Craving My Brother's Best Friend (Bailey and Kaleb) novel Chapter 68

**Marco’s POV**

I was at my wits’ end, desperately trying to reach Kaleb.

That bastard had just up and vanished, claiming he needed a break from the mafia.

A break?

What in the hell was going through his mind?

My jaw tightened to the point where I could hear the grinding of my teeth, a physical manifestation of my frustration.

**2012**

**55 vouchers**

The harsh truth was that Kaleb was nearly finished paying off his father’s loan, but I’d never let him in on that little secret. Now, he wanted to walk away just when we were so close to freedom.

With a surge of anger, I slammed my fist down on the table, the force knocking over the half-empty glass of whiskey. It tipped and spilled, the amber liquid cascading across the wooden surface.

The sharp, bitter scent of alcohol filled the air, but it did nothing to soothe the storm brewing inside me.

I was seething; I needed him back.

The godfather had a mountain of errands piling up, and Kaleb was my right-hand man.

No one else could handle things as efficiently as he could.

“Boss…”

The voice that broke through my thoughts was shaky, laced with hesitation. I turned to see one of the young punks I had sent out for a drug deal earlier, standing nervously by the door.

His head was lowered, beads of sweat trickling down his temples like a slow, agonizing drip.

“What?” I barked, the irritation in my voice evident.

He licked his lips, glancing up at me with wide eyes.

“The deal… it fell through. The police caught wind of it. They were already there when we arrived, and we had to scatter.”

For a moment, I was paralyzed, unable to breathe.

“What did you just say?” My voice dropped to an icy whisper, each word sharp enough to cut.

“The police, boss. They…”

Before he could finish, I crossed the room in two strides, my fist connecting with his face in a brutal punch.

He stumbled back, clutching his jaw, but I wasn’t finished with him yet.

“You worthless piece of shit!” I roared, delivering another blow to his gut. He doubled over, gasping for breath.

“How hard could it be? Huh? Just a simple errand, a straightforward delivery, and you managed to screw it all up!”

He coughed, his hands instinctively trying to rise in defense. “Boss, I swear…”

I seized his collar, slamming him against the wall with a force that echoed in the room, my knuckles cracking against his cheek.

“Do you think this is a game?!” I shouted, my voice reverberating with fury. “Do you have any idea what happens when the godfather hears that the cops got involved?”

He whimpered something, but I didn’t care. My fists continued to fly, fueled by rage until my breath came in ragged gasps, and my hand was sticky with his blood.

Finally, I released him, and he crumpled to the ground, groaning in pain.

I wiped my hand on a napkin lying on the table, the reality of the situation settling in.

I needed Kaleb back.

There was only one way to get through to him.

One way to penetrate that stubborn wall he had built around himself, and that was Bailey.

The last time I had visited her, he had hit me so hard that I had to apply a cold compress for two days straight.

I knew his weakness; all I had to do was utter her name, and he would lose his mind.

I tossed the bloodied napkin onto the floor and grabbed my coat, determination surging through me.

If Kaleb thought he could simply walk away, he was sorely mistaken.

The bar was dimly lit, shrouded in smoke and the heavy, cloying scent of sweat and liquor.

It was the kind of place where broken men came to drown their sorrows, seeking solace in the bottom of a glass.

A jukebox in the corner hummed softly, playing a slow blues tune that no one seemed to care about.

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