Chapter 5
“Well, well, well,” Sebastian Seaver said twenty minutes later, opening the door to Drew McMann’s sprawling Colonial like he owned the place. “This is an unexpected Saturday morning treat.”
Cain could say the same. Bas had one arm propped against the edge of the door in a way that displayed his impressive height, the lean muscles in his arms, and the hard, hairy line of his abs that peeked out from beneath his rattyHarvard Crewt-shirt. His brown hair was neatly trimmed and swept back from his forehead, and his blue eyes were clear. It was a far cry from the thin, ravaged man he’d been three months before, consumed by guilt and grief.
“Not my idea,” Damon said by way of greeting, folding his arms over his chest and nodding his head in Cain’s direction.
Cain rolled his eyes. Itwashis idea to contact Drew and ask for a favor, but Damon had agreed it was necessary. If they were going to drive Chelsea somewhere safe and keep her under the radar, they couldn’t very well takehercar. Damon’s beat-up old pickup, which Cort had kept in storage for him, wasn’t going to work for transporting four people - Cain had felt cramped with just the two of them on the short ride to Drew’s house. And Cain’s car was down in Tennessee, parked in his parents’ garage. They couldn’t take a chance on renting a car with the paper trail that might leave, so there was only one decent option. After stopping at Cain’s hotel to grab a bag of clothes, he’d called Drew.
Bas gave Cain an appraising glance, his mistrust clear, and Cain did his best to hide the squirming discomfort in his gut.
Why the hell couldn’t Drew have answered the door?
Finally, Bas raised an eyebrow and stepped back.
“Drew,darling, your company’s here!” he drawled. He shut the door, and his bare feet made a soft sound as he led them down the long hallway through the center of the house, ushering them into a large, surprisingly cheerful kitchen. Pale green cabinets and cream-colored walls set off the dark wood of the island, and sunlight gleamed off the wide plank floors.
Off to the left, Drew rose from the battered oak farm table where he’d been typing at a laptop. The impressive pecs beneath his tight blue t-shirt flexed as he took off a pair of black-rimmed glasses, and ran a hand through his hair - though somehow, miraculously, every strand fell back into its proper place - and crossed the room to greet them.
“Wow,” Cain said, glancing around the room. “This is cool.”
Drew followed Cain’s glance, and smiled with unexpected shyness. “Yeah, thanks. I just redid it a few months ago. Took forever to get right.”
“You designed it?” Cain asked, looking around again in light of this new information. He wasn’t sure why he’d imagined Drew picking something less homey and more… marble and stainless-steel perfection. Maybe he’d misjudged.
“I did.” Drew shrugged. “Architecture and design are a hobby of mine.”
“A man of many secrets, our Drew,” Sebastian said, flopping an arm over Drew’s shoulders and shaking him. Though both men were tall and solidly-built, Drew was the more heavily muscled of the two, and Bas was slightly taller. “Aren’t you, buddy?”
Drew flushed and pushed Bas away, but didn’t respond, and Cain got the distinct impression there was a subtext he wasn’t understanding.
Damon cleared his throat, and Cain shook himself out of his thoughts.
“Listen, we need your help,” he began.
“So you said when you called.” Drew ushered them over to the table. “You want anything to drink?”
“Not a social call,” Damon growled, and Drew shot him a glare.
“Right,” Drew snapped as he resumed his seat. “Okay, then. What do you need?”
“A car.” Cain slid into the seat to Drew’s left.
From across the table, Bas blinked, then smirked. “Time for an upgrade, Shaw?”
“Leave him alone,” Damon said, grabbing the seat next to Cain and pulling it out fully so he could stretch out his leg as he sat. His position brought his entire injured leg to rest along the length of Cain’s, and Cain had to stifle a gasp at even that casual contact.Jesus.
Bas narrowed his eyes at Damon, who ignored him. “My sister called this morning,” he explained instead.
“Chelsea?”
“Yeah,” Damon told Bas. “Someone broke into her apartment last night.”
“Shit.” For the first time, Drew looked at Damon with something other than dislike. “Is she okay?”
“Yeah. She and her daughter are fine. For now.” He glanced at Cain and repeated, “For now. But we need to get her out of town, fast. And we need a car to do it.”
In a few words, Cain explained the threat that Chelsea had received. “Someone knows Damon is alive,” he concluded. “They’re harassing his sister in their attempts to keep him quiet. We have limited options.”
