Jake had left behind his wife Marcy and their baby girl, Rose. Hell, I’d grown up with Marcy, and I hadn’t seen her and Rose in months. Every time I did, guilt and grief crippled me for days.

“I’m done with that game,” I told Carlos, though I shouldn’t have to. He knew I was done.

The urge to scrub my skin rode me. I showered two hours ago, but I felt unclean, sticky with regret and rage. Dad’s shame had somehow transferred onto me and I couldn’t rid myself of it.

His smile was weary. “Yeah, I know. But this gym is all I have too. It goes and we all lose our home.”

I couldn’t sit there anymore. Lurching up, I paced the small space. “We need to bring in more business. No, what we need is a sponsor.” And a fucking miracle.

Carlos rubbed his chin and watched me pace. “That could work, but what would the draw be?”

“Fuck if I know.” My chest sagged with a sigh. “Tax write-off? The joys of helping inner-city youths?”

Dark humor lit Carlos’s eyes. “Your lack of enthusiasm isn’t exactly selling me here.”

“Because I’m no good at bullshitting. I’m a shit salesman.”

“That you are, bro,” said a voice from the door.

Dean, my baby brother and expert bullshitter, lounged in the doorway. I honestly didn’t know how the fuck we were related. First off, instead of wearing jeans and a shirt like any other guy here, he was dressed in a three-piece suit that I knew cost more than his rent—rent that I paid. The little pissant.

Secondly, he was too fucking pretty. From grade school on, girls cooed over his blue eyes and sandy hair. Prince fucking Charming. I pushed away the thought that he looked like my ma. I missed her daily.

That was the hell of it. I missed too many people.

“What’s wrong with you?” Dean asked, ambling into my office. He stopped short and gave me a wide, fake-ass smile. “Today, I mean.”

I shot Carlos a quick, do not say a damn word glare. He blinked, and I knew he understood. I kept Dean away from the business troubles. He had potential to be something great—if he ever got his head out of his own ass and got a job.

Carlos stood up and rolled a kink out of his neck. “Rhys has a case of limp dick.”

I elbowed Carlos hard enough to knock him sideways. “Get the fuck outta here with that shit. You want to jinx me or something?”

Carlos snorted and looked to Dean. “Got any advice for that, college boy?”

“Thoughts and prayers?”

“You’re both hilarious.” But our ploy had worked. Dean was distracted.