I grab his collar and pull him forward. “Let me tell you something, you dumbass, corn-fed motherfucker. You stay thefuckaway from my shit or I’ll end you. It would be worth the trip back there.”
Anders’ eyes go wide, and he looks over my shoulder.Shit. I turn around slowly, and DB and Parker are standing there, looking at me like I’m the crazy one.
Great.
“Poppers are flammable, right?” DB asks, bouncing his onyx-and-ebony wood cane on the concrete.
Mother…fuck.
Anders bites his lip. “Um, maybe?”
“That might explain the small fire in his front seat.”
I murder Anders with my eyeballs, then race through the shop, hitting the key fob.
Thankfully, the good twin is already there, opening the door, fire extinguisher in hand. The flames are still contained to the passenger side but are growing fast, licking the ceiling and engulfing the seat itself. I hold the door open as he pulls the pin and fills my brand-new Land Rover with foam.
I turn around and Anders is just…there. With his stupid mouth hanging open and his hands up defensively.
“You fucking…asshole.”
I advance on him, swinging wide. Strong arms pull me back, and my fist barely grazes Anders’ perfectly square jawline. He touches the place where I connected, a dark smirk on his pretty lips.
He liked it because he’d finally gotten me to lose my shit. He has no idea of what I’m capable of. No clue of the things I’ve done to survive. Maybe if he did, he’d back the fuck off.
Rafi runs out of the shop, putting himself between me and the human mosquito who’s been in my ear for months now.
Swearing under his breath in Arabic, he continues. “Don’t let this guy fuck up everything for you.Ahda ya ‘akhi.” Calm down, brother.
Look, I’m at best a secular Muslim, very much happy with my American life and carefully Americanized English. My mother taught me forgiveness, and I always try to make her proud. I forgive, again and again, one AndersFuckingBash for making me lust after him and despise him in equal measure.
But forgiveness is not on the menu tonight.
“You two. Inside. Now.”
I keep forgetting DB is here, and I curse myself for choosing this specific day to let Anders push me over the edge. He’s been fucking with me for months, but it figuresI’mthe one who’s going to get the dressing-down.
I grind my teeth so hard, I’m surprised I don’t crack a molar.
5
Anders
I grab a spare T-shirt from my car and spend a few minutes in the restroom removing lube from my hair, eyebrows, and beard.
Those fucking gray sweatpants are going to be the death of me.
And fuck, that was close. I’ll gladly replace everything that got ruined, but I shudder to think what could’ve happened if that bottle had fallen over while he was driving the car.
I leave the restroom and walk into our newly revamped tactical room, which Parker has whipped into shape in the few months she’s been working with us. She’s so cool, I wouldn’t even hit on her, and that’s saying something.
Probably a little backward now that I think it aloud, but I’m not gonna hurt myself on the logic.
Just as I’m sitting down next to Omar, I find a bit more lube inside my ear. I scoop it out with my finger and wipe it on his neatly pressed T-shirt as DB walks into the room. Omar’s face goes slightly purple, but he takes a deep breath and faces DB, attempting, I suppose, to ignore me. That’s not going to go well for him.
I flinch when Odd knuckle-bumps my arm. “Ow, man!”
He raises his eyebrow at me and looks at the smear of lube on Omar’s shirt. He makes a slashing gesture across his neck and stares me down until I give him a small nod of acknowledgement.
