I pressed my fingers to my eyebrows. “Why you thought outnumbering us with women was a good idea, I don’t know.”

“Not one of my better decisions.” Jett smirked, buckling up.

“You have no idea what it’s like to try to wrangle them together and get them to focus.”

“I do know. I watch you do it.” Jett laughed, referring to the cameras he had in the room. “I’m glad I’m not doing it.”

“Yeah, you just make me do the dirty work.”

“Isn’t that how it’s always been?” he asked. “I’m the mastermind, you do the grunt work.”

His comment was said with humor, but it was very true. Ever since I’d known Jett, he had come up with schemes for the trouble we loved getting in, and I always followed through with the deed. We were never caught. It was a small high we’d lived on when we were young. Now that we were older, our schemes were heavier in weight. Instead of covering up misadventures, we covered up sins and helped people escape them.

“Where are we going?” Jett asked, breaking my thought.

“I don’t really know.” I shrugged. “I was thinking about going to Target.” I really had no idea where to shop.

“Target? Seriously?” Jett asked with disapproval.

“Shit, I don’t know.” I rubbed the back of my neck, trying to think. “I don’t know what to get a little girl.”

“You don’t have to get her anything,” Jett replied. “You give them money already.”

“It’s the least I can do,” I said, feeling the weight of responsibility on my shoulders.

Madeline didn’t have a father in her life because of me, so I’d taken it upon myself to make sure she was well taken care of from a distance. The checks I earned at the Lafayette Club went straight to her every month. I dropped a pile of cash in her mailbox every month with a note of sorrow and regret. It was her birthday, and I’d decided it was a day I would help celebrate, so I was out to get her a gift but had no fucking clue what a little girl wanted.

“Why am I coming?” Jett asked. “You should have brought one of the Jett Girls.”

“That would have warranted too many questions. I don’t want questions. I don’t need them.”

“I can understand that. So instead it’s going to be us shopping for a little girl?”

“Yup,” I responded, holding back a smirk. “Should be a good time.”

“Or a major clusterfuck,” Jett shot back. “We’re not going to Target though. Head to the French Market. You can at least get her something with meaning of the city she lives in.”

“Are you getting sentimental on me?” I teased.

“Do you want my help or not?”

“I do. I just didn’t expect you to get into this.”

“I’m not,” Jett said. “I’m just making sure you don’t look like an idiot.”

“She’s not going to know it’s from me,” I replied.  I turned onto St. Charles Street and headed toward the Quarter.

“Explain how that’s going to work,” Jett said.

I felt Jett’s questioning eyes on me. He always had to know every aspect of a plan he was a part of, and it drove me crazy sometimes. I just wanted to execute my plans without talking about them. But with Jett, you had to make sure you checked all your boxes and took every possible precaution. He wouldn’t be the brilliant business man he was today if he didn’t have that kind of mindset. Too bad it irked me every fucking time.

Blowing out a frustrated breath and gripping tightly on the steering wheel so I didn’t lash out, I said, “I’m just going to drop it off at her front door. Do you think I personally hand them money every month?”

Jett knew my monthly paycheck went to Madeline and Linda, and he’d never said one word about it. He was a silent partner when it came to my drunken sin, and it was an uncommunicated rule we were both in this together, that I was the one who’d killed a man but Jett had covered it up. And for that, we were both at fault. So Jett accepted the fact that my money went to Madeline; he had no qualms about the exchange.

“You’re really going to leave the present on her doorstep? You don’t think that’s creepy in any way?”

“Fuck, you know it’s creepy, me sneaking around and delivering things to them, but what other choice do I have? Show my face? You know I can’t fucking do that.”

“It might help you get past the pent-up emotions you have,” Jett suggested.

I guffawed. “Oh, okay, so I go up to them and hand her a present? A complete stranger? Or should I introduce myself as the man who ruined their lives?”

“You haven’t ruined their lives,” Jett countered.

“Bullshit—”

Jett cut me off. “They could be completely fine, and you wouldn’t know that because you sneak around, hiding and living under a cloud, hoping for your death to come along quicker. Get your fucking head on straight and go see if they are truly hurting.”

It was the same rage Jett went on every few months once he couldn’t stand seeing me hurt anymore. I knew what my sulking did to him. I knew the position I put him in, and I felt bad he had to deal with my past.

“Drop it,” I warned. He was pushing my buttons, and I was about done with it.

Shaking his head, Jett leaned back in his seat. “I don’t get you, man. Why do you keep punishing yourself?”

“Why do you keep asking?”

“I have no clue,” Jett said softly, ending our conversation.

Silence rang as I found my way through the Quarter to the open market where vendors from around the city gathered to sell their homemade souvenirs and crafts. It was a tourist destination, but also, when you looked closely, past the knock-off sunglasses and corny T-shirts, you could find real treasure.

Once I found a parking spot, I cut the engine and studied the bottom of the steering wheel as I contemplated what I wanted to say to Jett.

“I know what happened that night was my fault, and I know you’ve done everything in your power to protect me, Jett, and I appreciate that.”

“It was for selfish reasons,” Jett cut in. I knew fully well Jett had protected me because he couldn’t lose me, not after he’d lost his mom.

“I know,” I responded. “When it comes to my life, you can protect me from the law, but you can’t protect me from my state of mind. The day my fist connected with Marshall Duncan, my life was taken from me, and it’s about time you accept that. The man you once knew no longer exists.”

With that, I got out of the car and headed toward the market, not turning to see if Jett was following me because I knew he would be. He never left my side.

The market buzzed with midday excitement, but there was nothing exciting about the task at hand. All it did was open me up to another kind of darkness that I welcomed with open arms.

***

“This is stupid,” I said, judging the present I tried to wrap. “It looks like a kindergartner wrapped this.”

“Then maybe she will think it’s from a friend.” Jett chuckled next to me.

“Why did you make me wrap it?” I asked, looking at the birthday candle-covered wrapping paper that was crunched together and held down by a long piece of tape.

“Because it was too comical to pass up,” he answered.

“You’re a dick,” I replied, fumbling with the wrapping paper. “If it was in the shape of a box, it would have been easier.”

“It’s a flat handbag,” Jett pointed out. “You just had to tuck the corners in nicely.”

“What are you, the fucking wrapping police?” I asked, trying to smooth out a wrinkle in the paper.

“No. I also don’t have time to sit around in the dark with you while you wait to drop off the present. Just do it already. I’m ready to eat dinner.”

“Missing a meal won’t kill you. You’re starting to look pudgy.”

It was the furthest thing from the truth. Jett was as toned as I was, thanks to our sparring sessions in the gym and the rigorous workouts I put him through.

“Pushing your luck, Haywood,” Jett grunted, answering emails on his phone.