The glint of steel shone from the trees as my brother turned his head. “You know me, hunh?”
I stiffened at the way he said the words. But my focus was fixed on the muzzle of the gun as some asshole stepped from the bushes. “Yeah.” He cut a glance my way. “I know all about you.”
There was a twitch at my brother’s lips. That was never a good thing. “Looks like you’re in charge then, champ.”
A groan came from the garage behind us, drawing the focus of the asshole with the gun. Only then did he really look at us, the balaclava in my hand, the black duffel bag in the other. The blood splatter still wet on my face. But he didn’t flinch at the sight. No, if anything he became even more wary. His brow creased as he drove the gun into Carven’s shoulder and growled. “Move.”
I clenched my jaw and stepped forward, which earned me a cutting glare from Carven. A tiny shake of his head and I stopped. King? Carven gave a shrug. He didn’t know who this asshole was. Until we did, then we’d play along.
Carven strode for the street and glanced at the four-wheel drive further along the street. “You’ve been the one following us, right?”
The guy said nothing as we strode toward our Explorer. “In,” the asshole snarled. “You.” He glared my way. “Drive. One wrong move and I’ll put a bullet in your brain, got me?”
My brother went fucking still. “You don’t want to do that,” he said carefully. “He’s shit at roundabouts.”
The asshole pushed in closer to snarl. “Not today he isn’t.”
But it was the way the deadman moved, the way he held his gun, close to his chest, finger on the trigger. He was military of some kind.
“Fine,” Carven muttered as he rounded the car to the driver’s side. “Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
Carven was too calm, too controlled. I didn’t like it. He opened the back door. “After you.”
The moment the guy glanced inside, my brother moved with savage ferocity, grabbed the big bastard around the throat, and moved behind him faster than I could track. The guy jerked and fought for a second, but my brother was so fucking strong as he pressed his arm like a steel bar across the guy’s throat.
“Easy now,” he murmured as he lifted his gaze to me.
The guy didn’t put up much of a fight. Pity. I held Carven’s stare as all two hundred and some pounds of the fucker slumped in his arms. He let the guy fall through the open door before he heaved his feet in after him and closed it behind him.
We both stared at the dark form on the back seat. That had been a surprise. Carven glanced my way. “The warehouse.”
I nodded, but I didn’t move when he stepped toward the driver’s door.
He stopped and turned my way. “What?”
I met my brother’s stare. “I am not shit at roundabouts.”
There was a chuckle. “Brother, you are so fucking shit at roundabouts. You just can’t pick a goddamn lane, swerving all over the fucking place like you’re tryin’a do your goddamn makeup.”
I scowled, then stalked to the passenger side. “You know, sometimes you can be a real dick.”
He flashed me a grin. “Yet you fucking love me.”
I climbed in and tossed the duffel bag onto the back seat, where it landed on the asshole’s head with a thud. It was that love for him that beat inside me, that love that was its own entity altogether, breathing and living. That love where I existed. I glanced over my shoulder as I pulled the door closed and tugged my seatbelt over. It was lucky Carven had acted. Lucky he was the one who’d had control, because I would’ve torn the fucker apart.
Carven cut a glance my way as he started the engine and pulled out. His bright blue eyes seized mine. He knew I would have. I’d kill anyone who touched my brother. Thoughts of her pushed in and my heart thudded loudly as we accelerated and headed for the warehouse. She beat inside me just as loudly now. A different tone, but still heavy and resounding. And I’d kill anyone who touched her, too.
She was mine.
I sat with the sound of that and she filled my mind. Her wild hair, her cutting anger. The way she’d run to me for safety when London had hunted her through the house. But it was the way she’d winced when I’d driven my cock all the way inside her that burned brighter than everything else. I hadn’t realized what that had meant then, but I realized it now. Heat flushed my cheeks and that thunder in my chest grew louder. I knew exactly what it meant…and I wanted more.
We pulled into the entrance of the warehouse. I glanced at the still form behind me as Carven climbed out and entered the code. The guy was still alive. How long that was…was up to him. We drove inside and parked alongside the building. Carven climbed out and unlocked the door while I heaved the heavy fucker out and across my shoulders, and walked inside.
My brother already had the chair waiting in the middle of the space. I dropped him hard and let him flop forward. Anger flared in my brother’s stare as he caught the fucker and shoved him back. The tape was next, wrapped around his wrists as he gave a low moan and started to come to.
“There he is.” Carven bent into his line of sight. “Had a little nap, but you’re okay now.”
Carven pushed his head upwards and watched as life roared back into the motherfucker’s eyes. He bucked and fought, then jerked his gaze from Carven to me.
“You know about us.” Carven lifted the large knife in his hands. “Tell me…what exactly do you know?”
There was a flicker of fear as the sudden realization hit home. This guy had thought he had the upper hand, had thought he could get a jump on us and that we’d…what…come quietly?
“Let me fucking go,” he demanded.
Carven played with the honed tip of the blade. “Not until you tell us why the fuck you’re following us?”
There was a moment of rage before he glanced from Carven to me. “Fuck you.”
“Uh oh, brother.” Carven looked my way. “I think we have one of those assholes, you know, the ones who know all about being interrogated.”
He dragged the tip of the blade down his cheek. The asshole didn’t react, just held his stare with a look of defiance, right before Carven clenched his grip and drove the knife down, plunging it into his thigh all the way up to the hilt.
The guy bucked and reared, howling his agony until Carven slammed his hand across his mouth. His eyes were wild with rage. “You know all about us, right? Tell me, I wonder if in all your fucking knowing, did you find out we were a son?”
My stomach clenched as I watched the realization hit home.
A son…
If he knew anything, then he’d know exactly what that meant.
Born from a ghost. Raised in an orphanage. Tortured mentally and physically until it either broke us or created a monster…monsters just like us. Monsters London had saved.
The asshole shook his head as his eyes widened.
“So, I’m going to ask you one last time,” Carven growled as he pressed his hand harder over the guy’s mouth. “Who the fuck are you and why are you following us?” He slipped his hand free.
“Daniels…” The name spilled out instantly.
Carven glanced my way. “What about him?”
“He knows St. James was blackmailing Killion. He also knows that he was the one going to meet Killion that night. He’s going to expose him to the rest of The Order and he’s going to destroy him.”
Fear punched through me as my brother went utterly still, then quietly said. “Is that so?” He reached down, grasped the handle of the knife, and wrenched it free as the deadman howled in agony once more.
Because he was a dead man…there was no doubt about it.
When the screams and the death threats ended, the asshole just glared at us.
“Now. You’re going to tell us exactly what it is that Mr. Macoy Daniels knows…”
“Fuck you,” the asshole groaned as sweat beaded on his brow. “You’re going to kill me anyway.”
“Oh, that’s without a doubt. You were dead the moment you shoved a gun in my side and tried to make me sit in a car with my brother behind the wheel. The only question is…how long will it take. Will we kill you slowly as we draw it out for days, or do we kill you fast and end the agony?”
He looked up at my brother and desperation glinted in his eyes as his lips curled. He said nothing for a second, until defeat moved in and caused him to nod.
“That’s what I figured,” Carven muttered as he reached around for his gun. “Now talk.”
By the time the guy was done, my brother was deathly quiet as he stood over him.
Daniel’s didn’t know everything…
But he knew enough.
Enough to cause problems and get London killed.
“That’s all.” The guy shuddered and turned pale.
Blood had soaked through his pants and now trickled down his leg to pool on the floor under his boot.
“Just fucking leave me,” he muttered. “I’ll walk away. You’ll never hear from me again.”
Carven rose and lifted his gun.
“W-aait,” he stuttered. “I’ll tell you everything you want to know about Daniels.”
Carven just smiled and shook his head. “There isn’t a thing you can tell us we don’t already know,” he sighed, then pulled the trigger and ended the guy with a bang!
The deadman slumped forward, restrained by his bound hands.
“Fuck!” Carven snarled. “FUCK!”
This was bad. This was really fucking bad.
My brother reached for his phone, pulled it out, and stabbed the icon. “Yeah, it’s me.” He eyed the dead man. “We’ve got a problem, London. A really big fucking problem—”
