In the afternoon, while Father and my brothers talked business, I listened to Mom recount the latest gossip from our circles—just in case there was something I’d missed.
She mentioned that the McCoys, our biggest rivals, almost snatched a deal from Evander, but my perfect brother won the tender anyway.
We said our goodbyes and walked out.
“I hope you aren’t taking this car to class next week,” Evander said.
Destiny shot me a flirtatious glance; my brother would never put her in a car like this.
“As a Griffin, that hardly fits the profile.”
“I guess not then,” I remarked at his tone.
“I’ll take the bus.”
I drove home to find the twins awake, washing and packing their clothes.
They each had a drawer in one of my guest rooms.
“I need your car, Leo,” I said, walking in.
“I’m keeping it for a while.”
“Do I get the convertible in exchange?” Leo’s eyes lit up.
I just laughed.
“Like hell you do.
You’re going to buy yourself another junker.” I dropped the cash on the table.
“Why do you need Leo’s car?” Mike asked.
“Because I can’t take mine to college and I refuse to take the bus.
I promised my father I wouldn’t get kicked out, so I actually have to show up occasionally.”
“You can’t have it tomorrow,” Leo said.
“It’s at the mechanic.
I’m picking it up tomorrow afternoon.”
“Then I really am taking the bus tomorrow,” I sighed.
“But I want it by the afternoon.” He nodded.
“We got a message that our father left the house,” Mike said as they started eating.
“And two requests to tail potential cheating spouses,” Leo added.
“Organize the surveillance,” I said.
“And split the profit among the people on your street and the two parallel blocks.
They didn’t touch my beauty last night.”
“You got it, Cas,” Leo said.
The two looked alike—brown hair, brown eyes—but they weren’t identical.
They were a bit short for guys, and thin, though Leo’s tattoos and Mike’s leather jacket made them look intimidating at first glance.
Over the years, I built a profitable information network among kids like Leo and Mike—kids who grew up hard.
Sometimes we even helped the police.
If someone wanted to know something, we found it.
If a message needed to be sent, we spread it.
But I didn’t ruin lives.
I never leaked or sourced just anything.
Early on, I shut down the drug trade in this city and used my own resources to get the impacted kids clean.
Now, they work for my network instead.
Very few people knew Leo and Mike were with me; to most of the street kids, those two ran the show.
“We’re going to a new place tomorrow,” Leo said.
“It’s not a rowdy spot, so we haven’t heard of it until now,” he laughed.
“But they have live violins, and you love the violin.
Since tomorrow is your last day before school starts, it’s a good way to close out the summer.”
“I’m open to anything,” I said.
The next day after lunch, I drove to a downtown bistro where the sound of a violin was already loud as we entered.
The music wasn’t intrusive—someone was playing rock on a violin.
I sat at the bar, wanting to listen, but it was only a snippet.
A small crowd had gathered around a podium on the far side of the bistro.
Someone shouted out another song title, and the player started again.
Curious, I stood up and walked over.
I could see over most people’s heads.
A pretty girl in her late teens sat on a barstool, dressed in baggy gray pants and a hoodie.
Her red hair was pinned in a tight bun as she played snippets of songs requested by the guests.
“Alright, one last one,” the girl said.
I wanted to request a song, but before I could speak, someone else shouted one out and she began to play.
When she finished to a round of applause, she packed up her violin and walked out the door, accompanied by a tall guy with shoulder-length blonde hair.
He was nearly my height and only a few years younger than me.
The girl was short, maybe seventeen.
She pulled up her hood and gave a small wave to the bartender but didn’t stop.
It was as if she were a celebrity who didn’t want to be noticed.
I signaled the boys to move, following their car from a distance in mine.
“Who’s the girl?” I asked.
“Is she famous?” Leo shrugged.
“Never seen her,” Leo admitted.
“But she’s young for you,” he laughed.
“Maybe seven years younger than you.”
“If she’s even seventeen,” Mike added.
“I don’t mess with girls that young.
She’s practically a kid,” I said.