Page 66 of Sin for You

“Hey, maaaan.”

Shit. He was drunk. “Where’re you, Mase?”

“At home.” There was a long pause. “It’s so quiet here, Bull.”

I felt the knot in my gut tighten, pain for my friend making it unbearable. “You seen her?”

“Nah, Janie’s not interested in talking, not anymore.” The sound of heavy breathing came through, like he was fighting not to fucking cry. “We’re done. I fucked up.”

I felt sick. Mase had been in pain and I’d been too busy obsessing over his sister to be there for him. “It’s not your fault—”

“Yeah, it was. I was never here. She said she had a closer relationship with the pizza delivery guy, and she’s right. She needed me, she needed me, Bull, and I wasn’t there for her.”

“The job, being a cop, it—”

“Screw the job. She was more important, and I put her second. I always put her second.”

Hell. What could I say to that? “Maybe after some time? Give her some space and then try talking to her. But not like this, not wasted.”

“No amount of time will make a difference.”

“You need to put down the bottle, brother. Clear your head.”

He laughed, the sound bitter. “You can talk, asshole.”

Yeah, I deserved that. I reached for the bottle far too often when shit went wrong. “Yeah, I know.”

“And, fuck, man, I thought you were gonna look out for Quinn.”

I stilled, the sudden change of subject throwing me. “I have. I am.”

“Well, who the hell’s this asshole she’s sleeping with? You promised you’d look after her, and I find out she’s screwing some random guy? That it’s casual. She shouldn’t be with anyone right now. She’s still getting over her breakup with that fucker Bevan,” he growled.

“She’s twenty-six years old. I think she knows—”

“Casual means this prick is just using her,” he said, talking right over me. “And I swear to God, Bull, if she’s seeing one of your ex-con buddies or some other loser that hangs around your fucking bar…fuck.”

He was drunk. He didn’t mean it. “Mase, you need to—”

“I don’t want your prison friends near her.”

Does that include me? My friends weren’t the only ones who had a prison record. But the few I had stayed in contact with weren’t people who’d hurt her. Did he truly think I’d get close to people who could hurt my family or friends? Did he really think that little of me?

There was a sloshing sound—Mase taking another drink, and by the sounds of it straight from the bottle. “Sleep it off,” I said.

“Fuck you,” he said and hung up.

Awesome.

I walked to the fridge and grabbed a beer, returned to the living room, and planted my ass in my chair.

I felt torn in two, fuck, sick to my stomach.

Mase was right, though, wasn’t he?

Touching Quinn? What the hell had I been thinking? Tainting that lovely girl with my black past and betraying my friend. What kind of man did that make me?

I opened my phone, heart in my throat, and typed a message to Quinn.