“He’s my client, Graham.” I shook my head, not wanting to continue to explain myself. “He can’t hurt me. He’s chained to a table.”
He didn’t say anything, but a muscle in his jaw ticced.
I stared at Graham, really taking him in. I hadn’t let myself look too hard since I’d met him in the library that first day, but I allowed myself to now.
He was older than me, closer to forty, but he was in ridiculous shape. He wasn’t overly muscular like his one brother I’d seen come and go through the house, but he was strong. His shoulders were broad and arms visibly toned through the button-up shirt. His facial features were reminiscent of his father’s, but softer somehow. His blue eyes were all his own, though. Eyes that if I looked too hard or long, I might suffocate in. He was usually clean-shaven, but he had a shadow of stubble on his jaw.
“Just…be careful,” he eventually said. “There’s more than one way to hurt someone.”
A pang shot through my chest at the truth of that, but I chose not to acknowledge it. I’d spent years building my armor. There wasn’t much anyone could do to break through it now.
“I can take care of myself.”
Then I left him standing there, staring after me as I climbed the stairs, hands clenched into fists at his sides.
Back in my room, I closed the door and locked it.
I stared at the envelope clutched in my hand for a long moment. Instinctively, I reached for my watch, running my finger over the cool glass of the watch face. It wasn’t mine, which was why it was so big on me.
No, it had once been his—my brother. Austin. It was the only thing I had left of him.
My hands trembled as I tore the envelope and the paper inside into small, uneven, confetti-like scraps. I tossed them into the small fireplace on the wall opposite the bed. The original tiles surrounding it gleamed but were cold as I knelt on them.
I struck a match from a glass vase on the mantel, dropped it in, and watched the paper blacken and curl until there was nothing left but ash.
6
Graham
Somethingwaswrong.
Quinn had been at the bed-and-breakfast for a week and not only had the tone in town shifted, but so had the energy in my family. I wasn’t sure whether I’d imagined the change, but it became clear when two of my brothers were missing from family dinner on Sunday night that something was off.
Family dinner was nonnegotiable in the Ramsey house. Even when we were teenagers sneaking off to parties, or in college out of the state, we called in or sent messages to Mom so she’d know we were still part of the tradition. But last night, two of my brothers had been missing, and no one said a word about it.
So tonight, I called a meeting.
Hearthstone Security and Investigation was started by my brother August, and most of us worked for the company in one capacity or another. Everyone but the oldest, Roman.
The conference room was small but comfortable, a blend of modern and rustic with brick walls from the old building paired with sleek glass panels. A heavy reclaimed-wood table dominated the center of the room. The overhead lights were dimmed low, and the glow from the wall sconces made the space intimate.
August sat at the head of the table, his thumb absently tapping the surface. Roman sat across from me, looking calm and curious. Reid was stiff in his chair, arms crossed, a familiar tightness in his jaw that meant he was trying not to say something. Fox was the quietest of us all, he always was, eyes flicking between us like he was watching a chess game he didn’t want anything to do with.
“I thought we should talk about what’s going on,” I said as the silence stretched on.
Reid and August glanced at each other. Fox looked up at the ceiling.
Roman was locked on me.
Then, he sighed. “I agree.” He wrapped his arms over his muscled chest. “I know Hailey was missing her uncles on Sunday.”
Hailey was my niece, Roman’s daughter. She was always at the house with Mom when Roman was working at the fire station. He’d lost his wife shortly after Hailey was born.
Reid flinched. “It’s not like we didn’t want to come.”
August pushed a hand through his dark blond hair. “Things are a little complicated right now.”
I narrowed my eyes. “Since when do we not talk about things?”
