men in and out of her life, but no one serious. I couldn't see her just taking off with a guy. Not by choice anyway."
He nodded, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead in an offhand way that made my belly flip flop with the casual intimacy of it all. "Why are you working the Third Street angle?"
My hands went up, squeezing his sides and pushing until he let me go. I moved out into the living room, clicking the hidden latch inside the fireplace that unlocked the picture beside it and pulled it open to reveal the safe.
"Ain't looking," he said as I turned to check, his words of caution definitely making me more cautious about my codes.
I punched in the code and pulled the safe open, reaching inside and pulling out the small jewel-encrusted jewelry box that belonged to my sister, and holding it out toward Paine.
His brows drew together as he took it, pulling off the top. His breath hissed out of his mouth as he grabbed one of the small baggies and pulled it out. There were at least a dozen of them inside, clear zip-lock drug bags with a large blue three printed on the front and a fluffy brownish powder inside it. "She was using heroin," he surmised, putting the baggie back, but not handing it back to me.
"Seems the most likely explanation. Why else would she have drugs hidden in her bedroom? It also explains her weird behavior for the weeks before she went missing. I've never really known anyone on drugs; I didn't know what to look for, so I didn't see it."
"It happens," he shrugged. "Can't beat yourself up about it. So you thought... what? She cashed in her trust to buy more drugs?"
"Maybe."
"Babygirl, H is cheap. I don't know, and don't need to know, what was in her trust, but no way did she need to cash it all out to fund her drug habit."
"Maybe she got herself... involved with one of the guys in the gang. Maybe he got her trust, conned her into giving him the money? I mean... why all of a sudden can a measly street gang afford a huge warehouse like the one on Kennedy?"
"Got a point," he said. When I reached for the jewelry box, he shook his head and pulled it back. "I have to get rid of this, Elsie. You can't keep drugs in your house. Or evidence like the baggies even if you flushed the H."
Well, that was true enough. I felt uncomfortable having it in my house, even locked up in the safe. "Okay."
"Are you worried your sister is dead?" he asked bluntly, making me start.
I reached up and ran a hand through my hair. "I don't know. Maybe. I guess I'm kind of hoping she's just holed up with some gang banger, too in love or too high, or both, to care about her old life."
"It's possible," he said in a guarded voice.
"But not likely," I said, interpreting his tone.
"Not likely. So you want answers."
"Yes."
Paine looked away for a long minute, staring out my front window before he turned back. "I can get you answers."
"How?" I asked, thinking he was going to start bashing heads together until he got them.
"Babygirl, I used to run the Third Street gang," he admitted in an empty voice. And damn if it was the absolute last thing I had expected him to say. I would have been more accepting of him telling me he was an alien from Mars who spent his free time training poodles to dance while he dressed in women's clothing.
"I'm sorry... what?"
"That gang... I ran it for years. And the man who is in charge now? He's my brother."
"Brother?" I repeated dumbly. "You said you had sisters," I said, knowing my face was a mask of confusion.
"I do. And we're tight. I also have a half brother. Same father, different mother. His name is Enzo and he is in charge of Third street and the drugs and the whores."
I flinched inwardly at that word, but was too preoccupied trying to reconcile the image of Paine, the drug and whore lord, and the Paine I thought I was beginning to get to know, the one who saved a girl off the street and asked for nothing in return, who loved his sisters, who kissed like no one I had ever come across before,
He nodded, pressing a quick kiss to my forehead in an offhand way that made my belly flip flop with the casual intimacy of it all. "Why are you working the Third Street angle?"
My hands went up, squeezing his sides and pushing until he let me go. I moved out into the living room, clicking the hidden latch inside the fireplace that unlocked the picture beside it and pulled it open to reveal the safe.
"Ain't looking," he said as I turned to check, his words of caution definitely making me more cautious about my codes.
I punched in the code and pulled the safe open, reaching inside and pulling out the small jewel-encrusted jewelry box that belonged to my sister, and holding it out toward Paine.
His brows drew together as he took it, pulling off the top. His breath hissed out of his mouth as he grabbed one of the small baggies and pulled it out. There were at least a dozen of them inside, clear zip-lock drug bags with a large blue three printed on the front and a fluffy brownish powder inside it. "She was using heroin," he surmised, putting the baggie back, but not handing it back to me.
"Seems the most likely explanation. Why else would she have drugs hidden in her bedroom? It also explains her weird behavior for the weeks before she went missing. I've never really known anyone on drugs; I didn't know what to look for, so I didn't see it."
"It happens," he shrugged. "Can't beat yourself up about it. So you thought... what? She cashed in her trust to buy more drugs?"
"Maybe."
"Babygirl, H is cheap. I don't know, and don't need to know, what was in her trust, but no way did she need to cash it all out to fund her drug habit."
"Maybe she got herself... involved with one of the guys in the gang. Maybe he got her trust, conned her into giving him the money? I mean... why all of a sudden can a measly street gang afford a huge warehouse like the one on Kennedy?"
"Got a point," he said. When I reached for the jewelry box, he shook his head and pulled it back. "I have to get rid of this, Elsie. You can't keep drugs in your house. Or evidence like the baggies even if you flushed the H."
Well, that was true enough. I felt uncomfortable having it in my house, even locked up in the safe. "Okay."
"Are you worried your sister is dead?" he asked bluntly, making me start.
I reached up and ran a hand through my hair. "I don't know. Maybe. I guess I'm kind of hoping she's just holed up with some gang banger, too in love or too high, or both, to care about her old life."
"It's possible," he said in a guarded voice.
"But not likely," I said, interpreting his tone.
"Not likely. So you want answers."
"Yes."
Paine looked away for a long minute, staring out my front window before he turned back. "I can get you answers."
"How?" I asked, thinking he was going to start bashing heads together until he got them.
"Babygirl, I used to run the Third Street gang," he admitted in an empty voice. And damn if it was the absolute last thing I had expected him to say. I would have been more accepting of him telling me he was an alien from Mars who spent his free time training poodles to dance while he dressed in women's clothing.
"I'm sorry... what?"
"That gang... I ran it for years. And the man who is in charge now? He's my brother."
"Brother?" I repeated dumbly. "You said you had sisters," I said, knowing my face was a mask of confusion.
"I do. And we're tight. I also have a half brother. Same father, different mother. His name is Enzo and he is in charge of Third street and the drugs and the whores."
I flinched inwardly at that word, but was too preoccupied trying to reconcile the image of Paine, the drug and whore lord, and the Paine I thought I was beginning to get to know, the one who saved a girl off the street and asked for nothing in return, who loved his sisters, who kissed like no one I had ever come across before,
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