“Did Burl know what Biz was doing? Did he know it was a setup?”
“Not back then.”
But, as far as Shyla was concerned, there was no excuse. At the very least, Burl knew the truth in the same way everyone did these days. Score was free, Siobhan wasn’t dead.
That just increased her confusion. “I don’t get it,” she said. “You said Burl sets the family line, that acting without his approval would be insane.”
He nodded at the board, reminding her it was her turn. “Yeah, Biz took his life in his hands.”
“How come Burl didn’t hand him his head when he found out?”
She took her shot, but noted his shrug from the corner of her eye. “I don’t know and don’t care.”
Shuffling closer to him, she ended up kneeling at the corner of the table, her frown set on him. “You must care. You have to. I care. I’m mad. I want to know what the hell—”
“Easy,” he said, raising a calming hand. “You’ve gotta be careful talking like that.” There was no one else in the room and she glanced around to prove it. “Shouldn’t get in the habit of it.”
“Someone should ask Burl for the answer.”
“No one questions him, not on something like that.”
It infuriated her. “You go to prison for six years, your own brother sets you up, and you’re just meant to be okay with the fact your father did nothing about it?”
“We don’t know what he did,” Score said, moving one of his pieces.
Shyla couldn’t even look at the board. “You didn’t go back to them? After prison.”
“Why would I? Nothing there for me.”
“The guy who set you up is there.”
“Yeah, and it wouldn’t be easy to sit on my fucking hands like Burl would order me too. Why would I want to be around Biz, who’s fucking cock of the walk up there now?”
“What about your other brothers? Were they in on it? Were they surprised? You must have talked about it.”
“Doran enjoys the easy life.”
Score spoke of Burl, Biz, and Doran; she’d noticed that he was less vocal about his other brother. “Your other brother is Razor, right?”
“Razer,” he said, emphasizing the E. “Yeah.”
“Why don’t you mention him?”
“Zay and me were tight,” he said.
“So it hurts you that he didn’t believe you were innocent?”
“He did. But fuck all he could do about it when Burl told him to stay away.”
“He could’ve left. Stuck up for you.”
“Then I’d be in prison and he’d be strung up. Never wanted anyone to go on a crusade for me. Yeah, I didn’t kill Siobhan. But I’m not lily white. Can’t say I didn’t deserve to be where I was.”
Whatever crimes he’d committed in the past, during his work for his family, he didn’t deserve to be sent to death row by his brother or be abandoned by his blood. If Burl had believed in his innocence, wouldn’t he have fought for his son’s freedom? Shyla didn’t know all the details and didn’t want to force him to relive the dark times he must have gone through in prison.
“I don’t understand why Burl just let it slide. Why Biz would be—”
“He’s grooming Biz to take over. Razer doesn’t have the patience and Play doesn’t have the concentration.”
“Is that why Biz did what he did? To get you out the way, so he could have top spot?”
“Biz is the oldest,” he said. “It was always his. But yeah, maybe. I had a lot of respect on the streets. People feared Razer, still do. He’d put a bullet or a blade in a guy before he even knew he wasn’t alone.… If Bosco was around, maybe he’d give a warning, maybe, but that’s a big maybe.”
“Bosco?”
“His best friend.”
This whole other life had come before Score went to prison. Prison was like his second existence, and their lives together were like his third. Shyla wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to learn all of him. The layers of a man who some might shrug off as nothing more than a criminal intrigued her. Score was more than that. He was more than one thing and she had no plans to give him up any time soon.
Their game lasted a long time. Yet, Shyla hadn’t looked at the clock and didn’t care about the time. Score pondered each move. Maybe he hadn’t been at the peak of his concentration the first time they played or maybe he’d just let her win to give her a boost. Whichever one it was, their current game was going only one way.
“Checkmate,” he said and sat back on the couch. “Are you mad?”
Shyla just smiled and rose up on her knees to put their pieces back to their starting positions. “No,” she said, tossing him a wily glance. “People who get mad about losing are insecure. Do I seem insecure?”
The question was only posed because Score had put it to her that way. Shyla hadn’t really expected him to reply.
“You shouldn’t be,” he said. “You’re beautiful, you’re smart, and you’re resourceful… You have nothing to be insecure about.”
The compliment seeded itself inside her. Shyla wasn’t sure how to respond. It wasn’t like she’d spent her life accepting flattery from hot men like Score, or like anyone.
“Thank you,” she said, finishing up her task then laying her hands on the table. “Do you want to play again?”
“If you want,” he said, lifting his hand to turn his watch toward himself. “If that’s how you want to spend our time.”
Right. With the drinking and the talking and the game, Shyla hadn’t only lost track of time, she’d lost track of their purpose. Suddenly nervous, she swallowed hard. For all her desperation earlier, facing the act was more
