"We've other things to discuss," she told me.

"David left a mess so let's discuss them. I have a great deal to do," I replied.

"I've set up four labs," she announced. "As of two weeks ago, they're all fully functional. We'll have product by the end of next week."

I stopped with my fork halfway to my mouth and stared at her.

"Sorry?" I whispered.

"Four labs," she repeated. "It's taken time and some resources. But the people I have dealing with it know what they're doing, they source good s.h.i.+t and they cook good s.h.i.+t. Your boys will have product, and a lot of it, by the end of next week. They need to get their s.h.i.+t together to unload it because it's gonna keep coming."

"Product?" I asked.

"Ice and E," she stated casually, and equally casually shoved food in her mouth.

I looked side to side before I leaned her way and hissed, "Georgie!"

I did this for a variety of reasons, including the fact I was just hearing this now and she was calmly discussing cooking meth and ecstasy at f.u.c.king Rioja!

"I told you I had a plan," she replied.

"Does Dad know of your plan?"

She said nothing.

Oh G.o.d.

"One," I began to count down all the things wrong with her going forward with this to the point of production. "Valenzuela hears we've got labs, we're at war."

"We have territory we've kept. We'll work that careful not to infringe. If we can keep it from him and are smart in selling for long enough, when it's time to expand, we'll have soldiers to fight or he'll be smart enough to let go some turf. And anyway, we're producing and I'm a.s.sured what's cooked is very good. He might find it in his interests to start buying from us."

She was insane.

Benito Valenzuela did not have partners. He didn't make deals. If there was something he wanted or something was happening he did not like, he performed hostile takeovers, the hostile part defined as hostile because it was underlined in blood.

I didn't argue that. She knew that, this being why she was insane.

Instead, I stated, "Two, when Dad finds out, he's going to lose his mind."

She shook her head. "He'll come around."

"You know what he finds acceptable," I reminded her. "And those two products in our menu are not that."

"It isn't the eighties anymore, Liv," she told me exasperatedly, like it was me making the rules when it was not, never was and it never would be. "He has to swing with the times. We can't get our hands on c.o.ke or H because Valenzuela has it tied up. I had to get creative. Furthermore, it's ridiculous Dad thinks cocaine and heroin are elite drugs and Shade only deals in elite. There are no elite drugs. Drugs are drugs. Drugs are money. And we need money."

I glanced again side to side before I retorted, "I know it isn't the eighties, Georgie, but this is Dad and he thinks he's king. You don't move forward on something like this without discussing it with him. On that alone he's going to lose his mind."

She dropped her fork and leaned toward me. "We don't do something, we lose hold. All hold. Soldiers. What little territory we have left, and you know there isn't much. We gotta rebuild. We had to do that five years ago, seven, ten, before you or I even took our offices at the warehouse. So it's safe to say that right now, the time is so ripe to do it, it's rotting off the G.o.dd.a.m.ned vine and I'm not gonna rot with it."

At her vehemence, and frankly, the veracity of her statements, I shut my mouth.

"I know he's not going to take it well, that's why I didn't talk to him about it in the first place," she carried on. "But he has no choice. It took me years to sort out all the s.h.i.+t I needed to sort out under the nose of Valenzuela and Seth Townsend's boys still sniffing around, keeping tabs. Not to mention that f.u.c.king motorcycle club, the Nightingale men, Delgado's commandos, those two f.u.c.king Sebring brothers and every other player who keeps tabs on the Denver streets."

"It's impressive, Georgie," I told her the truth, but keeping my face perfectly impa.s.sive, especially after her mention of Nick and Knight.

Her annoyed, frustrated eyes warmed.

"And the boys will be relieved," I went on.

She nodded, again picking up her fork. "They will. Dad will too, he gets over it and gets with the program. It'll help, you sussed out this thing with David, taking care of the family. We get the legitimate side producing again, rebuild our stronghold in the turf we've got left, start pus.h.i.+ng for more. Valenzuela has a soft spot for me. I've been b.u.t.tering him up for months." She grinned and finished, "Finally, for the House of Shade, I see good things."

She shoved pasta in her mouth and started chewing, still grinning.

I was not grinning.

I did not see good things.

I saw labs that were always in danger of being sniffed out by rivals or law enforcement and wondered what steps Georgie had taken to be certain those labs were not tied to anything Shade. Another conversation we would have, just not one at a public restaurant.

I also saw our boys who would soon have product on the street and this would not go unnoticed, not by anyone. Those "anyones" would wonder where we got it and our boys obviously were more vulnerable with product in stock than they were when our cupboards were bare and I didn't feel we were in any place to keep them protected.

And Georgie could, at times, control our father and guide him. At other times, if he felt like not letting something go, he made things uncomfortable. And there were even other times when those things should be made uncomfortable for Georgie, but since she was his favorite and his heir, he transferred his displeasure to me.

The only thing I had to hold on to was that my sister wasn't dumb and she knew all of this. Even desperate, I didn't think she'd move forward stupid and she always did what she could to protect me.

So maybe it would work out.

She was right. Our legitimate dealings were much more successful than we knew, something now we would directly benefit from when we did not before because David was skimming a good deal off the top. And this also made laundering our other money easier.

So perhaps things were looking up.

I wanted to hold that hope. I wanted to believe, at least in that.

But I couldn't shake the idea that there was no end to the downward spiral of the House of Shade. I couldn't shake the feeling that the end of our world as we knew it was near. I couldn't shake the thought that end was not going to be a good one.

For any of us.

9:23 That Evening Nick rolled off me, rolling me with him.

I tried to turn the other way to start preparations for making my escape but he held tight.

I put pressure on his hold, saying, "I need to go home, Sebring. I have to work this weekend."

"You're distracted."

I stopped pus.h.i.+ng, tipped my head back and saw his eyes on me, doing all this feeling more alarm than I should (which was to say, any at all), that he hadn't enjoyed what we'd just done because he thought I was distracted.

"No, I'm not," I denied.

He gave me a small grin but did it with an unusual look in his eyes. "Okay, let me rephrase. That was hot. I dug that. But it took work to get you there and it doesn't normally take that kind of work or any work because you're always all in from the start."

Okay, so it was good. He enjoyed it.

There being nothing to worry about, I started putting pressure on his hold again, murmuring, "I'm just busy."

His hold went strangely solid even as he let me go with one arm to put his hand at my jaw and force my attention back to him.

"Just yes, no or kind of," he said in a tone of voice that made me brace. "You okay?"

That was when I understood his grin that was small and the look in his eyes.

He was worried about me.

I stayed braced, this time against how nice it felt for my heart to trip over itself at the thought anyone could worry about me.

Especially Nick.

"Yes," I answered. "I'm fine."

"Okay, Shade," he muttered, his hand gliding back, his fingers sifting into my hair. "But just to say, that could be a 'no' or 'kind of' and you don't have to lay it on me as to why. I still can help make it better by f.u.c.kin' you again. Or I could take you out so you can slam back as much melon c.r.a.p and vodka as you can stomach and you got my promise I'll get you home safe no matter how s.h.i.+tfaced you get. Or we can just zone out in front of my TV."

I fought the desperate desire I suddenly had to know what programs Nick "zoned out" in front of at the same time I felt the intensely pleasant feeling it caused that he offered me anything to make things better if I wasn't okay.

I succeeded in doing this and replied, "That's appreciated."

I felt his fingers curl in my hair as he slid them down and used the backs to stroke my neck through the tendrils.

And as he did this, his touch and the new look in his eye made me brace again.

"You got someone?" he asked quietly.

"I do believe we've had a discussion about exclus-" I started.

"Not someone to f.u.c.k," he cut me off. "I know you got that, him bein' me. Someone to work s.h.i.+t out with."

That didn't only make me brace; it made me tense from top to toe.

"Sebring-"

"You tight with your sister?"

"Of a sort," I felt it safe to answer.

He read my answer for what it was. "So you're not. Not for s.h.i.+t like that. Not for when you need someone."

I forced my body to relax on top of his when I shared carefully, "You know that can't be you."

"I get that," he returned instantly, now sounding disgruntled. "We know where we are. But you're not tight with your sister, not that way. You're not tight with your mom. I'm not askin' for it to be me. What I'm askin' is, is it someone for you?"

It wasn't someone for me.

In trying to come up with a reply, I knew I accidentally gave one when his eyes narrowed on me and he bit out, "f.u.c.k."

"I'm fine," I a.s.sured.

"Right," he stated shortly, his unhappy expression uncharacteristically unhidden. "I'll pretend 'cause we are what we are that doesn't mean d.i.c.k to me. Sayin' that, it sucks knowin' there isn't anyone you got for you."

My heart tripped again because that felt good too.

I had to put a stop to this.

"This is the part where it's important we remember the limits of what we have," I shared in a whisper to gentle my words but also to hide the pain his words caused because I liked them too much for safety.

"You look at me with that sweet, sad look in your eyes, Olivia, and you say those words to me..."

He shook his head and I thought, even hoped he was just going to let that hang.

But he kept talking.

"You f.u.c.k me like you can't get enough of me and you give me you like you want me to drown in your p.u.s.s.y and then you tell yourself you believe that it stops there. You do that, I got no choice but to give that to you. But I can get what we are to each other and still give a s.h.i.+t about you. And that's where I am right now, with that sweet, sad look in your eyes, lyin' on top of me after just havin' you. And that's where I was with you two days ago with your mom shovelin' s.h.i.+t you for some reason got no choice but to swallow. And even before, you tryin' to hide your scar from me."

Before I could break in to stop him, relentlessly he went on.

"And I'll let you think you're bulls.h.i.+tting me that I'm just c.o.c.k to you when you didn't hide your pain for me when you thought my dad was dead. You need that, I'll let you have it because you give me no choice."

"You telling me it's bulls.h.i.+t isn't exactly letting me have that, Sebring," I pointed out when I had the chance to wedge words in, but I got no more out.

"Oh yeah," he said like it was a continuation and I hadn't even spoken, "and I'll try to pretend you're stone-cold Olivia Shade two seconds after you've been a smarta.s.s."

Hesitantly, I shared, "I wasn't being a smarta.s.s. I was simply pointing out an incongruity in your statement."

He looked to the ceiling. "Christ, I'm tellin' her if she needs me, I'm there however she needs that to be, and she's spoutin' words at me like 'incongruity.'"

She needs me, I'm there...

I couldn't focus on that.

Instead, even more hesitantly, I began to ask, "Do you not get that word or-?"

His eyes cut to me and his arm around me squeezed hard with annoyance. "Yes, I get that word."

"Oh...kay." The first syllable came out in a wheeze because he hadn't yet loosened his hold.

He studied me.

Then he slid his arm up my back until his hand caught under my arm and he pulled me up his chest so we were eye to eye.