I answer on the first ring. "Yeah?"

"This is a collect call from Corlie Penitentiary. Do you accept the charges?"

Saliva thickens in my throat, and I work to swallow. "Yes."

A crackle of static and then his deep voice fills the line. "So you finally put two and two together?"

"What?"

"The blonde you're running around with these days?" His tone changes, and I can picture the leering, disgusting expression crossing his features. I grip the phone tighter, hating that he somehow knows what Taylor looks like. Hating that he's thinking of her even more.

"I don't know what you're talking about." I bluff, the image of Taylor and her father hugging still fresh in my mind. My stomach sours as I realize my part in straining their relationship, even for a short while.

He chuckles, low and easy. The same way I do. "Come on now, man. You don't gotta be closed-lipped about it. From the reports I've been getting, she's a fine piece of ass. Great fucking rack. And rich, too. You did good with this one, yeah?"

I pull the phone away from my ear and rest my forehead against my wrist as I try to regulate my breathing. Hate and rage seethe just below the surface, and I have to work to regain control over my emotions. No one pushes my buttons like my father. And no one has to try so little to force a reaction from me. He knows it. I swear, he gets off on it.

"What do you want?"

“Didn’t expect your last job to be getting her daddy caught up with the Shadows, did you?”

I clench the phone tighter. He knew all along. Of course he did. He was just waiting for me to figure it out, to meet her father. And now that I have, he’s calling to try to pull me back into his web of lying and deceit and destruction.

“What do you want?” I repeat.

"The terms have changed." His tone changes, too, as business becomes the topic on the table. Gone is the ribbing and sly edge wrapping around his words. Now, he's crisp and calculating. Cold. He's the father I remember from my childhood, even though I desperately wanted the man with the easy grin and low chuckle to be my dad.

“What terms?”

“The terms Griller offered to Joe Clarke.”

I blow out a deep breath, not surprised in the least. That's how the Devil's Shadows operates. They do what's in their best interest always, previous agreements be damned. It's why I've been living on edge for the past decade. It's why my siblings can't ever know about my involvement in the MC or with my father. Because they would be pulled in, whether they want to be or not. And they'd rather not.

"Tell me.”

“Clarke’s gotta come up with the fifty grand he owes the MC in the next twenty-four hours or… well, I’m sure you can figure out the rest. These calls are monitored, you know, I can’t spell it all out, even for an uneducated kid like you.”

I choke on my own spit, dread dripping in my gut, causing a shiver to work up my spine. Here it comes, the ultimatum. My dad’s last card. I hold my breath, letting the pause between us hang, waiting for his words.

“You don’t want your girl, the one you’ve been chasing around, mooning over like some lovestruck schmuck, to be fatherless, do you?” He taunts, laughter curling around the edges of his words as I exhale through my nose, still waiting for the bomb to land in my lap.

“You could help her, Carter. Help her family. That’s the man you want to be now, isn’t it? The do-gooder? The family man? The respected member of society?”

I tap my forehead against the wall, my knuckles popping from my tight grasp on the phone. Just say it. Tell me what you want! I want to scream the words but instead, I wait. I keep my cool. Knowing my silence is irking the old man, is causing him to feel a shiver of doubt that he would never admit to, I stay quiet.

“Come back to the Shadows. Same role, same money. It’s easy for you, nothing new, nothing to learn, and a steady stream of cash. You save your girl’s father, you ease the financial burden your placing on your brothers and sister, you stop working all those hours cleaning up other people’s scraps and drinks. I’m giving you the opportunity to be a man again. All you have to do is take it. Meet Griller tomorrow. Go see the guys. Things could be good for you again.”

I bang my forehead against my bedroom wall. Red-hot blazing anger blurs my vision and causes my limbs to shake. I'm seething, practically consumed by an anger so overpowering, I can't think. My breathing spikes and then drops, small breaths piercing the air like gunshots. Be a man? Is he kidding me? Blaming me for the financial mess of the Kane household? In this moment, I’ve never hated my father more but still, I manage to bite back the words that are desperate to fling off the tip of my tongue.

I breathe. I count. I calm down.

“Go to hell, old man.”

I hang up.

And God, for a brief moment before the panic sets in, it feels really fucking good.

The color of the alexandrite gem shifts in the sunlight, shimmering. It's simple and elegant. It's perfect. Shaped in a tear-drop, I always imagined gifting it to my sister on her wedding day.

But if I can save Taylor’s father from the shit Griller will put him through, if I can save my family from becoming ensnared again in the grasp of the MC, then that’s a much better gift for Daisy’s future.

The pendant was given to my mother by her first boyfriend on her sixteenth birthday. They ran in the same privileged, Savannah high society circles when she was a girl. Back before her path crossed with my father's. Before she fell for him and took the first step in the eventual demise of her happiness. She married the wrong man.

After that, her family disowned her, she worked odd jobs, and had us kids. She loved us with an unrivaled ferocity, but she raised us on her own. She was a beautiful soul stuck in the mindless work of keeping house and caring for kids while my father went out and partied, whored around, and had a great fucking time.

He doesn't know about the gemstone. She may have been blinded by love at first but as the years went by, she began to see him for who he was. And she did everything she could to protect us. To salvage pieces of our futures that she knew he would destroy.

The memory comes to me, unbidden. I only saw her twice in my life. My grandmother. The first time, it was right when Mom became sick. Grandma came to our home, dressed in her Sunday best, her hair pulled back at the nape of her neck. She had gestured to Jax and me and pressed a five-dollar bill into each of our hands, but she didn’t try to hug and kiss us. I remember she smelled nice, like flowers and honey. She was at our home briefly, just long enough for Mom to offer her a cup of tea. But she pressed the gemstone, a deep purple-red into Mom’s hand, closing her own fingers around Mom’s fist and told her to hide it in case a day came when she needed it. Mom’s eyes had filled with tears, but no other words were spoken. I guess they didn’t need to be. The next time I saw her was at Mom’s funeral. She sat in the back and left as soon as the ceremony ended, but I remember inhaling sharply and holding the scent of flowers and honey in my chest. She passed two years after.

After Mom’s death, my brothers and I spent a weekend going through her things and packing up her clothes for a church charity drive. I found the pendant in a hidden compartment of her jewelry box. At the time, things were tight financially; Den was still wrapped up in the world of the Devil's Shadows, and I wanted the gemstone to be Daisy's. I was sure Jax would want to sell it, and Den would do something stupid with it, so I pocketed it. To save for my sister.

And now I'm going to use it to save myself from being pulled back into the world of the Devil’s Shadows. Guilt plagues me at the thought but I can’t keep doing shady things if I want to have a real future, a real shot at happiness. And even though it’s awful, I truly think Daisy would understand. At least, I hope she would.

"Hey." Her sweet voice smiles through the line.

"Hi." I relax slightly at the sound of her voice and sit on the edge of my bed, my fingers rolling over the glittering surface of the necklace.

"You okay?"

"I need your help."

"Okay."

"Can you take me to the best jeweler you know? Someone in Savannah?"

"Uh," she falters for a moment, "is there—"

"Please. It's important. And kind of time-sensitive."

"Yeah, okay. I can take you to Pierre."

"Cool. Can I come pick you up?"

"Now?" Surprise colors Taylor’s tone, but I don't have time to explain things. I need this Pierre dude to buy this pendant from me. And I need the money by tomorrow.

"Yep, be there in twenty." I push up off my bed and end the call. Dropping my phone into my back pocket, I swipe my keys and wallet off my dresser and twist a baseball cap on my head, pulling the brim low.