“But that’s your goal, right?”
“It is. Find the diamond in the rough. Bet big on it before anyone else does. Grow it and watch it turn into a money tree.”
Rex waved his arms enthusiastically. “Oh man, I want a money tree. I want a big fat money tree that grows greenbacks all year round. Ty, let’s go grow us a money tree.”
“Yeah, right, in the concrete pit at our crappy apartment complex,” Tyler said with a snort from his spot on the sidelines.
“Hey! Watch it. We’ll move up someday.” Rex turned back to me and pointed his thumb at Tyler. “I gotta look out for him. Mom’s working too many jobs again.”
“That’s why she makes sure you’re here instead of wandering the streets,” I said, passing the ball to Rex. “And if you study business, you’ll have a hell of a lot better shot at growing a money tree than you would by chasing after some get-rich-quick scheme. Invest, nurture, grow, make more. That’s what I do. That’s my job. That’s my passion.” I held out my arm, showing the tattoo there. Nothing ventured. Nothing gained.
Rex tucked the ball beneath his arm and walked closer to see.
“Hey, Rex. I’m hungry,” Tyler interjected.
“Give me a second, Ty. I’ll make you mac and cheese when we get home. My man Colin is training me to be a venture capitalist. Get over here and join us.” Rex turned his attention back to my ink. “So that’s your mission at work or something? Nothing ventured, nothing gained?”
“Yeah, but in life too. Means more to me than just work.”
“Like what?” Rex asked.
“It means take big chances. It means stay away from drugs,” I said, speaking bluntly to the boys as I always did.
Rex sneered. “What do you know about that, Mr. Richie Rich? You probably bathe in Cristal.”
“You think I was born rich? You think I was rolling in cash as a kid? Wrong,” I said, as if I’d just slammed a buzzer on a game show. “We struggled to make ends meet, and I made a ton of bad choices after my father’s death. I was thirteen, and I turned to the wrong crowd and got involved in the wrong things. Painkillers, tequila, and then speed when I was in college. I was a mess. All these,” I said, gesturing to my arms covered in ink, “they’re my reminders. Eight years clean.” I pointed to the art on my body, naming each one. “Lotus, new beginning. Sunburst, truth and bravery. This Chinese character—it’s for strength.”
Rex raised his chin and peered at an infinity symbol with four interlocking circles on my wrist. “What’s that one?”
“My brothers, sister, and me. The four of us. Our unbreakable bond, no matter what.”
“That’s like us.” Rex pointed to his little brother. “I always look out for Tyler. That’s why I have this.” He pulled up his sleeve to his shoulder. At first, I saw only a few letters of the word Protect. My hackles rose. The guy who’d been following Shannon around had some ink on his arm that said Protect Our Own—the tattoo of the Royal Sinners.
That reminded me. I needed to show Elle the picture of him. But I’d reset my phone after testing a new fitness app that had downloaded a virus. Needless to say, my venture firm wasn’t going to fund that app. I’d just have to snag the photo again from Brent.
To Rex I said, “That better not be what I think it is. That better not be Protect Our Own.”
Rex laughed deeply, clutching his belly, letting the sound resonate through him. “No. No. No,” he said, catching his breath. “No way. No how. Our ink says Protector. We got ours together.” Rex stepped closer to me and showed me the full wrap of the word around his bicep. Tyler yanked up his shirtsleeve, displaying matching ink.
“I would whip him good if he messed around with that gang.” Rex draped an arm around his little brother, then his expression went serious. “I saw some of them a few blocks away the other day.”
“Here?” I asked, pointing to the basketball court.
Rex nodded. “Nearby. We made sure they didn’t come any closer.”
I didn’t like the sound of gang members hovering so close to the community center. I wanted the center, the kids, and Elle as safe as could be.
“Who’s ‘we’? What is Protector?” I asked, returning to the ink.
“A group of us who are trying to look out for others,” Tyler said, chiming in proudly. He seemed to idolize his older brother.
I arched an eyebrow. “Like the Guardian Angels?”
Rex nodded. “We model ourselves after them. We’re all volunteers. We do safety patrols. Walk the streets. Keep an eye out. Elle inspired me to do it. Rise above, as she would say.”
“Did someone say my name?”
I turned in the direction of the sexy and sweet voice. Elle wore tight jeans and a little white summery blouse. Her long dark hair spilled down her spine, and she gathered it up, creating a makeshift ponytail, then fanned her face with her free hand.
“We’re quoting you, Elle. Rise above,” Tyler said, raising his fist in the air.
She held up a hand to high-five Tyler, then slapped his older brother’s hand too. “Excellent. You boys do me proud.”
Rex draped an arm around his brother. “Hey, Elle, did you hear? Colin is trying to turn me into the next venture capitalist.”
“That sounds like an excellent pursuit,” she said.
“I’m gonna earn twenty-five percent and beat his ass.”
“After I tutor you in math, you just might,” I said.
The teen turned to Elle. “He twisted my arm. He’s going to make me learn my two plus twos for community college. Anyway, it’s too hot out here. We’re going inside. Catch you later, Mr. Cristal,” Rex said with a wink at me.
As he walked away, Elle raised an eyebrow. “Mr. Cristal?”
“Long story. But it has a good ending.”
“Maybe tell me tonight?” She tucked her thumbs into the pockets of her jeans. “Turns out I have more time than I thought. Alex is doing a volunteer project after camp as part of his high school’s summer community service—reading to some of the younger kids at a local elementary school every day this week. So we can do that crazy scary thing you’re forcing me to do.”
I laughed. “You’re going to love it.”
That was my goal. She wasn’t ready for romance, but I could damn well make sure she enjoyed the hell out of our time together.
She shuddered. “Are you sure we can’t just go for a stroll?”
I shot her a curious stare. “So let me get this straight. You do roller derby, racing around a rink like a speed demon on skates, and you won’t do a zip line?” I asked, challenging her.
She narrowed her eyes, parking her hands on her hips. “Not the same. Roller derby is flat. Besides, I’ve done it for years, I play defense, and it’s indoors.”
“C’mon, Titanium,” I urged, goading her with her roller derby name. “You can do it.”
“If you insist.”
“I do, and I promise we will have fun,” I said, since I sensed she needed that. She gave a lot of herself here at the center and with her family. She deserved a night to blow off steam.