Read All That Matters Online

Authors: Shannon Flagg

All That Matters (27 page)

BOOK: All That Matters
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“I have no doubt that you're right about that. He sent me an email tonight, telling me that it's my fault. At least I know what he meant by that now.” Meg exhaled a shaky breath. “You've got some scratches. I should get the first aid kit.”

 

“I'm fine,” he protested. “There's no need to fuss.”

 

“You take care of me, Train. Let me take care of you. Please.” Meg couldn't have explained why it was so important to her if she tried so she was glad when he didn't put up a fight.

 

“You're going to be my nurse? Like a naughty nurse?” He grinned at her. “I think I could get into that. All we need is a nice little nurse's outfit for you. Fuck. I really need to buy one of those. Remind me to go online and do that.”

 

“Isn't the school girl one enough for you?” Meg still remembered how embarrassed she'd been when she put it on. It had taken all of her courage to come out of the bathroom wearing it. Train had gone wild. He'd actually needed to order another one because the first got good and ripped.

 

“Nope, I'll never get enough when it comes to you. And I mean that, you know that I do.” He stepped closer to her, cupped her face with his hands.

 

Meg shut her eyes and let him caress her face. His words, as always, soothed something deep inside of her that normally felt raw. “I love you so much. I don't know what I'd do without you.” Her voice shook again. Tears burned the back of her throat and eyes; she knew that she wasn't going to be able to hold them back.

 

He'd obviously realized it as well. “Don't do that. Please, don't do that.” Train reached out for her, pulled her close and held her tight enough that it was hard for Meg to breathe. “You don't have to worry about that. You don't have to worry about anything. I've got you. I'm right here.”

 

“I sent you a text today.” She rested her head against his chest. “I had to do training, and I needed you to pick up Leo.”

 

“I didn't get a text. My phone hasn't rang all day.” He let go of her and dug in his pocket. “What the fuck? It's dead. Wait, training? You got a job?”

 

“At The Corner Store, it's a convenience store place. It's just a cashier job, but it's something.” Meg told him as she watched him toss his phone onto the counter.

 

“The one by the gas station?” Train frowned. “Meg, that's a pretty shitty neighborhood.”

 

“Yeah, it's a shitty neighborhood but it's a job,” Meg replied defensively.

 

“A job isn't worth getting your head blown off during a robbery. I don't like it. Don't take it. Keep looking,” he told her as if it were really that simple.

 

“Train, I'm dead-ass broke. And it's been almost two months since I worked.” Meg didn't want to have this argument with him. “I'll make this work. If we get robbed, I'll hand over whatever they want. I'm not going to fight it. Besides, there's really thick safety glass around the counter.”

 

“You shouldn't be in that position in the first place. Keep looking,” he said more forcefully.

 

“Train, I need money. I need to work.”

 

“You tell me what you need, and I'll give it to you. You don't have to work in some shit hole where you're likely to get yourself shot in the face,” he snarled.

 

“I don't want to take your money.” Meg felt the start of a headache when Train released her and stepped back. “I don't want to argue with you.”

 

“Don't argue, then. Just take the fucking money.”

 

“It's not that simple,” Meg protested.

 

“It is that simple,” he corrected. “You let me take care of you and you look for a job where you're not likely to be killed at work. It's not hard.”

“It's not fair. You shouldn't have to...”

 

He obviously knew what she was going to say next, this was an old argument for them, so he cut her off. “Now, you're just pissing me the fuck off. I don't do anything that I don't want to do for you or those boys. How many times do I have to tell you that before you believe me?”

 

“I do believe you, I just... I'm not used to someone wanting to do anything for me, I guess.” Meg moved to lean back against the counter. “I'm trying, Train.”

 

“Maybe you should try harder,” he suggested; his anger and annoyance were obvious. “I can't do this right now, I'm going to take a shower and find a painkiller.”

 

“I'll bring the first aid kit up.”

 

“Don't bother. Just do whatever you were doing.” With that he walked out of the kitchen and up the stairs. She heard the door to the bedroom slam; hopefully it didn't wake Leo. Meg stood where she was for a long time, unsure of what she was supposed to do.

 

After some thought, Meg headed up the stairs to the bedroom. She grabbed her tablet and the throw that she'd been using as she heard the water shut off. Train came out of the bathroom, completely naked. She met his eyes and he looked away. “I'm going to bed,” he told. Meg knew that he was still pissed when he pulled a pair of pajama pants out of the drawer. He preferred to sleep naked.

 

“I'm not tired. I'm going to read some.” Meg cleared her throat. “And for what it's worth, I'm sorry that I pissed you off, Train.” She'd expected he would acknowledge her apology or the fact that she was leaving the bedroom, but he didn't.

 

“Good night.” He didn't elaborate, and she couldn't say anything else because tears now would likely just launch them into another fight. Instead she went downstairs curled up on the couch and never even picked up her tablet.

 

<#<#<#<#

 

“Meg?” She woke to Leo's voice and him pulling on her arm. “Wake up. You fell asleep on the couch.”

 

Meg blinked as she opened her eyes, looked around and realized he was right. She was on the couch. Her intention hadn't been to fall asleep, but apparently she had. She'd just wanted to give Train some time to cool off, and she'd been nearly sure that he'd come downstairs and get her. “Looks like I did, kiddo. What time is it?”

 

“It's just after seven. I made us toast for breakfast.” Leo moved away from the couch. “I put coffee on too, it should be done.”

 

“Thanks, Leo.” Meg's back screamed in protest as she got to her feet. The couch and position she'd passed out in hadn't been kind to her body. “Is Train up yet?”

 

“He was gone when I got up,” Leo called over his shoulder. “I think that they were fixing a roof today, a big job. I can't wait to start being able to go and help. When do you think that'll be?”

 

“I don't know, Leo. You'll have to ask him. Maybe tonight at dinner.” She folded the throw blanket and placed it on the back of the couch. “I'm going to grab a shower and then we can go, okay?” He nodded and she continued up the stairs.

 

The bedroom was neat; she hadn't expected anything else. Train wasn't much of a slob. He even made the bed in the morning, nicer than she ever did, with crisp corners on the sheets. He'd even done it this morning. Meg was at a loss as to what she could do to fix this She'd apologized the night before, she'd meant it, so when he hadn't accepted or acknowledged it, she'd turned away because what else was she supposed to do?

 

All she could do was get dressed to take Leo to school. By the time that she was done under the hot spray, she'd decided that she was going to call Ginger and not take the job. It was a bad neighborhood and one of the many stores in the area with bulletproof glass for the clerks to be behind.

 

Meg was brushing her hair when she heard the doorbell ring. She fumbled the brush because no one came to the house this early. Train had keys. If that was Josh at the door. Fuck. “LEO! Don't open the door!”

 

“It's okay, Meg. It's Monroe.” Leo took off the last lock and pulled the door open. “Hey, Monroe.”

 

“Hey, bud. What's going on? You ready for Santa or what?”

“It's not even Thanksgiving yet,” Leo giggled. “I made toast. You want some toast?”

“Sure, that sounds good.” Monroe stuck his hands in his pockets. “I saw Train had the truck, figured you could use a ride to school.”

 

“Really? Awesome. Oh, wait. Can I, Meg?”

 

“Of course you can,” she answered. Leo loved all the Nightshade guys, and one of them taking him to school was like a special treat. Train was, of course, his favorite, but Meg knew that Monroe ran a close second to him. “Thanks, Monroe.”

 

“You're welcome. Lead the way to the toast, Leo!”

 

Meg followed them inside, poured herself coffee and let Leo put jam on toast for her. She fought the urge to go outside for a smoke by listening to Leo as he chattered on and on about the new game system he wanted for Christmas and the loft bed he wanted for his new room. Both things weren't cheap, so maybe calling and refusing the job was a stupid thing to do. She just didn't know.

 

By the time that Leo left with Monroe, Meg had a full-blown migraine and wanted nothing more than to go back to bed. But she didn't. Instead, she called and turned down the job. Ginger called her a stupid bitch and hung up on her. She took pain pills for the headache and sent out another round of job applications without much hope.

 

Meg made it to ten o'clock before she called Train. The phone rang several times and then she got his voice mail. She didn't leave a message.

Chapter Fifteen

 

It was a gray day. The clouds were threatening snow, and Train was completely sick of the winter and there were still a few months left. It was even colder on the docks, because of the water, and all he wanted to do was get the cargo handled and get warm, but he knew that something wasn't right as soon as the crates came out. They were slightly larger than the original crates and way heavier. They were too heavy for the bootleg purses or movies that Anzaldi normally used to mask the massive quantities of currency.

 

Buster knew it, too. His jaw was set in a hard line. “Open them, now.” Danny and Caesar stepped forward to do just that while Ace went about closing the door to the container.

 

There were six crates total; each box held a washing machine. “Something tells me that Anzaldi isn't opening a laundromat.” Buster looked down into the box.

 

“I bet my bank account they've got something special on the inside,” Ace chimed in. “We should open one up, see what it is.”

 

“No way to do that without destroying the crate and letting Anzaldi know we checked,” Buster sighed. “We're going to close 'em up, deliver them, and at the drop, he'll show us what's in them just like he did with the purses.”

 

“And if he doesn't feel like showing us?” Train knew the answer, but the question needed to be asked. He needed to know just what he should bring with him to the drop.

 

“If he doesn't, this drop is going to be more interesting than most. He needs to be clear that the merchandise doesn't change, not without us being aware of it. We let Anzaldi do it, everyone else will start. And then we'll have another problem.” Buster's annoyance came across in his voice, and Train knew it was because of Info; the man had fallen off the grid yet again. The search for Cane was taking longer than any of them liked. Buster had even told Ace to go ahead and contact intelligence officers from other clubs to see if they could get a bead on him.

“What if we don't like what's in the washers?” Bones asked. The man was usually pretty quiet, so when he did ask a question they all took notice. “I mean, we wouldn't work with Gagliardi because he's trafficking people. If it's something bad like that, do we just end our arrangement with Anzaldi?”

 

Train thought that it was an excellent question. “We'd take it to the table, discuss our options and vote on it,” Buster answered. “Let's not put the cart before the horse. Right now, we need to get these off the docks and under cover until the meet.”

 

“I got something!” Ace called out. “Bones just texted me. He found a house that Cane rented under his real name. It's in Riverdale. Bones is getting me all the info he can on the place. We can be there in less than four hours this time of day.”

 

“I'll go,” Train offered. He figured that the ride would do him good, and the truth was, he didn't really want to go home. “We want to keep it low profile, right?”

 

“Low profile is good. Alone is too risky.”

“I'll go,” Ace offered. “Jillian's making meatloaf for dinner. You've all had Jillian's meatloaf, right?”

BOOK: All That Matters
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