Lost for You (Lost 2) - Page 2/53

“Dude, we don’t even know if you could’ve stopped him. We don’t even know how he got in.” He can’t take the blame for this. This is all on me.

“I’ve been watching her like a hawk for you. You know that.”

“I’m just glad you’re there now. I’m coming back. I’ll rent a car and drive through the night. I don’t f**king care. Whatever it takes. I need to see her. I’ll text you when I’m close. Tell her I’m coming,” I say desperately.

“I will. Just drive carefully, man. She needs you alive and in one piece,” he says before hanging up.

I look around, checking that Gibbons hasn’t sent one of the guys to come find me yet. I don’t know who I can trust anymore. Definitely not Gibbons, that’s for sure. I consider my options and decide to call the one other person I know who will help me, even though I haven’t seen or spoken to him in eight years.

“Yo, it’s the middle of the night. This better be good,” he answers groggily.

“Devon, its Brax. I need your help.”

Middle of the night and my f**king phone starts ringing, so I reach over Melissa to grab it. No, Megan. Dammit, what was her name again…Mary?

“Yo, this better be good,” I answer.

“Devon, its Brax. I need your help.”

Straight away I’m on edge. “I’m sorry. Did you say Brax?

“Yeah, it’s me,” he replies, sounding defeated.

“My brother? The one who vanished into thin air? Tell me why I shouldn’t hang up in your f**king ear right now,” I say angrily.

“Because I’m your brother and I need your help. I’m out of options,” he says, deadpan.

“Fuck, Brax, you gonna pull that card? Where were you when I needed you? When Dad roped me into doing his dirty work? Oh, that’s right. Off playing soldiers. You left me high and f**king dry, brother,” I spit out.

“Yeah, I know, and I’ve regretted that ever since. I had to get out of Atlanta, you know that,” he says, his voice full of regret. “Otherwise he would’ve pulled me in too.”

“Of course, it’s all about you. I forgot.”

“C’mon, man. Don’t be like that. Are you still in Charlotte?” he asks.

“Where else would I be? Daddy dearest has left me alone since I’ve been up here and that’s how I want it to stay. You heard from him?”

Brax and I share the same father, but Brax’s mom wised up to the old man’s tricks and moved away. I had to suffer through fifteen years with the sad excuse for a man known as Michael Evans before he left my mother and moved to New York.

I last heard from him five years ago. He wanted to see me again, reestablish our relationship or some shit. What he really wanted was for me to do some of his illegal dirty work; to take some heat off him. Where did that land me? Three years in jail for money laundering and grievous bodily harm. I got let out for good behavior nine months ago, and was met at the prison gates by my supposedly model citizen father who had the balls to pat me on the back and say he was proud of me. What the f**k? Thankfully my parole is finished, so I’m not tied down here anymore.

That sperm donor of mine was the reason I was behind bars, and I will hate him until my dying days. Brax was lucky; he got off lightly. He joined the Army at seventeen just as Evans started putting pressure on him to join him on the dark side. Probably got the same speech about family sticking together. Blood being thicker than water and all that shit.

“Long story short. I’ve seen him, and got beat up for crossing him. Just everyday stuff for him,” he tells me.

“So he hasn’t changed much then,” I say laughing. When you have a corrupt ex-FBI Agent as a father, sometimes the only thing you can do is laugh.

“Nope, but I need your help, brother. I need a car to drive back up north ASAP. My girlfriend was shot tonight, and I need to get to her.”

“Dude, really? This is all for a skirt?” I ask, surprised. Brax has never been one to chase a girl.

“She’s not just another skirt. She is my life,” he says angrily.

“Holy shit, bro. You finally fell for someone.” I’m shocked that the other slut of the family found a keeper.

“Hey, man, enough of that shit. So can you help or what?” I can tell he’s on edge. He is completely serious about this.

“Yeah, okay. What do you need me to do?” I ask, still racking my brain as to why he’s calling me for help.

“I need a car.”

“Where’s the Mustang?” I ask, knowing Brax used to have the dopest blue Mustang I’d ever seen.

“It’s up north. Not much help to me now, is it?” he says with a sigh.

“Ok. Can you get to Charlotte?” I ask, crossing my fingers he doesn’t expect me to drive to Atlanta to pick his ass up.

“Yeah, I’ll hitch a ride. There are enough truckers around that I should be good.”

“When you get up here, give me a call. I’ll come get you,” I say, wondering how they hell I’ll get my truck back from him if he takes it back to New York.

“Yeah. I really owe you for this,” he adds before hanging up.

“Fucking oath you owe me, Brax,” I say under my breath as I hang up. God damn Brax James! What the hell just happened? And what the hell did I just get involved in?

“Baby? Who was that?” I hear from beside me. Fuck! I really need to start remembering their names.

“None of your f**king business. Get out of my bed!” I say to Mandy. Michelle? God knows. I don’t really care anymore.

“Fucking ass**le! You may have a big dick but that’s all you’ve got!” she yells at me as she strips the sheet off and walks naked as the day she was born into my bathroom.

Damn, she has a nice ass. Wish I could remember her name; she could have been a repeat caller.

I text Shay as soon as I get off the phone with Devon.

Brax: I called Devon, just gotta get to Charlotte and I’ll have a car.

Shay: Roger that. Elle in ER getting prepped for surgery. Perforating gunshot wound to left side. Managed to control blood loss by getting pressure on it. Will let you know more when I know more.

Brax: Shit! Why did I f**king listen to him? Should never have left her side.

Shay: Just get here, B. She needs you now.

Brax: On it. Going to hitch to Charlotte. Text you when I have a car. Tell her I love her and I’m coming.

Shay: Already done, dude.