“I know that too.”
“I’ve been sitting here trying to jog any memory loose, anything to help me make sense of all this shit. August was my best friend. He still is, even if he doesn’t care anymore, but what I can’t figure out is why he would accept the brand and work with Dad, knowing who he was and what he did? Why would he do that, Mere? Why wouldn’t August warn me?”
“Can’t answer that, Montana, ‘cause I don’t know. Gonna have to ask him. All I can tell you is that August wasn’t surprised when we uncovered the truth about your dad. It was almost as if he somehow suspected, which is fucking crazy because we were still kids, and no way could we make that shit up.”
“You think Auggie somehow knew already?”
“If he did, he was damn good at keeping it a secret.”
Montana huffed. “That’s one thing that fucker is still good at. Keeping secrets. When he’s not drunk or working at the hospital, he spends his fucking time in his office doing God knows what.”
“Drunk?” I muttered, frowning. “August doesn’t drink, Montana. He’s allergic to alcohol.”
“The fuck he is. Bastard’s been drunk since college.”
Shaking my head, I sat up. “No. There is no way August can drink. Remember when he got deathly sick after that night we snuck into your dad’s liquor cabinet? He almost died. That’s when some specialist diagnosed him with acute alcohol intolerance. It’s like an allergy and very fucking rare. If August drinks, he would have difficulty breathing, break out in hives or, in a severe case, go into anaphylactic shock.”
“Mere,” Montana firmly said. “I’ve seen that fucker down a bottle of scotch.”
“Don’t know what to tell you, but I’d bet every fucking penny I own it wasn’t scotch he was drinking.”
“SILVER!” Montana shouted for the club’s bartender. “Fuck this shit. I know my best friend. That motherfucker is an alcoholic and has been for over twenty fucking years.”
“What?” the pretty bartender snarked, walking into Montana’s office.
“Go bring me a bottle of Bane’s whiskey.”
“His special blend?”
“Yes.”
Saying nothing more, we sat glaring at each other as Silver went to do as Montana requested.
“You know you’re gonna look like a fucking idiot when she comes back, right?”
“I know nothing of the sort, but I know my best friend.”
Smiling, I just shook my head and sighed. “You’re still a fucking idiot.”
Silver returned with an unopened bottle of Hell’s Breath and two tumblers. Placing the glasses and the bottle on the desk, she cocked her hip and glared at the man.
“You want me to drink it too?”
“Just fucking pour us a glass.”
Rolling her eyes, I watched while she broke the seal then poured two drinks. Handing them to us, she asked, “Anything else?”
Montana sniffed the amber liquid and muttered, “What the hell?”
Laughing out loud, I downed my drink and placed it back on the desk. “I fucking told you.”
Following my lead, Montana threw back the drink, then quickly spit it across the room. “FUCK! I hate sweet tea!”
“Yeah.” I nodded. “August always had a sweet tooth.”
Reaching for the bottle, Montana stared at the label. “This makes no sense. The label is legit, but the bottle is full of sweet tea.”
“That’s because when I order a case of Hell’s Breath, Bane has me place a special order with Frank.”
