Page 92 of Always Love You More

“Get in the car; come on.”

“No, I’m not getting in until you tell me what’s going on.”

“I don’t have time for this,” Johnny says. “Get in the car.”

I stand my ground until he sighs.

“A job. We’re gonna be late for a job, okay?”

I look between them. “What job?”

“Get in the car,” Johnny presses.

“If I get in, will you tell me?”

“Fuck, fine.” He waves a hand. “Just get in. I need to drop you at home first.”

I slide into the passenger seat, shutting the door roughly as they both get in. “Well?”

“We’re hitting a safe,” Jameson answers simply.

“Like at a bank?” My gaze bounces between them. “You’re gonna rob a bank?”

“No,” Johnny clarifies. “It’s just a pawn shop.”

“Justa pawn shop?”

“It’s fine,” he says, starting the car.

“You using guns?”

“I said it’s fine,” he repeats in that tone he reserves for the times he takes on the role of a parent.

But fuck that.

“No.”

“Excuse me?” my brother shoots back, his tone growing more defensive.

“I said no. I don’t want you to go.”

He scoffs, and Jameson grits out his name in warning.

“Don’t start making me feel guilty for how I take care of this family.”

I shake my head. “I’m not.”

“You are.”

“I’m just—”

“You think this is what I want to do?” he interrupts. “You think this is the life I want?” He runs a hand across his mouth like he didn’t mean for those words to slip out, like maybe he can shove them back inside. His eyes flash to Jameson in the rearview mirror. “I didn’t …” He shakes his head. “Don’t …”

“I know, man,” Jameson mutters.

The car falls silent.

“I just don’t want anything to happen to you,” I finally whisper. “Either of you.”