Gabe

The following morning, I trot down the back stairs of my apartment, my cellphone in hand, the metal stairs creaking beneath my weight. When I reach the door of the black stretch limo waiting in the parking lot near my Audi, the door opens, and Micah’s already scooting over into the next seat so I can slide in. As I do, I note Darius and Ryder sitting across from one another on the side bench seats.

“Morning,” Darius says.

“Mornin’.” I reply, shutting the door behind me, feeling empty.

Last night I slept little and spent some time in the pub, helping out the staff. This morning, the exhaustion is weighing on me. All that I want is gone. The woman I want to be with is nowhere near me, and the world that I once thought I controlled has only spiraled out of control faster.

I’m a fixer, it’s what I do.

I don’t know how to fix what’s going on with McKenna and me, because I don’t know how to move past disliking her brother, or fuck, even tolerating him.

“You look like shit,” Micah quips.

“I feel like shit,” I agree.

Micah frowns, then faces the front windshield. “Onward, Levi.”

His driver, who looks better suited to be working alongside Ryder than driving Micah around, acknowledges the order with a nod, then pulls out of the parking lot.

“I admit,” Ryder says, crossing an ankle over his knee. “It’s pleasant not to have anything serious to discuss.”

I nod. “I’m glad to have this all behind us.”

Darius, whose suit jacket is open, black tie neatly in place, asks, “What about Marcus Draken, do you think he will be a problem?”

I shake my head. “He got paid, what else would he want?”

“More money.” Micah snorts.

“That’s doubtful,” Ryder says, agreeing with me. “As hard as it is to believe, even loan sharks have a code of ethics. Draken will do what he can, in any way necessary to get paid and squeeze out as much money as he can from someone, but the debt wasn’t Gabe’s. I suspect he’ll leave us alone.” The sides of his mouth crease. “Besides, Draken has avoided the law for years. He knows better than to fuck with a man who’s got a hacker like Alex in his arsenal. We’ll easily gather enough evidence to bury Draken for years, and I’m sure he knows that.”

“That’s good news,” Darius remarks.

I nod, rubbing my tired eyes. “Very good news. The last thing I need is more of a mess, especially because I’m still trying to clean up the old mess.” When silence falls upon the car, I drop my hands and find all eyes on me. “Problem?” I ask.

Ryder frowns and asks, “I’m not exactly sure what you still have to clean up. Did you take a financial hit when you paid the debt off?”

“Money isn’t the trouble,” I say.

“McKenna is,” Micah offers.

I nod, and Darius shakes his head slowly as the car bounces, going over a bump in the road. “Forgive me,” Darius says, “but I’m not following. Isn’t McKenna safe at the hospital with her brother?”

“She is,” I say.

Micah smiles and adds, “But she’s not where she should be, with Gabe.”

I snort, glancing sideways at Micah. “Are you finished?”

“Not even close,” Micah retorts, giving a knowing look, tugging on his cuffs beneath his blazer. “I’ve known you for a long time, Gabe, and I see exactly what the problem is. You’re in love with her, and she’s picked her dipshit brother over you, and now you’re trying to figure out how to forgive the guy that not only endangered her life but cost you two hundred grand.”

I sigh, dropping my head back against the headrest, shutting my eyes. Spelled out like that it sounded disastrous. “Well, you’re not wrong,” I admit.

“Can you forgive him?” Darius asks.

“Never,” I say with my eyes still closed. “He hand-delivered McKenna to a fucking loan shark. That’s not something I can forgive.” I lift my head and half-shrug. “But . . .”

Ryder nods in understanding. “You’ll tolerate him for her.”

“That’s exactly where I am in trying to figure this all out,” I admit, rubbing the tension out of the back of my neck as the limo slows at a red light. Because this is complex. I wouldn’t ask McKenna to stop seeing her brother, but I’m not sure I can watch her support him like she has been. “So,” I continue, running around in the same place my mind has been all damn night, “even though this is all behind us, I still feel like I’m in the same place I was before it all began.”

Darius arches a brow. “Which is?”

“It’s complicated.”

As the car picks up speed again, the men chuckle around me, telling me they relate. And I suppose most things where women and emotions are involved tend to be complicated.

Micah stretches an arm out against the top of the seat, his expression the supportive one I’ve seen for years. “If we can help, you’ll ask?”

“Of course,” I agree. “But this, I’m afraid, is in McKenna’s hands. Until I know her next move, I won’t know mine.”

Ryder watches me for a moment, studying me intently, then offers, “You’ve been put through hell and back with this entire situation, and so has McKenna. I have to believe that at the end of this, some good will come out of it.”

Micah gives a firm nod and adds, “Besides, she’s a smart and strong woman. I have no doubt she’ll see this situation for what it is and do the right thing by you.”

I shift in my seat, stretching out my legs. “Ah, but I gave her the chance to do the right thing already. I booked her brother a plane ticket last night for a treatment center in Arizona.” I hold up my phone, waving it from side to side. “And yet, there is no call, is there?”

“Maybe she just needs time,” Micah says.

I shrug again. “Maybe.”

“We’re here.”

At Levi’s voice, I glance out the window as he pulls to a stop, and I find a high-rise reminding me of Holt Enterprises, Micah’s billion-dollar real estate company. Black glass and steel lead up to the sky, and it’s clear enough from the well-dressed people moving in and out of the revolving door that the companies in this skyscraper do well.

“Are we ready?” Ryder asks.

I nod. “Let’s finally put this bullshit to bed.” I open the door and step out into the bright, sunny day, followed by three of the most powerful men in San Francisco. Just as I’m about to enter, Micah stops me.

“Give us one minute,” he says to Darius and Ryder.

Both nod and are inside the building a second later, and Micah turns to me.

His expression is serious, voice even more so. “Regardless that at first you likely hurt McKenna, you fought like hell to prove yourself to her. You did more than I think any one of us would have done in your situation.” He pauses and cups my shoulder. “If McKenna can’t see that, Gabe, she doesn’t deserve you.”

The air between us feels weighted with the years of friendship we’ve shared. We’ve gone from wild years in our twenties to now simpler times in our thirties. To Micah, I’m brutally honest. “Deserve me or not, she’s the one I want,” I tell him, and because there’s nothing more to say, I turn away and enter the building.

Micah follows me inside, keeping his eyes fixated ahead of him. We’re focused on what we need to do and why we’re here. I stay in behind him, with Darius and Ryder flanking me, knowing Micah will take over for now, because when it comes to getting upstairs, he’s our way inside.

“Good afternoon, Mr. Holt,” the security guard at the front desk says, obviously well aware that Micah owns the building.

“Good afternoon,” Micah says with a genuine smile. “I’m taking these gentlemen up for a look around the new office space upstairs. Do you need them to sign in?”

The guard scans our faces and laughs softly. “No, sir, I’ll take care of all of that.”

“Thank you,” is Micah’s reply.

Within seconds we’ve passed through security and are entering the elevator at the back of the main lobby. Silence is thick and heavy between us, a world of tension that’s been building for months seeping into the air around us. When the elevator chimes open, Micah’s out as fast as he entered, striding toward the reception desk with us in tow. The closer we get, the wider the eyes of the woman behind the counter get.

When Micah reaches the desk, he arches a brow. “Miss, do you know who I am?”

“Y-yes,” the young woman says. “Ah . . . y-yes, Mr. Holt, what can I do for you?”

“Since you know who I am, I’m sure you’ll understand that I would be greatly annoyed if I have to wait,” he adds. “Point me in the direction of Penelope Burke’s office.”

“Um…” She blinks twice. “Third office on the left.” She points down the hallway.

Micah’s down that hallway a second later, and we’re right there with him as he steps into Penelope’s office. “We need to talk,” he says to her while she sits behind her metal desk in a black chair, a stunning view of the Financial District skyline behind her. “Where’s the meeting room?”

On any other day, I’d say she was cute with her big hazel eyes, round face, and a thick head of strawberry-blond curls, but today isn’t that day.

She visibly swallows, taking in the men crowding her office. And that stunned surprise is exactly why we’re here together, and why we didn’t arrange for this meeting ahead of time. We need her caught off guard. We need to intimidate. And doing it this way means no one could warn Penelope we’re here. She couldn’t run and hide, and as much as I don’t want to be here today, I’ve been waiting months for this sweet moment.

“Now,” Micah snarls, lip curled.

She quickly recovers, washing any emotion off her face, and rises. “Please follow me.”

Once she leads us farther down the hallway, we enter the meeting room on the left. I have to give it to her, she doesn’t even flinch when she watches us sit around the meeting room table. She shuts the door behind her and strides in without a hint of arrogance or nervousness. This twenty-something woman knows how to play the game.

“So,” she says, stopping at the end of the table, resting her hands against the back of the chair, “what exactly can I do for you?”

I reach into my pocket and hand her the affidavit that Ross Sterling drafted for me, and I give her the time to read it before adding, “As you can see, this is a copy of an affidavit signed by Evan Archer, where he admits that you knew that he was illegally bugging my pub, recording our conversations, and printing those findings in your magazine.” There’s a lot more I want to say to her, but I stick to the facts.

Her eyes slowly lift, and even then, there isn’t even a flicker of concern in her expression. “I take it that since the police aren’t here yet you don’t plan on pressing charges?”

Smart as shit, I’d give her that. “Do not mistake my generosity for weakness,” I tell her sternly, arching a brow her. “If you print anything further about any of us”—I gesture at the men around me—“you will regret it.”

She draws in a deep breath, glances at the paper once more, then faces me. “Well, it was a good run while it lasted.”

Micah growls, “Coldhearted bi—”

“You will also not print anything about our families,” Darius interjects, eyes narrowed on her, “girlfriends, wives, or anyone else connected to us in any fashion whatsoever.”

I agree with a firm nod. “This run, as you call it, is over.”

“And on top of that,” Micah snarls, a vein protruding from his forehead as he leans across the table, “if you do have a lapse in judgment and print anything on any of us, our families, girlfriends, or wives, I will sue not only the paper but you personally. Believe me, Ms. Burke, by the time I’m done with you, your name will be ruined, and not a single paper or shit magazine in the fifty states will come near you.”

An unusually quiet Ryder finally speaks up. “I will add, Ms. Burke, if even after all that you still think it might be a good idea to print another story about our lives, be aware that I can dig into every little nook and cranny of not only your life, but I’ll look into the lives of your parents, Margaret and Paul, even your little brother, Tyler. No one will be safe. Not your best friend, Kristen. Not your boyfriend, Eric. I will expose all their dirty little secrets until every one of the people you love is exposed like you’ve exposed us. Does that make things perfectly clear to you?”

Her skin paled halfway through his speech, obviously realizing he knows names he shouldn’t know. She draws in a deep breath and lifts her chin. Then the woman who tried her best to destroy us all for ratings, all for a good story, utters the words we’ve longed to hear. “You won’t see your names in Gotcha! again.”