Chapter 10
DEX
The sound of tires on gravel had me looking up from my desk. I couldn’t help the pull of my attention, the need to get a look and find out just a little more about my neighbor. I didn’t want to even think about how much time I’d spent scrolling her photos.
Or the number of times I’d replayed our encounter at the Boot.
God, she was pure fire. A hellion, honestly.
The truth was, I was worried she’d become an addiction.
But I hadn’t given in to the urge to dig deeper.
I hadn’t run a background check or looked into her financials or personal communications.
It would’ve been so easy. But wrong. And risky.
Still, I let myself take the look I wanted now. Turning around, I watched out the cabin’s front windows as she let the beast dog and her son out of the SUV. The little boy practically leapt from the vehicle, making the dog bark and the woman laugh.
Brae.
Making Brae laugh. I had her first name. And her last. I could plug them into a simple search engine and—nope. No. No. No.
Brae’s head lifted as though she sensed someone watching her. Long, blond hair caught on the breeze as she glanced around, her focus landing on my cabin. There was no way she could see me, given how we were both angled, but I swore she looked right at me.
She tugged a plump, berry-pink lip between her teeth and took a step toward my cabin before stopping. She shook her head, talking to herself as she did, then turned around and headed toward her own cabin.
Disappointment flared. And why the hell was that? I didn’t need to get mixed up with a neighbor, in any way, shape, or form. They were too close. Had the potential to see too much. And I had more important things to focus on.
But I couldn’t help but wonder why she’d been tempted to walk my way. Another verbal sparring session? Did she need something? It wasn’t like people borrowed a cup of sugar these days. Maybe she needed someone to let her wild beast out while she was at work.
My phone dinged, making me realize I’d been staring at the place where Brae had been, even though she was gone.
“Get a grip,” I muttered as I swiped up my phone and saw a group chat name flash.
Maverick has changed the name of the group to 50 Shades of Slay.
I scowled at the screen. This was Mav’s way, making light of anything serious, taking trauma and laughing in its face. But not everyone in our brotherhood felt the same.
Kol
What the hell is wrong with you?
Maverick
Where do you want to start? So damn good-looking I can’t get through the day without a woman hitting on me?
Me
Head so big it makes it hard to fit through doors?
Maverick
I mean, my dick is so big it can make it hard to walk.
Wylder
Dude. TMI.
Kol
Someone change the name back.
It was a toss-up who would hate Mav’s group name more, Kol or Orion. But Orion had been mostly silent in our brother chat lately. And I worried about what that meant.
Wylder
I dunno. It’s kind of funny.
Me
Your lack of tech know-how is truly terrifying to me. Where did I go wrong?
Kol
Fuck off, computer nerd.
I laughed but took pity on him and changed the group name back to what it had been before: Hot Sauce & Hot Goss.
Maverick
Second-best group name, but I’ll take it. This text is to tell Orion that his brother has returned from his sentence with the FBI and that his presence is required at family dinner tonight.
No texts came in for a moment, and that earlier worry intensified. Orion had ended up the most changed after that night nineteen years ago. He’d paid the highest price. And it had been to save the rest of us.
Orion
Working.
Orion had a gift when it came to mapmaking. His creations were infinitely unique, no one exactly like the other, and their uniqueness was only matched by their intricacy. So, it was no wonder people paid high into the six figures for each one.
Maverick
You’re always working, asshole. But you also have to eat. So stop whatever project you’re on for an hour and come see your family. If you don’t, I’ll let Dex hack all your devices and turn every alert to the Hannah Montana theme song.
Me
I’m not your weapon, Mav.
Wylder
And don’t diss “The Best of Both Worlds.” It’s a bop.
Kol
You’ve been watching reruns with Skylar again, haven’t you?
Wylder
Miley Cyrus should’ve gotten an Oscar for that performance.
I barked out a laugh.
Me
You should start a letter-writing campaign.
Wylder
Maybe I will.
Orion
If you shut up, I’ll come for an hour.
Maverick
VICTORY IS MINE.
Me
I think it’s actually Miley’s.
Maverick
I can share the crown with her.
Orion
Turning off my phone.
And he would. Silence was Orion’s preferred state of being. No music. No talking. And certainly not the sound of his own voice.
Working alongside the Behavioral Analysis Unit on case after case, I’d gotten to know shrinks who had unique insights into the human mind. Some of them were snobby, thinking us techies were beneath them. But others were good people. And my friend, Anson, had been the best.
He’d given me more than my fair share of psychological education. And as I put the pieces together, I realized that all of my brothers and I had a version of PTSD. But Orion’s was the most severe. Now, any stimuli could end up being too much for him.
A shout—sharp and fast—caught my attention. I instinctively looked out the window, expecting to see Brae and her son. The shout had sounded like the little boy—Owen. I’d heard Brae call him in for dinner. But I didn’t see him anywhere now. Brae either.
And it was quiet. Too quiet.
I didn’t wait. I grabbed the Taser I’d stashed behind my computer and strode out the back door.
Unease slid through me as I crossed the open space between the two cabins. Everything was still. Not even a breeze rustled the tall grasses at the edge of the creek.
My fingers tightened around my Taser, and for a second, I wondered if I should get my 9mm from the gun locker in my SUV. Even thinking of retrieving the weapon had nausea rolling through me. Because those weapons killed. I knew that better than most.
Taser. That was good enough. Protection without fatality.
But a million what-ifs swirled in my mind as I crept closer to cabin number two. Each possibility was worse than the one before, the price of all the dark places I’d investigated over the years. I reached the side of the cabin, pressing my back to the wall and listening.
Wind. A bird. Rustling.
I stiffened, poised for whatever might come. The sounds moved closer. I didn’t wait.
I surged around the corner, only to be hit square in the chest. The impact stung and then instantly exploded, soaking the front of my shirt with…water?
My gaze dropped to my now-soaked tee and then met the jaw-dropped Brae standing in front of me.
Her hand flew to her mouth, her amber eyes wide.
She was soaked. Her blond hair was stuck to her face in places, mascara ran beneath her eyes, and her white T-shirt was plastered to her body, her nipples pebbled, pressing against the fabric, and—
Shit.
I jerked my focus upward just as Brae dropped her hand from her mouth.
“I’m so sorry. I thought you were Owen. I didn’t—” She shook her head. “What are you doing here?”
The scowl came to my mouth on instinct. “I heard a scream,” I gritted out.
Brae winced and gave me a little shrug as she pointed to her shirt. “It was me. Owen’s got surprisingly good aim for an eight-year-old.”
My gaze dropped just for a second before I forced it up again. No wet T-shirts. No nipples. Just, no.
“You shouldn’t scream,” I gritted out. “I could’ve called the cops.”
Brae’s lips twitched, the action drawing my eyes there now. The way they were almost stained red as if she’d been devouring raspberries. How they curved when she smiled, one side just a bit higher than the other. “But you didn’t call the cops,” she challenged.
“I could’ve,” I clipped. “And you might’ve been arrested for disturbing the peace.”
A laugh bubbled out of her throat, husky and just a little bit raw. She held out her hands. “Cuff me, Officer. I dared to yell when hit by a water balloon.”
All sorts of images flew through my mind at the words cuff me, none of which should’ve been there. Fuck.
“I could call them now. Feels like this qualifies as assault with a deadly weapon.”
“A water balloon is a deadly weapon now?”
“Could be when you’re wielding it.” Because she was hell on wheels.
Brae really laughed then, and the sound hit me square in the chest. The vibrations it carried moved through me like a wave of waking up.
She laughed like she was truly free—a laugh that reached from the tips of her toes to the top of her head, and I couldn’t remember the last time I’d let myself feel something so completely.
“You’re funny, Buttercup,” Brae managed through her laughter.
My scowl was back. “Buttercup?”
She smiled so widely that it lit up her whole face, turning those amber eyes gold. “It fits your sunny personality.”
“Fuck me,” I muttered.
That only made Brae’s grin bigger. “Come on, live a little. Haven’t you ever wanted to have a water balloon fight to celebrate the start of summer? A little mischief might be good for you. It’s a reminder that we’re alive.”
There was something beneath her words. A depth to them. It’s a reminder that we’re alive. It only raised more questions. Had there been a time when she thought she wouldn’t be alive? Had she lost someone? One thought spiraled into another until a Tarzan-like cry split the air.
“You’re going down!” Owen yelled.
A water balloon landed directly on the back of Brae’s head, dousing the rest of her. She let out a comical, mock-pain yelp and then turned, stumbling toward her son. “I’ve been hit.”
“Death blow,” Owen said with a toothy grin.
Brae grabbed him in her arms, taking them both to the ground and rolling as the beast dog ran around the side of the cabin, letting out a happy bark and joining in on the fun. Owen laughed as Brae tickled his sides. “That’s cheating!”
“I’ve gotta use all the weapons at my disposal.”
Owen laughed harder until he finally escaped his mom’s grasp and scrambled to his feet, staring up at me with curiosity in his green gaze. “Did you come to play, too?”
Brae grinned, leaning back on her hands in the grass, soaking wet from head to toe. “Yeah, Dex. Did you come over to play? Or are you running scared?”
Some part of me wanted to join in. To grab a water balloon and chase them both around the yard. To remember what it was like to laugh as freely as they did. But I couldn’t.
“I’ve got a thing,” I said dumbly. As if that was an explanation. But it was all I could manage. Until I saw the disappointment on Owen’s face.
I leaned down, speaking in a stage whisper. “I saw her secret stash of balloons by the planter. Give her hell.”
A huge smile stretched across Owen’s face as he ran for the balloons.
Brae scrambled to her feet. “You’re a traitor, Buttercup!”
“That’s what you get for calling me Buttercup,” I yelled back.
But I stayed there for a moment longer than I should’ve, watching the battle rage. The pure joy on both their faces. The part of me that wanted to reach for it flared again, but I knew I couldn’t.
Because opening yourself up to the good meant you had to open yourself up to the bad just as much. And that wasn’t something I could risk. Not with all the demons swirling in my past.