Chapter Thirty-Five
He passed on the hotel, and caught a cab to the airport. The bar was open all night, and he spent the time there, arguing with himself between beers. He’d already tried to call Ally, but found the phone number deactivated.
That didn’t surprise him. Her phone was likely Sheldon Construction property, and they would have turned it off as soon as she left.
Quit. Fired. He wasn’t sure which option he liked more.
I could hunt her down. Wouldn’t take much time to hack into her new phone, contact her that way.
He studied his drink and flinched.
And say what? Congrats on walking out on your family, finally. I’m sorry I punched your asshole pseudo-brother out, but he deserved it.
Oh, and by the way—I think I’m in love with you. If you don’t mind that I destroyed your family, your business, and broke your heart.
He pushed the thoughts away and opened up his laptop. It took only a few minutes to find the news he was looking for, deep within the financial papers posted on a website.
It wasn’t a big announcement, which made it more powerful. A handful of lines, tucked into the bottom of the screen. Trey took a few minutes to read and reread it, see between the carefully crafted announcement and spy the harsh truth underneath.
Sheldon Construction was in flux—partially due to Vincent Sheldon being arrested on unpaid parking tickets. He was out on bail already. That didn’t surprise Trey at all. By itself, the news shouldn’t have warranted a line in the financial section.
Except that wasn’t all.
Ally Sheldon had quit the company altogether with a publicly posted resignation letter that detailed her intention to claim her father’s half and break away. Henry Sheldon had come back out of retirement to run the company, but it was in the middle of an ugly financial divorce.
There was no mention of the events in Las Vegas.
Trey rubbed his eyes, trying to decipher what had gone on during his absence. Three weeks, and it’d all shifted.
But one thing was constant—his desire for Ally. He’d thought about her a hundred times, a thousand times when he was alone, his thoughts driving him on.
Now…he had no idea what to do.
The next morning, he landed at McCarran airport, bleary-eyed and tired. He shouldered his duffel and headed through the terminal toward the taxi stand.
“Hey.” Dylan appeared by his side.
Trey flinched, doing a double-take.
“Gotcha. The pot’s mine.” He beamed, obviously proud of himself.
“How did you know when I was coming in?” Trey asked.
The fellow veteran grinned.
“Right. So, what’s so important you had to come and get me? Something come up?”
“In a matter of speaking. Vincent Sheldon’s been arrested.”
“I saw. Unpaid parking tickets, of all things. Bastard’s already out on bail—no idea why they even bothered to arrest him.” Trey jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Read it on the financial pages after I went to Sheldon Construction to see Ally.”
“She wasn’t there.”
“No shit.” Trey frowned. “What the hell happened? And why didn’t anyone call me?”
“It’s complicated.” Dylan grinned. “Mac’s got a knack for that. I’ll explain as we drive.”
It took a concentrated effort to follow him through the terminal to the truck waiting in the parking lot.
“First, how was the visit with Nick’s parents?” Dylan said as he put the luggage in the back of the truck. “You look…” He tilted his head to one side, studying Trey. “I hate to sound all sorts of psychological, but you look settled. Content.”
“Yeah. Getting a bit of that peace in my soul.” Trey said, climbing in the passenger side. “Spent some quality time with them. They didn’t want to know about Vincent, too worried about me and how I was doing. It was sort of odd.”
The Brotherhood leader drummed his fingers on the steering wheel. “Always hard to guess how parents are going to react when they have to deal with something like that.”
Trey flinched inside, remembering Dylan’s own experiences in that area. The healing was still fresh on that invisible wound, and he didn’t want to rip it open again.
“It wasn’t the type of justice I wanted to give Nick’s parents, but turns out it was what they wanted.”
“Great.” He turned the engine over. “I’m glad to hear the visit went well. It’s always hard to relive the past, but sometimes you need to go backward to go forward.”
“Yeah.” Trey cleared his throat. “Right. Back to Sheldon. What did I miss?”
Dylan maneuvered the truck onto the local highway. “A few hours after you broke Vincent’s nose and left town, Jessie got a phone call from Ally, asking if she had any law enforcement connections.”
“What?”
He stepped on the gas, merging easily with the rush hour crowd. “Seems she wanted to talk to someone about having Vincent charged with Nick’s death.”
“And you didn’t call me?”
Dylan glanced at him. “Why would I?” He returned his attention to the road. “First, she told Jessie not to tell you. Got to respect the woman’s wishes.”
“But Jessie told you.”
“Of course, she did, right after she got off the phone with Ally. She needed my permission to pull strings—wasn’t going to yank on anything without making sure I knew about it. Second, I wasn’t going to call you up and have you excited about something that might or might not happen. At that point, I was still throwing stuff at Mac, asking him to make magic. Anyway, she told Ally she’d work on it and came to me.”
“But she…” His voice trailed off as he spotted a man standing near Patrick, helping the mechanic out.
Edgar.
The man looked at Trey as they exited the truck, lifting a wrench in salute.
“We also hired a new employee,” Dylan explain. “And a member of the Brotherhood.”
“Did I shift to an alternate dimension on the way home?” Trey mused out loud. He walked over to where the men stood, and eyed Edgar. “What happened?”
He shrugged. “Had enough of Vincent.”
“You quit?” Trey couldn’t keep the shock and surprise out of his voice.
“Yeah.” Edgar scuffed his feet on the cement floor. “I’ve always been on the edge with that jerk, but I kept hoping he’d change, that there was a decent guy under all the mud. When he came here to taunt you, to belittle your loss…the confession.” He let out a grunt. “That was the final straw.” He looked over at Dylan. “Liked what I saw here. Came over and talked. Seems we had a lot in common.”
“But…” Trey again found himself at a loss for words. “Here?”
Dylan eyed him. “We can always use another set of hands. Edgar gave us excellent references, and all of them checked out.”
“Also put my bit in when it came to Mac.” Edgar shook his head. “I signed an NDA with Sheldon Construction, but it’s one thing to stay quiet about him stiffing bartenders on the tab or stealing a bottle of booze while on the plane, another to keep mum about running someone down. Gave a sworn affidavit about the recording you made.”
“Thanks,” Trey said. “Not sure if it’ll make a difference, but I appreciate you stepping up.”
“Should have done something sooner. I consider it only part of what I owe. Which is why I’m here.”
Dylan broke in. “He’s taking shifts on the dance floor—filled in a few for you while you were gone.” A mischievous grin appeared. “Already got clocked by Ace in the boxing ring.”
The former British Marine rubbed his jaw. “Lucky shot. I’m ready for a rematch.”
“Ally…”
“She’ll be fine.” Edgar smiled. “She’s upstairs, waiting for you.”
“What?” He blinked.
“Damn it,” Dylan said. “I was hoping to surprise you. She came in last night, early flight. We thought you’d be coming in straight from Pittsburgh—your side trip put the surprise out of whack. Showed up bright and early this morning and has been waiting for you ever since.” He jerked his thumb at the door. “Get going.”