Lion's Tail (The Pride Book 2) by Jordan L. Hawk

Author:Jordan L. Hawk [Hawk, Jordan L.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-08-09T00:00:00+00:00

Sam wasn’t giving up so easily.

Alistair might be able to forget about Bobby, or at least to write off his death as an inevitable tragedy, but Sam couldn’t. Every time he closed his eyes to sleep, he felt the weight of the dying body in his arms, dragging him down, saw the pleading in Bobby’s eyes. Heard the terror in his voice as he gasped out, “You got to help me!”

Since he had the day off, he took the opportunity to sleep in with Alistair, then make them breakfast. Alistair offered to help, but since he couldn’t boil water without burning it, Sam distracted him with a request to bring in the paper.

“You made the news,” Alistair said, when Sam brought out their plates and sat down across from him at the table. He turned the paper around so Sam could read the front page headline: Three Killed in Beer War Shoot-Out.

His pulse sped up. “That’s not good, is it? Will the police shut down the brewery, or…I don’t know, start arresting us?”

“I doubt it.” Alistair went back to perusing the headlines. “Even if they weren’t paid off, it’s hard to make a case when no one will admit to seeing anything, or setting foot near the brewery, or ever laying eyes on a gun. The most they might do is drag in one of Sullivan’s tough guys and rough him up a bit until the lawyer gets there. But this was gangsters shooting other gangsters, out of sight of the public, so chances are nothing will happen at all.”

“I see.” Sam poked at his eggs, his appetite gone.

Alistair lowered the paper and looked at him. “What’s wrong?”

Sam wasn’t sure how to explain it. “I don’t know…I guess at one time I thought there was…I’m not sure. Justice? Or that the laws meant something, or…” He trailed off helplessly.

Alistair’s thin mouth softened. “I grew up reading stories about the Hexas Rangers, or the Witch Police, or brilliant private detectives who always got their man. Hell, I still like a good mystery—there’s this new writer, Agatha Christie, in particular. But the real world isn’t that simple, because it’s made up of real people. And real people are messy. No one’s all good or all bad.”

“I know. And it isn’t like I want the police to raid The Pride…” Sam shook his head ruefully. “Crime is paying my salary.”

“And a very nice salary it is.” Alistair reached across the table and took his hand, running one elegant thumb over his knuckles. “Most of us are just getting by the best we can—you, me, the coppers, the moonshiners, everyone. Look at it this way—those rich assholes in Congress, who knew they’d never have to worry about getting a drink whenever they wanted one, passed a stupid act that shut down legitimate businesses. But it opened up new, less legitimate opportunities. Of course people are going to take those opportunities, try to better their lives any way they can. You included.”

“I suppose.”

“Maybe the party at Sullivan’s will cheer you up.

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