Sinful Debts (San Diego Mafia Kings MC Book 1) by R.A. Black & Sable Phillips

Author:R.A. Black & Sable Phillips [Black, R.A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-05-11T16:00:00+00:00

12

Jill

Even though Roger tried to tell me I was fine without them, I still put my clothes back on before settling onto the couch with him again. We sat there the rest of the afternoon, trading family stories that had happened over the past ten years. I talked about my plans for the store and how my dad seemed to be losing his passion for the business. I talked about my worries for Annette’s future, how no one really seemed to know what she was planning to do, her included. I thought about asking if he had the same worries over Myles, but I figured our older-sibling experiences probably weren’t really comparable.

He mentioned being worried about both his brothers in different ways: Myles because he was so desperate for approval and depressed when he couldn’t get it; Royce because he’d so suddenly and doggedly started working for their dad again without any indication of why. At least he had the option of talking to them. I was starting to realize that I had taken things like that, like the ability to call my sister up and ask how she was doing, for granted. Once I was out of this mess, I wouldn’t make that mistake again.

“Hey.” He stopped at one point and squinted at the TV, then reached for the remote to turn it up. The news was on again—was it five o’clock already?—and there was Brooke, professional as ever, with her name printed at the bottom of the screen. The graphic in the corner still featured the #MorettiMob hashtag, so I figured she was the one reporting it at her station, exclusively.

“What’s wrong?” I asked, glancing at Roger, who was still staring suspiciously at the TV. “Oh. This whole story must be bothering you. Have you been—”

“No, it’s that woman,” he said without taking his eyes off her. “That’s Brooke Rodham?”

“Yeah. Do you know her?”

After another few seconds of watching and listening, he sat back against the couch. “She didn’t sound like that on the phone.”

“What? When did you talk to her on the phone?” Had he contacted her on purpose? Trying to suppress the story, maybe?

“She called me this morning,” he explained. “I don’t know how she got my cell number, but she did. She was all broken up and worried about you, told me she was a friend of yours and asked if you were okay. Is she your friend?”

“Yes! She wasn’t making it up or anything.” I wanted to laugh, but something about this little revelation was leaving a bad taste in my mouth. “We’ve known each other for a few years, actually, so of course she was worried about me. She probably used her networking connections to find out your number.”

“Right.” If my reassurance was making him feel any more confident in her sincerity, he didn’t show it. “A fucking reporter. Of course. That’s why she asked a million questions in a minute.”

“Oh, yeah, she’s like that. I don’t think she even realizes that she

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