He drummed his fingers lightly on the table, listening to me but seemingly miles away in his thoughts. “So the end justifies the means, then?”
I leant forward and met his gaze. “Yes,” I said softly, “sometimes it does.”
He listened and he processed, but in the end he said, “We’re going to have to agree to disagree on that one.”
I smiled. “That’s the beauty of friendship, right?”
“I guess it is.”
It always had been that way for our friendship. We’d often argued over cases and the rights and wrongs of the world. And we’d always been able to forget all that shit when it came to our friendship. “Thank you for being a good friend.”
He lifted a brow. “You call me not giving you hell for dating a biker, a good friend?”
How would I ever convince him of the truth? “He doesn’t beat me. I can’t get into it all, but what you saw on that footage wasn’t even close to what you think.”
“I believe you.” When I gave him a confused look, he elaborated. “I looked into it more and found out about the murder at the casino that night. I put shit together, Tatum, and figured he must have been involved in it. And for you to have anything to do with him after that, I figure that dead biker deserved everything he got. Still doesn’t make me happy that you’ve chosen to get involved with Storm.”
I was stunned by what he said. “You’re turning a blind eye?”
He drank some of his water. “I’m not a cop. I don’t have a case on my desk to prosecute and as far as I know, the DPP aren’t looking into it either. There’s nothing to turn a blind eye to as far as I’m concerned.”
I reached across the table and placed my hand on his arm. “And you don’t believe the end justifies the means,” I murmured.
“I believe in your happiness, Tatum. I don’t want to see you hurting anymore, and if this is what makes you happy, I’ll put my shit aside.” His eyes bored into mine. “Tell me you’re happy and I’ll not say another word about you choosing a biker.”
I took a deep breath. “I’m happy.”
He flinched a little at my answer, and I realised that while Duvall said he wanted me to be happy, he didn’t necessarily want Nitro to be the one to give me that. However, he gave me a tight smile and said, “Good.”
I loved him for that. If you couldn’t allow your friends to be happy in the way they chose, you couldn’t call yourself a friend.
* * *
On my way home from work that afternoon, Billy called in a pissed-off mood. “I swear I’m going to close this damn club down, Tatum. It’s a never-fucking-ending headache of staff fucking up and quitting on me.”
I laughed as I steered the car around a corner. “You threaten this on a daily basis, Billy. I think it’s time for an intervention. Maybe some Xanax mixed with some vodka and we could throw in some other shit too if you need it.”
He wasn’t amused. He never was, but I put up with him regardless of the fact he had no sense of humour. “This isn’t helping.”
“Okay, tell me what you need. I’ll make it happen.”
“I need a fucking new cleaner. And I need them tonight.” He said it like he doubted my ability to produce the goods.
I smiled. “Done.”
He took a moment to reply. “Why do you sound so fucking joyful today?”
“Because I am. Now, hang up so I can go get your cleaner.”
He grumbled some more shit before finally ending the call. I pulled the car over so I could access the files I stored in my Dropbox on my phone. Dustin’s résumé was stored in there and it had his phone number in it. Once I’d located what I needed, I dialled him.
“Hello?” He didn’t know my number and sounded hesitant.
“Dustin, it’s Tatum. I have a job for you.”
“Huh?”
“A cleaning job. Do you still need a job?”
“Oh… yes, I do!” Excitement filled my ears.
“Are you free tonight? Because they need you right away.”
“Yes!” Dustin’s easy nature had to be his best trait.
I gave him all the information and called the club to talk with the woman who he’d work with that night, organising with her to hold his hand a little. As I drove home with the intent to relax in the bath for hours, I thought about how happy and grateful Dustin was for the opportunity I’d just found him. That was what made my job worth doing.
33
Nitro
“One Night Girl” by Blake Shelton
I banged on Tatum’s door, irritated as fuck at her. She took her sweet time answering me and it only gave that irritation time to grow.
Swinging the door open, she said, “Jesus, Nitro, why all the banging?”
I clenched my jaw. “You got Dustin a job with Billy?”
“Yes.”
“Why the fuck would you do that?”
She gripped the door as if she was about to slam it in my face. “If you’re going to come here and yell at me without giving me a chance to explain myself, you can leave right now and come back when you’ve calmed down.”
Fuck.
I shoved my fingers through my hair. I needed to rein this anger in, but fuck if I could. Billy being in the mix made sure of that. Taking a step inside, I said, “I’m not leaving. We’re discussing this.” Before she had a chance to argue, I entered her house and made my way to her living room.
She closed the door, loudly. When she met me in the living room, she demanded, “Right, seems as though you’ve decided you’re staying, tell me what you have against Billy.”
Fuck, just his name caused my anger to spike. “Marilyn works for a bank and Billy was a customer there. Had been for a couple of years and over that time he slowly gained her trust and eventually asked her out on a date. She said no, repeatedly, until the day he finally broke her down and got the answer he wanted. They started dating and it made her happier than ever. She smiled and laughed more often and started living her life in a way I’d never seen. It lasted for six months until the night I received a call from Renee to tell me her mother had taken a bottle of pills and was unconscious on the bathroom floor.”