Chapter 3
3
COLT
Anger thrummed in my veins, a deep vibrating sensation that had my ears pounding as blood rushed through them. I wasn’t only furious at Jackson, who’d welcomed himself into my home without an ounce of remorse for what he’d done—that wasn’t a shock—but I was also mad at myself for letting fear take over.
I knew Quin, knew he wouldn’t do what my ex had, yet I’d reacted to that twisted panic anyway. It was me who’d driven him into getting in his car and leaving the house.
Growling in fury, I slapped the flat of my palm against the desk. “Motherfucker.”
“He’s pretty.”
My gaze shot up to Jackson, who leaned against the archway of the den, his mouth curled in a not so subtle smirk.
“Much prettier than Bethany.” He raised his eyebrows.
I grunted in answer. The thing about Jackson was that he never stayed around for long. He got in, got off, and then got out. He hadn’t come to my wedding to my ex and that had always been fine with me. Quin had never met him. Jackson was a troublemaker wherever he went, and even if he was in the same city as me, I preferred him to stay away.
We’d been close once, mostly when we were kids, but then life happened. Dad died, and we’d gone our separate ways. He only ever popped up when he wanted something, and the last time he’d needed money, he’d gotten more than that. He’d gotten my ex-wife’s pussy, too. I wasn’t going to be that naive when it came to him again. Not when it involved Quin, who I loved a hell of a lot more than Bethany.
“Why are you really here?” I grumbled, leaning back in my chair with a glare. My fingers twitched with the urge to reach into the top desk drawer and pull out my gun in warning. I didn’t, but only because I knew how disappointed in me Quin would be.
“I told you.” He straightened and strode into the den, his long legs eating up the space between us until he plopped into the chair in front of my desk. “I lost my job and need a place to crash until I can get back on my feet.”
Jackson was talented at lying, but I’d grown up with him. His tells were easy to spot. One of the main ones was how the pointer finger on his left hand twitched. He wasn’t aware, and I wasn’t going to enlighten him. It was easier to call his bluff.
“What aren’t you telling me?” My jaw clenched until it ached and I leaned forward, elbows on the smooth wood of my desk. “Don’t think for one second I won’t put you six feet under because you’re my brother.”
He rolled his eyes. “So dramatic.” Then, he grinned wide. “But good to know you’re still doing the whole bang bang gig.” He made finger guns and shifted them, taking imaginary shots. “I see Derek’s still got you by the balls. You know, you’re going to take the fall if he’s ever caught, right? I don’t trust that bastard.”
“And I don’t trust you, but here you are.” I tapped the desk. “So, tell me right the fuck now what you want so I can go on living my life with my wife.”
“Are you married yet?” He gave me another smile designed to disarm. Not a chance. “I didn’t get an invite this time.”
“And you won’t.” I gnashed my teeth together to prevent myself from reaching for that gun. “Stop evading the question. What did you do?”
He kicked his feet up on the edge of my desk. “It’s a funny story, really.”
“I doubt it,” I drawled.
“You remember I was working with Dad’s old friend, Topher. He’s a real hard-ass.”
How could I forget? Topher was the one who’d tried to convince Dad to beat us, and when Dad didn’t do it, Topher had accused him of being weak. The only reason Dad kept him around was because they’d been friends since high school.
“Yeah, well, the old goat might have caught me in a vulnerable position.” The right corner of his mouth kicked upward.
I didn’t have to work out what position he was talking about. “Who were you fucking?”
He laughed. Jackson never knew how to be sorry about his actions. Dad had ruined him in that way. As far as Dad was concerned, Jackson could do no wrong. He was the baby of the family. “His daughter.”
I blinked, not quite sure I’d heard him correctly. “Amber?”
His lips twitched.
“Fuck. Amber? She’s married and pregnant, Jackson. It’s not yours, is it?” I shot to my feet and pointed at him. “Your dick is what gets you into trouble every single time.”
He rocked his feet from side to side on the desk. “Eh. Don’t get your panties in a twist. The baby isn’t mine, and she was having marital problems anyway.”
“Didn’t her husband work with you?” I narrowed my eyes.
His rich laughter filled the room. “He did, yeah. He walked in after Topher. From what I heard, Tyler’s gonna stroll away with a lot of dough. There was a cheating clause in their prenup, and Tyler’s getting about ten mil from the old man because his daughter spread her legs for someone who wasn’t her husband.”
I blinked, weaving the threads of his deceitful nature together in my head until, finally, it all came together. “You were in on it with Tyler. You’re getting some of the cash.”
He shrugged. “When the divorce is done, yeah. I should get a couple mil.”
I bared my teeth at him. “You’re looking for ways to get yourself killed.”
“Making money comes with risks. There’s no significant difference between this and pouring hope into a venture startup portfolio.” He dropped his feet and stood to match my height, though he didn’t quite reach it. Crossing his arms, he grinned. “So, your wife convinced you to let me stay? How nice of him. Though, I don’t remember you being into dudes.”
I growled and stalked around to his side of the desk until we were nearly chest to chest. “You don’t know anything about me. Don’t pretend you give a damn.”
He tilted his head, the shit-eating grin affecting me more than I cared to admit. If there was anyone who could goad a reaction out of me, it was my younger brother. “It’s okay, Matt?—”
“Don’t fucking call me that.”
“Don’t be so sour. I’m not going to judge you. Hell, I’ve had a dude a few times. They’re different, an acquired taste if you ask me, but I dive into the temptations sometimes, too.”
I breathed heavily through my nose and shook my head. I poked his chest, causing him to take a few steps back. Good . I was the one in charge here, not him. “If you go near my wife, Jackson, I won’t just kill you. I’ll cut off your dick and feed it to the coyotes first, and I’ll make you watch. Then, I’ll take each limb off your body, one by one.” Pure hot anger raged inside me, twisting and knotting in my chest until it became hard to push air out of my lungs.
His smarmy attitude faltered and his smile wavered as he studied me carefully, and he knew I meant business. Brother or not, I’d do all those things to him.
“This is your first and only warning. Quin is off-limits.” I shoved him, and he tumbled back into the chair behind him. “You can stay, but only because Quin said you could. But remember what I said. Don’t talk to him.” I slammed my hands down on the chair’s arms, trapping him in the seat. He raised his chin, that familiar, teasing smirk planted on his lips again. “You will be polite and are only allowed to thank him when he makes food. You will respect him, but you will not make him uncomfortable. If I catch wind of you flirting with him, I will follow through with my promise. Am I clear?”
His eyes glimmered mischievously. “Sure thing, M?—”
“Don’t fucking call me that. You’ll call me Colt like everyone else. Only Quin gets to call me Matt.” I straightened and exhaled through the pounding sound of blood that rushed in my ears. “Now, fuck off.”
Jackson laughed low and stood. “What does he see in a bruiser like you?” He left quickly through the door before I could punch him. Lucky bastard.
I stalked back around my desk and grabbed my phone, immediately finding Quin’s name in it and tapping to call him. I went directly to voicemail, which meant he was more than pissed off with me, he was downright furious. I didn’t blame him. Jackson made me irrational at the best of times, and I’d taken it out on Quin. I knew where he would go, though, so I called Morgan next.
She answered with a “What the hell do you want?”
I winced. Shit . She was mad, too. I opened my drawer and grabbed the keys for my black Hummer before I headed out of the den toward the garage. I wasn’t going to let Quin stay away from me, angry or not. “Is he there?”
“Who?” I heard the roll of her eyes in her voice. “I don’t know who you’re talking about.”
“Morgan,” I warned in a low tone. “I want to speak to my wife.”
“ Maybe you should’ve talked to him when he was there instead of biting his head off and accusing him of being a thirsty slut, Colt. What the hell?”
Ouch. I was glad he had a friend like Morgan, but she didn’t make these moments easy. She was overprotective, the same as me, which came in handy. Except when I was the one who’d annoyed him. He’d never walked out this way, though.
“Can I talk to him?” I asked nicely.
“No,” she delivered as bluntly as only Morgan could. She didn’t take any shit from me, either, another reason I liked her and why she got along with Quin. She wasn’t just the best friend he needed, she was the one he deserved.
“Morgan . . . .”
“Yes, Colt?”
“Put him on the phone.” I unlocked the Hummer and leaped into the front seat.
“No, I can’t do that, honey. We’re busy right now.” Amusement tinged her voice, and behind her there was light laughter. Quin.
“Don’t make me come and get him,” I warned.
“I’d love to see you try.” The line went dead.
Growling in frustration, I threw my phone on the dashboard and hit the ignition.
The Hummer roared to life, the rumble of its engine working its way through my chest and soothing an ache that had begun to throb there. Guilt festered and multiplied as I thought back on my cruel and harsh words to Quin. I hadn’t meant to snap at him or accuse him of anything, but my nerves were always frayed around Jackson. He knew exactly what to do or say to strip away my barriers and stab me in my most vulnerable parts. He was my brother, yes, but he was also my greatest enemy. The one who enjoyed hurting me so he could see me bleed. Jackson had always had a sick sense of pleasure.
I punched the pedal on the Hummer and shot out of the driveway, heading in the direction of Morgan’s house. I didn’t allow myself to think about my brother. Thoughts like that would only open up more weakness, and I couldn’t allow it. I loved Quin too deeply to lose him to any fragility I had lingering below the surface.
I was his husband.
He deserved someone strong and competent.
I switched on the music, focusing on the thrum of a rock ’n’ roll beat. By the time I arrived at Morgan’s, I’d built up my firm sense of self again.
Morgan lived in a boxy home on the outskirts of New Gothenburg. Her husband was a real estate agent, and they were a modest couple who preferred a minimalist lifestyle, unlike me and my giant home. Outside was simply a path that led up to the white front door and a few shrubs. To the left was Morgan’s attempt at growing greenery, which consisted of a dead rose bush and a half-planted veggie garden.
The house itself was nice, though—it was brown brick with white trim. Two wide windows on either side of the door looked out to the front yard. Morgan’s face appeared behind one of the curtains, her mouth pressed in a thin line as I stalked toward her front door. She moved and threw the door open before I could reach it.
Arms crossed, she gave me an unimpressed stare, her cute round face crumpled into a scowl. “What do you want?”
“Where’s my wife?” I growled out, not missing a beat. I met her in an equal stance, and she had nothing on me. She barely reached my shoulders and was a slim little thing. Her husband was taller and muscular, but he was an ant compared to me, too. He also had the personality of a puppy. Morgan had bigger balls than he did.
“He’s mad and doesn’t want to talk to you.” She glared at me and flipped her brown hair off her shoulder, daring me to argue.
“Morgan, don’t make me push past you.” I stepped in closer. There was no threat to her because she was Quin’s best friend and I would never hurt her, but that didn’t mean I wouldn’t muscle my way into her home to find Quin.
“I dare you to try.” She attempted to shove my chest, but I didn’t budge an inch, which elicited a yell of frustration from her. “You big turd.”
I couldn’t help myself—I laughed. “Don’t make me ask again. I want to speak to my wife.”
She huffed and opened her mouth to argue, but Quin appeared at her side. Fresh streaks of tears and mascara stained his cheeks as he peered up at me in anger. His mouth twisted.
“What do you want, Matt? I don’t want to talk to you.”
My irritation slipped away, leaving behind a vulnerability I only allowed for Quin. He’d softened me in more ways than I’d have preferred. I wasn’t sure if he was aware of how much I would do for him, which was anything and everything. He’d quickly become my world, and I wanted to marry him and make him officially mine.
“Baby Girl, let me explain,” I whispered gently.
“Explain?” He laughed sadly. “You don’t trust me.”
“That’s not true, baby.” I reached out for him, and he let me take his hand. Dragging him closer, I raised his palm to my mouth and laid kisses over it. “I love you, Princess, and it’s not you I don’t trust. It’s Jackson.”
He stared, which I took as silent permission to continue.
Morgan rolled her eyes and left us, giving me the privacy I needed. The last thing I wanted to do was explain it all in front of someone else.
“He’s not a good person. I’m not, either, but he’s worse. He takes pleasure in my weaknesses.” I sighed. “Jackson is the only one who knows how to expose my vulnerabilities and use them against me. He’s always been calculating, manipulative, and charming. His idea of fun is ruining other people’s families. If he can tank a career, that’s a bonus. He gets off on it.” I frowned, not sure how to explain Jackson. I’d never met anyone quite like him, and I worked with murderers on a daily basis. “He has a way of getting someone to do something they usually wouldn’t. His words hold power. My brother is chaos itself. He is the kind of person who would stare straight into the sun for fun. Fuck. Jackson is both a sadist and a masochist, and I can think of a thousand more bad words to accurately describe him.”
“You said a lot but also nothing, Matt.” He cupped my face, his thumb stroking my cheek. “Tell me what you’re afraid of.”
When it came to Jackson? Everything. Oh, I’d kill him in an instant if I had to because I didn’t trust him, but with every breath he took, he wreaked havoc on lives. I left him alive while he avoided me, but he was too close to Quin right now, and he planned to stay .
“I don’t want him to get his claws into you, Baby Girl. You’re mine, and if he touched you, I’d have to kill him.”
“Don’t you trust me?” he whispered a little desperately, pushing up on tiptoe to place a kiss on the corner of my mouth. “I love you. I’m not going to hurt you.”
“Bethany said the same thing.” I closed my eyes and breathed in his fresh scent before I curled my arms around his waist and dragged him closer. His lithe body was warm against mine.
“I’m not her. You know that.” He wrapped himself around me and became my anchor. “I won’t let him manipulate me, Matt. You’re the man I chose.”
I wished I could believe that, but Quin didn’t know Jackson, had no idea what my brother was capable of doing. I’d lost too many people to his forked tongue. Instead of telling Quin any of that, I held him against me.
“Come home,” I begged quietly in his ear, kissing the arch. “I’m sorry, Princess.”
“You’ll have to make it up to me.”
I chuckled gently. “Anything you want, Lovebug. You say the word and it’s yours.”
“Oh, you’re going to regret that.”
I didn’t even care. I would burn the world down, if that was what he wanted, because if Jackson stared at the sun, Quin stared into the glow of the moon for the beauty of it. They were polar opposites, and Quin would never hurt me, unlike Jackson.