Chapter 9
9
COLT
“Want me to kill him?” Derek had asked earlier, and as tempting as it was, if anyone was going to slit my brother’s throat, it would be me.
I was finally on my way home from dealing with business issues, and I was ready to sleep. My body ached after the strenuous activities involved in killing a few guys who’d messed with us, and while Derek and I usually left it for the men in his employ, sometimes we had to make an example out of some assholes.
I managed to pull my Hummer into the driveway before my phone started buzzing. Sighing, I picked it up from the middle console and stared down at the unknown number. Usually, I ignored calls from people I didn’t know, but this time I had the inkling to answer it.
“Yeah?”
“Colt.” The familiar hoarse timbre of Topher, my father’s best friend, drawled through the line, and I held in the urge to sigh. I pressed my fingers against my forehead and massaged it, aware of the trouble already coming.
“Topher.”
“Where’s your brother?” Of course that would be his first question. I hadn’t spoken to Topher since my father’s funeral, but he knew what I did for a living, and I was very aware of the kind of people he worked with. We were more than happy to stay away from each other.
“Hello to you, too.” I added a teasing tone to my words, even though anger hummed in my chest at both Jackson and Topher.
“Where is Jackson?” He didn’t do small talk, and I’d once respected that.
I stared at the front door of my home and the window that looked into the living room. The curtains were closed, but lights burned. Shadows danced across the window, signaling someone was there. “I don’t know. Why do you think I’d have any idea where he is?”
Topher growled in irritation. “Don’t play dumb with me, boy. I know he’s with you. I have my own spies.”
“Why are you looking for him?” I asked, massaging my forehead harder to stave off the impending ache that had begun there. Jackson would only bring trouble, and this was the beginning.
“You know why. He fucked my daughter, and now her husband can get a payout from a divorce.” The sound of something smashing in the background—glass most likely—echoed in my ear. “Does he get any of my money, Colt?”
I was going to kill Jackson with my bare fucking hands. Topher wouldn’t have to worry about my brother after I was done with him. I grabbed the steering wheel and squeezed the leather tightly. “I have no clue what you’re talking about. Sorry to hear about your daughter.”
He laughed, his anger palpable. “You’re protecting him after what he did to you? I know he fucked your ex-wife. I know everything about what Jackson has done over the last few years. I can tell you when he took a shit.”
I exhaled and clenched my hand around the steering wheel again, wishing it was Jackson’s neck. “That’s very stalkerish of you, Topher. Have fun with that.”
“If you don’t send him to me, I will come and get him.” The fury in his voice rose, and the hair on my arms stood up, since I was aware of the danger Topher could bring with him. He wasn’t an innocent man. Far from it.
I clenched my teeth. Fuck, how much risk would this be for Quin? Jackson was a fucking dickhead for bringing this trouble to my doorstep. “Topher, I say this with respect for you being my father’s old friend, but if you come near my house, I will gut you.”
“You have forty-eight hours to turn him over, then I’ll come for him. I’ll deal with anyone who gets in my way.”
The call ended, leaving silence ringing in my ear. I pulled the phone away to stare at the black screen, terror shredding its way through me to join the rage that bubbled in the pit of my stomach.
I shoved open my door and slammed it closed again before storming toward the house. I stalked inside and headed straight to the living room, where I found Jackson lazing on the couch with Royal standing off to the side, an unimpressed expression on his face as he stared down at Jackson.
“Come on, big boy. Don’t be such a sourpuss.” Jackson laughed as he pointed at Royal. “You like dicks and asses, too, don’t you? You don’t have to lie.”
Royal smirked despite his clear irritation and crossed his arms. “Maybe, and if you belonged to me, I’d bend you over my knee and spank your ass red. Someone should.”
“You wish you could touch my ass, mountain man.” Jackson peered off to the side, and that was the moment his gaze settled on me. He sat up straighter and rested an arm along the back of the couch. “Hey, big bro. Finally home, huh? Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping your wife entertained.”
I gritted my teeth and exhaled loudly through my nose. Stepping into the living room, I stopped behind the couch and rolled my shoulders. “Enough with your crap, Jack. I’m this close to pounding your face in.” Especially because the familiar scent of Quin’s favorite perfume tickled my nose, and it came straight from Jackson. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe Quin would venture into that territory, but that didn’t mean the thrumming anger didn’t poison my veins and leak into my lungs. I was a man on the verge of doing something very stupid.
Jackson winked at me. “Your wife sure is sweet . I’d really like a taste.”
The invisible tether that kept me sane snapped and so did my temper. I jumped over the back of the couch and landed on Jackson. My vision became a gray haze, and he was the focus of all my fury. I raised my fist and slammed it into his nose. His head cracked backward, and I kept pounding my knuckles into his face, uncaring about the blood that splattered the couch.
“Fuck! Colt! Boss!”
I ignored Royal’s yell and focused on hammering my brother with one punch after another, all the fury fueling my attack. Blood screamed in my ears and the ache in my hand intensified.
I barely noticed the fast, hard footsteps across the wooden floor until I heard another yell, this one from Quin.
“My God! Matt! Get off him. Stop!”
My body’s reaction to Quin’s order was instantaneous. I shoved Jack against the couch one more time before I pushed to my feet and stared down at the mess I’d made of my brother. His entire face was bloodied, his bottom lip split, and his eyes were already swelling.
He groaned but still managed to grin at me with a bloody smile. “Nice to see you haven’t changed, Colt.”
My chest heaved in exertion as Quin came rushing around the couch to stand beside me with wide eyes. He wore a pale pink negligee, with a thin strap falling from his right shoulder, and he had white cream on his face. His hair was tied up into a messy bun, and it was obvious he’d been getting ready for bed.
“What did you do?” Quin’s lips shook as he glanced from Jackson to me. “Why did you hurt him? He didn’t do anything.”
It was difficult to stay angry around Quin. He was too kind for this world, and he was my world. He’d been hurt too much in his life already, and I didn’t want to add to it. If my hands and shirt weren’t covered in my brother’s blood, I would’ve brought him against me into a tight hug.
I closed my eyes for a second to gather my wits while Royal stepped closer to Jackson with a box of Kleenex he’d picked up from the coffee table in front of the couch. He passed the box to Jackson, but I doubted the tissues would help. Jack needed a first aid kit.
Or a hospital.
He glared at Royal as he snatched the box from him.
I ignored Quin’s questions, instead focusing on my brother. “Do you have any idea what you’ve done?” I curled my fingers into fists at my sides. “In your stupidity of playing Topher and his daughter, you’ve put my wife in danger.” I inhaled deeply, pushing aside the urge to punch him again. “Topher called me. He gave me forty-eight hours to hand you over before he comes for you.” I shifted forward, but Quin hooked his hand around my arm, stopping me from physically assaulting Jack again. “He’s not a man to mess with, you fucking moron. He has resources, and he’s dangerous. And you put the man I love at risk so you could net a small hustle.”
Jackson snorted, blood spurting from his nose as he did. He grabbed a tissue and shoved it up his nostril, wincing. “Fuck off. He wouldn’t mess with you. He’s not stupid.”
I shook my head. I’d thought Jackson had some sense in that manipulative brain of his, but now I was questioning it. “I might be in a partnership with Derek, but that doesn’t mean we’re safe. Topher doesn’t mess around when it comes to his money. Fuck!”
I turned my back on him to stop myself from surging forward again, and I stared down at Quin’s concerned expression. He smiled sadly up at me, and I cupped his face, blood be damned. I slanted my mouth over Quin’s and kissed him gently, drinking in his taste and the comfort that came with his scent tickling my nose. He was my safe space, and my foolish brother had put him in danger.
By the time I was done, the blood sprinkled across my face had mixed in with the cream on Quin’s, while he’d shared the mess to my upper lip and chin.
I sighed against Quin’s lips, wiped the cream off my face, and glanced over my shoulder at Jackson.
An emotion close to regret flashed in his eyes—but it disappeared—and confidence replaced it. He stood from the couch, and despite the swelling of his face and the blood to go with it, he looked like a man who had everything swimming along as planned, which it most definitely was not.
“You know what your problem is?” I stepped up to Jack, and Quin made a small sound of worry. “You never reap the consequences of your actions. You run before you experience them or you have someone else fix your problems.” I laughed, the anger bubbling over again. “And I was one of those idiots who fixed your issues for you, but this is the last time. I’ve never loved anyone with my whole heart, never cared about anyone enough to worry about their life, but I have Quin now. He comes first. He will always come first.” I poked Jackson’s chest. “This is the end of the line for us.”
Jackson glared at me for a long moment, the facade of his charm gone. Instead, coldness stared back. This was the real Jack, the one who didn’t understand, couldn’t comprehend the meaning of feelings. He understood that I was his brother, that society expected him to have an emotional tie to me, but everything centered around him and how I could benefit his life. His manipulation and fake charisma came from years of practice and watching others. I didn’t know if he was a sociopath or if his lack of comprehension came from the absence of affection as a child—sometimes it felt like the real Jack was hidden beneath an aloofness. How could I get past the ice wall?
“You’d choose Quin over me?” He glanced at Quin, then me, from beneath swollen eyelids.
“Yes,” I answered without hesitation. “Any day, any time, any place.”
“He’s the son of a world-class grifter, Colt. There’s an endgame to what he’s doing.” Jackson leaned in closer and grinned, red-stained teeth flashing at me. “I’m your brother. I have your back, he doesn’t.”
“The same brother who slept with my ex-wife?” I raised my eyebrows. “You’ve given me reason to hate you, Quin hasn’t.”
Royal frowned between us, but I ignored him.
“I love Matt.” Quin curled his arm around my elbow and narrowed his pretty hazel eyes at Jack. “And no matter how much you want to believe it, I’m not conning him.”
Jackson chuckled, some of the blood spitting out from between his lips. “Sure thing, sweetheart, keep telling him that.”
“Enough,” I snapped, gnashing my teeth together. “Fucking enough. We’re done here. You will not speak to my wife like that.” I pointed a finger at Jack. “You can stay here until we figure out what to do with you. I’ll find you a safe place to hide until Topher stops looking for you, but then we’re done. I’m done with you, Jack.” I sliced my hand through the air in front of us. “You’ve put me and my wife in danger, and I wouldn’t care as much if I lived alone, but I love Quin. I won’t let any harm come to him because you’re a loose cannon. Get upstairs and get in the shower. You’re a fucking mess. There’s a first aid kit in the guest bathroom.”
Jackson’s eyes burned a hole in me for a moment before he took a step back and spun on his heel, stalking out of the living room and toward the stairs.
I sighed, squeezing the bridge of my nose, then hissed when a sharp pain shot across my knuckles and down my arm. The adrenaline had worn off, and the scrapes and cuts on my hand from the punches I’d unleashed on Jackson were beginning to ache.
“You’re hurt,” Quin whispered, shifting to stand in front of me and grab my hand in a gentle caress. He brushed his thumb over my knuckles, and I winced. His gaze shot up to meet mine and tears flooded his eyes. “I’m so sorry, Matt. This is my fault.”
I blinked, confused. “How is this your fault, Baby Girl?”
“He wouldn’t have stayed here if I didn’t insist.”
I shook my head. “He would’ve. He’s my brother, and as much as I hate to say it, I have a weakness for him no matter how much I protested and argued.” I dropped my forehead against his and clenched my eyes shut. “He relied on me when we were younger, and being his protector isn’t something I can forget.”
“You love him,” he murmured, caressing my jaw with his fingers.
I laughed. “He’s Jackson. I don’t trust him, and everything I said was true, and I don’t want him around you, but he’s my little brother.”
“Then, he can stay.” Quin pushed up on tiptoe and kissed my cheek. “We’ll make it work.”
“No,” I argued immediately. “He needs to go. Topher will come looking for him, and he’ll target you if he thinks we’re getting in the way of him finding Jackson. Topher wants revenge. He’s out a lot of cash.”
“Who is he?”
I shook my head. “I’ll tell you everything, but we need to go get cleaned up.”
Royal cleared his throat, and my attention shot to him. I’d completely forgotten he was still standing near the couch. “May I make a suggestion, Boss?”
I waved my hand. “Go ahead.”
“He can stay with me.” Royal crossed his arms over his wide chest, and the grin stretching across his mouth had me curious. There was a wickedness in his expression, and Royal never came up with a bad idea. “He’ll be safe from this Topher guy, and I can teach him a few lessons about respect.”
“Teach him?” Quin’s nose scrunched. “Hurting him won’t help.”
Royal chuckled. “There’s more ways to teach someone than hurting them, Quinny.”
It’d become a thing to call Quin that. Derek had given Quin the nickname and now Royal used it, too, and I accepted it because both men adored my wife. I had no doubt that they’d protect him.
“He’s manipulative, cold, and knows how to charm people to get what he wants.” I cocked my head toward Royal. “Think you can handle him and keep him at your place? Give him the chance, and he’ll flee. You have to keep your wits sharp at all times.”
Royal winked. “I know a thing or two about keeping the boys around.”
I scratched my cheek, and the stickiness of my brother’s blood buried itself under my fingernails. Sighing, I stared down at the deep red liquid splattered across my tattooed skin. I’d never cared about a little gore, but this came from Jackson. “Let me think about it.”
Royal nodded and stood straighter. “Yes, sir. Should I leave?”
“Yeah.” I grabbed his elbow before he could make it past me. “Do some digging into Topher Harris from Harris Financial. I want to know everything about him and what he’s been up to over the last ten years. Everything. Get the guys on it.”
Royal tilted his head. “Yes, sir.” He sent a smile toward Quin before he walked past us, out of the living room, then out of the house. The headlights from his car cast odd shadows in the living room through the curtains as he left the driveway.
Quin brushed his palm over my chest and frowned at the red splattered shirt I had on. “Come on, Husband, let me help you shower and clean up, okay? Then, you can tell me everything.”
I hummed in acknowledgement and grasped his face between my hands, kissing him hard on the mouth, uncaring of the cream that would get on me. He was everything to me, and I’d die before I let anyone hurt him, especially Topher. I’d make sure he was buried six feet under before he could come anywhere near Quin.
Or hell , near Jackson, too.