That gives me time to study the rest of the invoices and make notes.
Barry owes her a fuckton of money. And he’s going to pay her every dime.
When Beck pulls into the driveway, Bridger’s already with him, and I climb into the back seat.
“You don’t get to kill him,” Bridger says. He’s not joking. There’s nothing funny about this. “You’d break your niece’s heart if you got sent to prison.”
“As much as I’d like to, I’m just going to remind him that his piece-of-shit actions have consequences,” I reply.
“Skyla mentioned that Jules made a comment about her car at book club,” Beckett says.
“Why didn’t you tell me?”
Both of my brothers send me a look.
“Because none of us is allowed to speak about her to you,” Bridger reminds me. “So we just keep everything we know to ourselves.”
“What else do you fucking know?” Yeah, I sound like a broody asshole, but I don’t care. They know things about my wildfire and haven’t told me?
What the fuck?
“Not much,” Beck admits with a shrug. “Skyla doesn’t tell other people’s secrets. She just mentioned the car thing to me.”
“Dani doesn’t say much either.” Bridger shakes his head. “The girls lock it down. They’re loyal to each other.”
I actually love that. I love that the girls trust each other and are not only best friends but also family. And I can admit that I like the fact that Jules is being welcomed into that friend group. Something tells me that she needs it, and I’ve been an asshole to resent it. But dammit, seeing her all the time is torture.
And an addiction.
Fuck.
We’re quiet until Beckett pulls into the parking lot and cuts the engine.
“What’s the plan?” Beck asks before we get out of the vehicle.
“I came with receipts.” I hold up the folder. “I think I’ll be extra nice.”
“Shit. Someone’s gonna call the cops,” Bridge mutters, making me grin. “We don’t have Chase Wild at our back in Silver Springs, Brooks. We don’t know the cops here.”
“I know Tucker’s brother, Easton,” I counter. “But trust me. We won’t need the cops.”
Probably.
The three of us walk into the garage. Barry works alone. He says it’s because he does better by himself, but it’s really because no one will work for him. He’s an asshole, he underpays, and he’s a complete piece-of-shit human.
The fact that my wildfire was anywhere near him makes my blood boil.
Barry looks our way and scowls. “What the fuck do you want?”
“I just need to ask some questions.” I slap the folder on the counter, and Barry opens it, scans the top page, and then his face goes red.
“That little bitch.”
“Uh-oh,” Beck breathes behind me.
“What did you just call her?”
“Listen, I don’t know what she told you?—”
