jumped in. Hunting about in the glove box for something to wipe my face with, I rubbed a tissue across my face and slumped in the seat chanting to myself. I had to get a grip, I couldn’t be seen like this. It defeated the purpose, made obsolete the statement I’d just made to a roomful of people. It had to stick in a big way.

I had to pull it together.

Find Shaun.

Shaun.

I thumped my head back against the headrest and closed my eyes. Memories of Jake came quick and fast. His smile, his touch, the excitement on his face the first time he kissed a girl, him kissing me. Jake kissing me.

Jake.