Fallen Heirs (Windsor Academy 3)

I pinch the bridge of my nose. “That doesn’t make it hurt any less, and two wrongs don’t make a right, Shawn.”

“And you think meeting up with Tiny will make it right?”

“Nooooo. I think meeting up with Tiny will give me some reassurances that I desperately need right now. You’re the one who always preached about never relying on someone else to protect me. That if anyone ever comes at me, do what I need to do to save myself. This is me doing that.”

Shawn pulls his hat off and turns the brim backward before putting it back on. “I don’t fucking like this, Jazz.”

“Duly noted. But I’m still going in there.”

He curses. “If you insist on doing this, I’m not letting you walk away until I know for sure you can handle the damn thing. We’ll go to a range or something in the morning.”

“Can’t.” I shake my head. “Sundays are the only days I get to see Belle.”

“Well, then we’ll go Monday.”

“I have school on Monday.”

“You’re going back there? Seriously?”

I rub my temples. “I have to. You know I can’t walk away from this.”

“If something happens to you...”

“I can’t not try. Besides, something can happen to any one of us when we least expect it. My mom is a perfect example of that. She waited at that bus stop almost every damn day without incident for years. I bet she didn’t think she’d get caught in the middle of a drive-by on her way to work that morning and never make it home. I doubt anyone thinks that when they’re going through their regular a.m. routine.”

“I wouldn’t say nobody,” he argues.

I roll my eyes. “You know what I meant.”

Shawn grabs my arm to halt my progress when I try getting out of the car. “Hold up a second, a’ight? If we do this, you need to promise me that you’ll be careful.”

“I promise. You know I overthink almost everything. I’ll be safe.”

Shawn yanks the keys from the ignition with a nod, and we both make our way over to the worn-down apartment building. Shawn raps on the door in a one-two-one pattern. After listening to several locks disengaging, it swings open a moment later. The man filling the doorway is the exact opposite of small, which makes his nickname hilarious. Seriously. Dude’s six-and-a-half-feet tall and easily three-hundred pounds. To most, he’s a scary mofo, but to me, he’s just Shawn’s brother from another mother.

Tiny steps aside and flashes a toothy smile. “Damn, girl, you’re getting better with age.”

I smirk. “Thanks, Tiny.”

Shawn punches his arm. “Back the fuck off.”

His best friend takes a step back and holds his palms out. “Chill. Didn’t realize you two were a thing again.”

“We’re not.” I shake my head.

Shawn scowls at that, which makes Tiny laugh.

“So, to what do I owe the honor?” Tiny gestures for me to have a seat on the brown leather couch.

My ex-boyfriend takes a seat on the cushion beside me. “Jazz needs a piece. Something small and easy to handle, preferably.”

“You don’t say...” Tiny’s brows raise in surprise. “Someone giving you trouble, shorty?”

I nod. “You could say that.”

Tiny cracks his knuckles. “All right, then. Step into my office.”

He gestures for me to follow him into a bedroom. At first glance, it seems like a standard guest room/office combo. There’s a daybed against one wall, a small bookshelf, and a desk on the opposite wall. I’m confused as he pulls out the trundle under the bed until he reveals an army green storage container in the hollowed-out section of the mattress. Tiny fiddles with the lock before lifting the top off, revealing an assortment of handguns, neatly organized from largest to smallest. He picks up a little black one, checks the magazine, and hands it to me.