Chapter Six #2
“His brother. Craig.” He eyed Colton with interest. “And you are?”
Not someone you want as an enemy.
“None of your business.” Zack slapped at Colton’s back. “Can you move your massive body? It’s blocking…everything.”
Colton didn’t budge an inch. Gods, Craig’s posture practically oozed teeth. For a guy barely clearing Colton’s collarbone, Craig had that cocky, I-dare-you-to-touch-me air—the kind that made it so tempting to give him a one-way ticket to the ER.
Another jab to the ribs from Zack finally did the trick. Colton allowed himself a few seconds to glare down at the scrawny bastard on the other side of the threshold, memorizing the look in his beady eyes. Craig didn’t even flinch under the scrutiny. That smile? It was pure bullshit.
As soon as Colton stepped away, a low, vibrating growl threatened to escape him. He let Zack slip past, but not more than half a step separated them. If anything started, Colton was ready to drag that bastard Craig back down the stairs by his ankles.
Warm air drifted in from the apartment hallway, mingling with dryer-sheet perfume and faint cigarette stink clinging to Craig’s clothes. Heat radiated from the concrete landing, baking into every breath. Zack angled his body, never quite letting go of the doorframe.
“Craig,” Zack said, trying to sound happy about the visit and missing by three blocks. “What brings you back?”
Fake laughter bubbled out of Craig before he flicked his gaze at Colton. “Can’t a brother pay a social call?” His voice was light. Sharp edge under all that syrup. “Heard you were keeping odd company these days.”
Not once did Zack invite him inside. Colton noticed it. Craig did too. Both of them lingered right there, polite as a funeral, but the tension was as thick as the air in a laundromat basement.
Maybe it was the way Zack’s hand curled up, gripping his own wrist. Or the way he kept one shoulder half-turned, like he might bolt any second. Slight tremor in his mate’s fingers. Not shaking, but not steady, either. Colton’s panther wanted to rip that brother to pieces.
Polite distance didn’t fool Colton for a second.
“Just finished a shift,” Zack managed, voice tight. “Usually I take a break after, but hey. Good to see you.”
Colton kept his arms folded, pretending not to listen, but there wasn’t a chance in hell he was missing a single word.
Craig flicked a lazy look over Colton, like a man sizing up a big dog chained on the porch. “New boyfriend, huh? Do I have to call you Big Daddy, or you stick with your real name?”
Colton’s lips curled. “Neither.”
“Big Daddy it is.” Craig grinned, all fake charming. “I guess you’re the reason Zack started eating food that costs more than a dollar a pound.”
Biting back a retort, Colton clenched his jaw. He didn’t trust himself to talk without threatening the piece of shit.
Zack attempted to smooth out the tension. “Craig likes to joke about my cooking.”
“Gets me free food.” Craig’s gaze never left Colton, not even for a second. “Bro’s always had a bleeding heart. Sucker for a sob story.”
The jabs were a little too obvious. Guy was determined to learn anything about Colton.
“No stories here.” Zack moved until his body blocked the rest of the view of the apartment, as if Craig would snake his way past. “Everything’s good.”
Colton caught the twitch at the corner of Zack’s mouth. Which was definitely a lie.
Craig shrugged. “So, you two fucking yet, or are we still pretending my brother’s a prude?”
Red flooded across Zack’s cheeks. “That’s none of your business!”
“Thin ice, my guy,” Colton warned, hand twitching to swipe that smugness off Craig’s face.
With razor-sharp claws.
Craig tilted his head. “He’s cute when he’s flustered.” The guy jabbed a thumb at Zack. “Never could take a joke. Never could handle the rough stuff.”
For one split second, Colton wondered if he’d be quick enough to catch Craig before he ran screaming. He wanted to find out.
“Well, we’re busy.” Zack gripped Colton’s arm, like he was stopping Colton from going full murdercat in the hallway. “Maybe talk later?”
Craig stepped back, arms wide. “Yeah, sure. Don’t want to interrupt any longer.” He winked, slow and mocking. “Hey, Big Daddy, take good care of my little bro, yeah? He’s delicate.”
Oh, the son of a bitch was asking to die a slow and painful death. Colton had never used so much restraint in his life. Even his panther yowled to kill the idiot.
Right there at the landing, before strutting off, Craig lifted two fingers to his brow in a salute. “Later, pricks.” The smugness was oily, sticking in the air long after he’d slithered down the steps.
Colton watched his every move, eyes narrowed, brain already working out the best way to dump a body if necessary. Some people were just trouble. Some people were predators. But whatever Craig was up to, he had no clue what real danger looked like. Colton would gladly enlighten him.
Silence returned as the door thudded closed. The heat and that weird, burned-rubber smell from the building’s pipes pressed in harder now, no more fresh air to cut the staleness.
Zack took two steps, then flopped on the couch. No lamps were on. Gold slashes of late light painted the rug and illuminated every scuff on the coffee table. Blues and pinks from the sunset bled through the faded blinds.
On the couch, Zack sagged into the cushions and let out a breath. His hand automatically went to his wrist, thumb working circles into the bruised skin like he didn’t know he was doing it.
Colton stalked after him, never breaking stride.
“You want to talk about it?” His voice was low. No push, just an offer.
“Not tonight.” Zack’s eyes drifted lower. “It never goes anywhere good.”
That was a truth written straight across his entire body.
Colton fought the urge to pace. The urge to stalk that brother down in the parking lot and end the problem for good. Instead, he settled on the couch, making sure Zack didn’t have to look far to see him. His mate kept that injured wrist sandwiched between his knees, head hanging down.
Outside, the noises from the street came and went. Distant shouts. A door slamming. High-pitched buzz of summer cicadas, like someone was dragging a chainsaw through the tree out front.
Colton memorized the way his mate’s entire frame had locked tight when Craig was around.
How polite his mate sounded, even though his smiles never reached his eyes.
How Craig never once mentioned a reason for dropping by.
Just rattled the cage, then left. Colton would bet anything the bastard was circling for another round.
Not a word slipped out for a couple minutes. Neither of them spoke. Zack just sat there, twisting the skin on his wrist, while Colton kept every sense tuned to the sounds beyond the door.
“He’s not what you’d call subtle.” Colton finally let the words break the quiet.
A small huff, almost a laugh, escaped Zack. “Nope. He’s never done subtle. Or boundaries. Or compassion. But I’m used to it.” His voice was flat, no emotion, like he’d had this conversation a thousand times in his head and only now was reading the transcription out loud.
Not for the first time, Colton wished he could dig up every bruise on Zack’s body and hand it back to that scrawny fuck.
“Let me know if you want me to handle him.”
Blue eyes flicked over for a second, then away. “I’ve tried handling Craig my whole life. You think you’re strong enough to make a dent, you’re welcome to try.”
Colton took the invitation as gospel. If it came down to it, he’d break every bone in Craig’s body, snap the guy like a pencil. But he would never push Zack to talk about something he didn’t want to share.
No more talk for a while.
Colton sank back, cursing Craig’s interruption. Joy no longer brightened his mate’s face. For that alone Colton despised the brother.
“You mind if I tell my friends? About Craig.” He studied his mate’s face, watching for any flicker of unease.
Instead, Zack’s brows furrowed. “Why?”
“Added safety. More eyes on the situation.”
Zack shifted slightly, his fingers still stroking the same bruised spot. He seemed lost in his thoughts, then slowly nodded. “Fine. Tell your friends. Craig’s gonna do what Craig always does anyway.”
“He’s going to come back, isn’t he?”
A tired laugh slipped out. “He always comes back. No matter where I move, he finds me.”
That might be true, but just like tonight, Craig wouldn’t get whatever he wanted. Not anymore.
“You do realize you’re no longer alone in this, Blue. I promised you were safe. That includes off my bike as well.”
“I had a feeling you were hinting at more when you said it.” Zack bit his bottom lip.
“It’s just hard to believe someone actually wants to stick by my side after dealing with Craig my whole life.
Not even my parents defended me, claiming Craig was just a rough-and-tumble guy.
” Zack played with a loose thread on his shirt.
“I sometimes think they were just as frightened of him.”
Late sunlight crept higher on the wall, highlighting a water stain. Something metallic rattled on the street below, then silence slid in.
“Hey.” Colton set his palm gently over Zack’s knee, grounding both of them. “You ever need to just get away, or if he ever does something that frightens you, I can deal with it. You just say the word, sweetheart.”
A thin smile ghosted across Zack’s lips. “That offer goes for everything, or just homicide?”
Colton shrugged, mouth curling into a wolfish grin. “Whatever you need.”
Yeah. He meant it. No more Zack getting wrung out by assholes.
Some of the tension bled out of his mate’s posture.
Conversation drifted in and out, nothing deep, a little gossip, a little work. Zack, for all his heartbreak, still joked about Colton’s appetite, about his tree-trunk arms and murdercat skills. His mate refused to stay sad for long.
Heat outside faded as the sun set. The fan whirred lazily overhead, catching the smell of takeout from somewhere in the building. Zack’s gait evened out, moving freer, but every so often his fingers sought out his wrist, rubbing the bruised skin.
Colton’s gaze never wavered from that spot.
“You should ice that.”
Zack cast him a side-eye. “What’s the point? It’ll fade. They always do.”
Always do. This wasn’t his mate’s first attack.
“Maybe let me kiss it better, then.”
Zack barked a real laugh, head tossed back, lips parted wide. “Jesus, what are you, my grandma? Is that how you woo all the guys? Put on an apron and serve up kisses?”
Banter seemed to be Zack’s shield, but Colton didn’t mind. “Shut up and get over here.”
Instead of fighting, Zack just slid closer, surrendering the wrist. Under Colton’s touch, the skin buzzed warm and alive, thumping softly where the blood had pooled.
Colton pressed his lips gently to the bruise. One kiss, then two.
Surprise flickered in Zack’s eyes, but he said nothing. He just let Colton hold his hand, thumb running over the bones, until the world narrowed to that small circle of comfort.