Chapter 10 #2
Rolling to a seated position, he rests an arm on a bent knee and stares at me intently.
“I know you have a foul mouth and an arsenal of takedown moves. I know you used to dance ballet. I know you cover up discomfort with anger. And I know you’ve experienced far too much heartache for any soul to carry. ”
My fingers dig into my jeans as pain swells in my chest. With a shake of my head, I reply, “None of that has anything to do with you.”
His expression darkens. “As much as you feel an obligation to challenge these shitheads on your own, you’re not alone.
I’m not saying you have to stay here, though you should.
However, if you won’t take my gun, then expect to see me or my employees outside your window every night until SIXX are dead.
I’m not fucking around when it comes to your safety. ”
I shake my head. “You don’t even know me.”
He doesn’t say anything, which makes me feel even more like shit for my rudeness.
Shoving to my feet, I stride past him and out the front door. My pulse kicks faster as I look around for an escape. There’s an elevator to my right. I hurry inside it, jamming my finger on the button to close the doors.
“Come on. Come on.”
A hand slips between them before they shut, and I fight back a scream of rage as Rev steps in with me. He hits the button for one of the lower levels while tugging a leather jacket over a white T-shirt.
We ride down in silence. I don’t have the energy to fight him anymore. Nothing I say seems to intimidate him anyway.
When the doors open to a parking garage, he guides me over to a silver truck riddled with bullet holes. My stomach flips.
“Was this…”
“SIXX? I wish I could kill them again for it.”
It’s sitting on my tongue to apologize for his damaged property. I’m not sure how insurance works in these situations. Do they cover bullet holes from gang activity?
Odd for the COO of a company to drive something so…common.
Rev walks over to his truck, and I follow cautiously. “So…what are you? Like…I mean, what do you really do here?”
He cocks a brow back at me. “Didn’t you read my business card?”
“Is it normal for a security company to kill criminals?”
Rev’s eyes glint as he opens the passenger door of his truck for me. “Our little secret? Sinro is teeming with decorated mercenaries.”
I blink at him a few times. Then I hop into his truck, grimacing at the jolt of pain in my shoulder. As he gets in and starts up the rumbly engine, I struggle to mentally flesh out this new, darker piece of information about Sinro.
“So, Forest is…?”
Rev glances over at me with a blank expression. “One of the best. And a big sweetheart.”
Jesus. Does the city know what this company gets up to?
The cold temp in the truck cabin nips through my clothes, causing me to shiver.
“Do you want my jacket?” Rev asks.
“Rather freeze,” I mumble.
Though the idea of taking his scent home with me has me almost caving.
He chuckles. “Still feisty, stab wound and all.”
The drive home is silent, no radio noise to mask the tension between us. He doesn’t seem bothered, so maybe it’s just me struggling with nerves.
Laz’s beat-up red SUV is parked against the curb when we roll up. As I hop out of Rev’s truck and slam the door, Laz bursts onto the porch.
“Manito,” Laz says in relief, hooking an arm around my head and pulling me closer to kiss my hair. “Lo siento mucho. La jodí. Te fallé.”
My eyes burn with tears. Part of me aches to fall into my brother’s comfort, but I still haven’t fully forgiven him. I don’t know that I ever will.
I quickly tug my hood up. “You didn’t. I’m okay. Really.”
We won’t mention the stitches in my back.
As I wriggle out of his hold, Laz grips my shoulders, eyes roving over my bruised-up face. “Did you get a good look at them? They won’t touch you again. I swear to you I’ll make sure of it.”
Grimacing, I dip out of his reach. “Don’t talk like that.”
Stalking up the front porch, I slip inside without a word of thanks to Rev. When Laz doesn’t immediately follow me, I peek out the bay window, only to find my brother shaking hands with the COO of Sinro Enterprises.
Somehow, this silver-haired fox keeps working his way deeper into restricted territory.
The contrast of my brother in his unlaced, steel-toed work boots, ripped cargo pants, and an oversized coat from a thrift shop next to Rev in his simple but designer-styled clothes has me snorting and shaking my head.
No way he’s winning over Laz.
I pound a fist on the window to break up their conversation. Both of them glance at me but continue chatting, seemingly unfazed by my attitude.
I’m not sure I could do anything to push Laz away. The thought terrifies me, especially now that I’ve drawn enemies to our home. More than my need to end SIXX, I can’t lose Laz. My fear might be enough to give in to Rev and let him do what he’s obviously skilled at.
Killing.
But there would be conditions. Conditions I don’t have the energy to discuss with him right now because I feel like he’d want to sit down and talk about it over a stupid fucking cup of coffee, and I’m not strong enough for that. So, our conversation will have to wait.
Eventually, Laz comes inside and shuts the door.
“What the fuck was that about?” I scowl.
“It’s called manners, manito.” Laz shucks off his boots. “I was thanking him for looking out for you.”
“Yeah? Well, it was against my will.”
My brother crosses his arms over his broad chest as he levels me with a look. “Was it? So you’re not with that man?”
Horror steamrolls over me. “Is that what he told you?”
Laz hefts a shoulder up. If I tell my brother that Rev’s a low-key stalker, Laz will turn around and murder him in his truck before he drives off. If I admit that I’m thinking about working with Rev to hunt SIXX, Laz will flip shit that I’m endangering myself.
Is it best to leave my brother assuming I’m in some sort of relationship with the man?
A lump forms in my throat. I haven’t been this transparent with Laz since we were little.
“It’s cool, you know. Viejo knew you were gay,” Laz says.
Those unshed tears come out to play again, stinging in my eyes. “Yeah?”
Laz walks over to ruffle my hair. “Yeah.”
After a pause, I ask, “Was it the dancing?”
“Nah. It’s the way you turn colors and get flustered around cute guys.”
Red-hot with embarrassment, I rush for the stairs. “We don’t speak of this again.”
“Whatever you say, manito.”