Turn (Gentry Generations) Read online

  Table of Contents

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  EPILOGUE

  turn

  Gentry Generations

  By Cora Brent

  © 2018

  TABLE OF CONTENTS

  CHAPTER ONE

  CHAPTER TWO

  CHAPTER THREE

  CHAPTER FOUR

  CHAPTER FIVE

  CHAPTER SIX

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  CHAPTER NINE

  CHAPTER TEN

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  CHAPTER FIFTEEN

  CHAPTER SIXTEEN

  CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

  CHAPTER EIGHTEEN

  CHAPTER NINETEEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

  CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE

  EPILOGUE

  AMAZON AUTHOR PAGE

  Gentry Boys Box Set Books 1-4

  GENTRY BOYS (Books 1-4)

  Gentry Boys Series

  DRAW

  RISK

  GAME

  FALL

  HOLD

  CROSS (A Novella)

  WALK

  EDGE

  SNOW (A Christmas Story)

  Gentry Generations

  (A Gentry family spinoff series)

  STRIKE

  TURN

  Worked Up

  FIRED

  NAILED

  Stand Alones

  Unruly

  Breathless Point (Coming soon)

  COPYRIGHT

  Please respect the work of this author. No part of this book may be reproduced or copied without permission. This book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only.

  This book is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is purely coincidental. Any similarity to events or situations is also coincidental.

  The publisher and author acknowledge the trademark status and trademark ownership of all trademarks and locations mentioned in this book. Trademarks and locations are not sponsored or endorsed by trademark owners.

  © 2018 by Cora Brent

  All Rights Reserved

  Cover Design: Sara Eirew

  Cover Photo: Sara Eirew

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  CHAPTER ONE

  He wasn’t sure about me.

  I could see the truth in the way he rocked back in his chair and tapped two fingers against a knee as his blue eyes examined my face for signs of weakness or bad intentions.

  My instincts told me this was a man who would be too honest to toss out some bullshit excuse about why I wouldn’t be a good fit. I’d have to give him a reason to think otherwise. I gazed directly back at him without flinching.

  Eventually Cord Gentry must have seen enough for his satisfaction because he nodded once and asked, “So when can you start?”

  I stifled a sigh of relief and grinned. “Tomorrow.”

  He stared at me for a heartbeat and then grinned back. “Good.”

  Cord produced some paperwork and told me that before my hiring was official I’d need to make an appointment to go piss in a cup. He raised an eyebrow, maybe trying to gauge by my reaction if that was going to be a problem. It wasn’t. I’d never been a drug user. I didn’t ask if the piss test was standard for all new employees or only for former gangbangers. Either way I wasn’t going to raise an objection. I understood I was only getting my foot in the door here because the other owner of Scratch used to be buddies with my old man. I owed Deck Gentry a huge debt of gratitude.

  “Deck wanted to be here today,” Cord Gentry said as if he was reading my thoughts. “But priorities got reshuffled. His daughter’s getting an award at her school and Deck never misses a parental obligation.”

  “Of course,” I said, trying to match the image of a devoted family man to the hell raiser my father used to tell stories about. Not that I was in any position to sit in judgment. Perhaps there was nothing unusual about a man reformatting his life, only leaving rumors and stories in his wake. The idea gave me hope.

  Cord was watching me but he seemed to have relaxed a notch since I walked through the door fifteen minutes ago. “Deck says he hasn’t seen you since you were a kid but he remembers you well.”

  “I remember him too,” I said, sorting through old pictures in my head and stopping at one where Deck Gentry was rocking back on the legs of an old lawn chair in my folks’ barren backyard while he and my dad laughed over their ancient antics at Emblem High. Deck was never one to come roaring in on his bike empty handed. After giving my old man a friendly slap on the back he would crouch down to my level and unload his leather jacket pockets. They’d be full of small drugstore plastic toys and candy he’d brought for my brothers and me.

  Until my recent move to the Phoenix area, the last time I had seen Deck Gentry was at my father’s funeral ten years ago. I was twelve at the time. Even though he hadn’t been around, he’d still kept tabs on my family, sending envelopes filled with cash to my mother now and then. I’d known he was up here in the valley but I didn’t want him to feel obligated so I hesitated to seek him out until I couldn’t think of anything else.

  Deck’s cousin, Cord, had started talking again so I had to shake off thoughts of the past. Cord reminded me that I was being hired on a trial basis and during that time I’d be expected to work hard and keep my nose clean. I was also expected to take the training seriously. I’d done some body piercing on the side but that was over three years ago and it just was a backroom operation in a seedy bar outside Emblem.

  This place, Scratch, was famous for their ink artists but piercing was a steady sideline from what Cord had said. Plus they were trying to get their merchandise line off the ground and the daily work of that task would primarily fall to me. To start out, when I wasn’t actively training I’d be printing logos on t-shirts and coffee mugs, plus helping with cleanup or whatever else was needed. The deal so
unded much better than shoveling heavy objects beneath the desert sun for a notch above minimum wage so I was happy to do whatever chores Cord Gentry felt like assigning.

  My new boss shook my hand before I left and as I walked out of his office I felt pretty damn good, better than I had in a long while. If someone would have told me two years ago I’d be this satisfied to land a taxpaying civilian job that would barely pay the rent and keep groceries in the fridge I would have told them to go kick rocks. Back then it hadn’t occurred to me that all choices had unexpected consequences. Now I knew differently.

  The lobby was full of customers and no one glanced twice at me as I passed through the glass doors out to the street. After I checked my watch I looked at the address on the drug screening paperwork Cord had given me and figured I ought to get that chore knocked out today. Folding the paper in half, I stowed it under my arm and headed to the parking lot.

  Two seconds later I felt a flash of irritation when I saw my decrepit old car had some company. The girl was squinting at her phone and leaning against the driver’s side door like she’d found a piece of public furniture and not some poor guy’s only possession of value. She made a laughing comment to a friend who was standing nearby beside a Toyota that was packed to the roof with the typical flotsam of college girl life; quilts and beanbag chairs and shit. The university was only a mile down the road and these two had the oblivious look of privileged college girls, especially the blonde, who tapped her phone screen with pink manicured nails.

  Not that she wasn’t hot.

  I would have a damn good time pushing those cutoff shorts down her suntanned legs. In another time and place that might have been an option. But right now I was just annoyed that she was using the hood of my car as a coaster for her Circle K cup. Anyway, she wouldn’t be my sort of girl. She looked like the type who would blow an entire paycheck on a handbag and answer every question with an emoticon.

  “Excuse me,” I said and the girl’s head whipped up at the sound of my voice.

  There was surprise in her wide blue eyes and she didn’t move aside right away even though I was standing two feet away. Now that she was looking right at me I could really appreciate just how pretty she was. That changed nothing. I wasn’t on the hunt for distractions right now.

  I shook my keys. “That’s my car,” I explained because she was still just staring at me like I was a talking dog. “You want to get your damn cup off it?”

  The girl flinched and swiveled her head to discover that yes, the thing she was propping herself up with was actually someone else’s car. Her pouty rosebud lips made an ‘o’ shape as she took a small step away.

  “Sorry,” she said and with a toss of her golden hair flashed a smile that was probably used to winning any prize it wanted.

  I could feel their eyes on me, the blonde and her friend, as I unlocked the door the old fashioned way. The old Ford had nearly as many years on this planet as I did and there was no magic button to press. They were probably sizing me up, the ink on my neck, the faded look of my clothes, the crappy condition of my vehicle. Maybe they were waiting for me to say something or smile back but I didn’t feel like making the effort.

  Before I ducked into the car I noticed that the blonde had failed to remove her cup from my hood. I plucked it off and tossed the thing into a nearby trashcan. I didn’t wait around to see if the college girls had anything to say about it. I had shit to do.

  CHAPTER TWO

  “Rude,” I huffed and my sister laughed.

  “I guess not all guys appreciate it when you deposit trash on their car,” Cami teased as she pushed her bangs from her sweaty forehead and took a sip of bottled water.

  “I didn’t mean to,” I grumbled, feeling a little embarrassed as I watched the old car leave the parking lot of Scratch. “You think it’s too late to flip him off?”

  Cami found the question funny. “Since when does Cassidy Gentry flip the bird to angry strangers?”

  I stuffed my phone into my back pocket. “Since I decided it was time to toughen up.”

  “You might want to pick a different test case. That guy doesn’t look like the type who would be amused.”

  She was probably right. He was a dangerous looking stack of muscle and ink and even though I’d learned from an early age not to judge a man solely by appearance he radiated a ‘Fuck off’ kind of vibe that I didn’t want to get next to.

  “Let’s go indoors,” Cami said, as she headed for the entrance. “I feel like I’m roasting inside Satan’s armpit out here.”

  “Sounds good,” I said.

  Passing through the front doors of my father’s tattoo parlor always made me feel like a minor celebrity.

  “Girls!” squealed Aspen as she scuttled from behind the reception desk to encase us in a hug. She’d been working at Scratch since Cami and I were toddlers.

  “Your father seemed to think you’d be on the road from California all day,” Aspen said, sweeping a piece of hair out of my face in a sweet maternal gesture.

  “We got an early start,” Cami explained. “The car is totally packed to the roof but Dalton won’t be home for another hour and nostalgia wouldn’t allow me to pass this place by without stopping in.”

  Aspen’s grin broadened. “And how is Dalton Tremaine these days?”

  My sister smirked. “Ready to cohabitate.”

  “Don’t remind me,” boomed the voice of Cordero Gentry. He stood six feet away, examining us with what was probably supposed to be a harsh expression but didn’t fool me. I could see the corners of his mouth twitching.

  “Hi, Daddy,” Cami said, moving in for a hug and choosing to ignore the comment. I knew both our parents genuinely liked Dalton, a former major league baseball player who ran a local nightclub for a while before switching gears and opening a youth sports facility. Dalton adored my sister and their relationship was a big reason Cami had accepted a job here in the Phoenix area now that she’d finished college.

  However, Cami hadn’t been sure how the folks were handling the news that their baby girl was officially moving in with her gorgeous thirty-year-old boyfriend.

  Smile lines crinkled the corners of my father’s blue eyes as he gazed down at my twin and planted a kiss atop her head. “My college graduate,” he said with unmistakable pride.

  I hated myself a little for feeling a tiny involuntary sting. My dad wouldn’t have any reason to say the same thing to me anytime soon. I knew I was behind where I ought to be in life and that was my fault. Still, I felt as much pride in Cami’s achievements as my parents did. She’d graduated with a perfect 4.0 from a major university and had a dream job lined up with a prestigious Phoenix newspaper. She’d worked hard and stayed focused and deserved every reward. But I also looked forward to the day when I might give my parents a reason to have as much pride in me. I’d caused them more anxiety by myself than any three daughters put together.

  “How was the drive?” My dad directed the question at me.

  “Long and hot,” I answered. Two days ago I’d driven the old Toyota out to San Diego to help Cami pack up her college life. Cami said Dalton had offered repeatedly to drive out and deal with all the hard labor himself but she told him we could handle it. We’d been looking forward to the road trip, just us two girls, the way we’d started out in life.

  “You painted the ceiling,” Cami observed, looking up.

  “A work in progress,” my dad admitted, tilting his head back and squinting critically at the ceiling, which was now painted a deep, nearly black, purple and dotted with constellations. “I work on it in my spare time.”

  “Since when do you have any spare time?” Cami wanted to know.

  My dad shot her a rueful look. “Since my baby birds started leaving the nest one by one.”

  It was true that the family dynamic was rapidly changing. Even though Cami had been at college in California, she was frequently home on breaks and over the summer. But now, even though she’d only be living eight miles away, Dalton w
as her world. And our younger sister, Cadence, would be leaving for college in Tucson in August. Cadence wouldn’t even be around for the summer. She was busy getting ready to spend the next two months up in Flagstaff as a counselor at a kids’ summer camp. For the first time in my twenty-two years I’d be the only child in my parents’ home.

  “You’ve still got me hanging around for a while,” I reminded my father.

  He smiled. “Thank god. Your mother and I are not ready to be empty nesters at such a tender young age.”

  Cami reached up and tapped him on the right temple. “Since you’re so proud of your youth, you may want to do something about that spreading gray.”

  My father was indignant. “That’s my badge for forty-five years of a life well lived,” he insisted, running a hand over his closely cropped blond hair. “And your Uncle Deck has a hell of a lot more gray than I do.”

  “Is Uncle Deck here?” Cami asked, craning her neck around for a glimpse of the forever roguish and leather-clad Declan Gentry. Our father’s cousin was a partner here at Scratch and the unofficial leader of the Gentry tribe.

  “Deck will be back later if you want to hang around,” my dad said. “He’s at Izzy’s school right now but I know he planned to return.”

  Cami checked her phone. “I would love to see him but we should get going. Dalton took off work early to help unload the car. I hope he’s ready for this. Poor guy is giving up most of his closet space.”

  “Now that’s true love,” I pointed out.

  “Cams, make sure you confirm with your mother that you’ll be coming to dinner tomorrow,” my father said. “She’s made it into a big event. The whole family will be there. And Cadence will be leaving for camp the following morning so it’ll be your only chance to see her.”

  “We’ll be there.” Cami gave our father a peck on the cheek and paused to stare at the ceiling. “I like the effect. This place could use a little face lift, although I’m glad most things stay the same.”