“Do you not have any fucking clothes?” Killian asks Heather as she sits in the lounge with the three of us. Knox is on one side of her, and I’m on the other. Grumpy ass is on the chair across from us, with a scowl on his face that I don’t think has left since I brought her here.
“Oh, I’m so sorry, Killian. I guess my kidnapper forgot my backpack filled with my fucking clothes.”
This girl is amazing. She has every reason to be terrified, especially of Killian, but she's not. Every rude comment she answers back with has just as much snark without delay. I think about twenty-five percent of my brother's problem with her is the danger she represents. The other seventy-five is because she stirs something inside him and he doesn’t like it. Knox and I can both see it. Killian does not.
“Maybe someone can get your backpack then, because I’m tired of seeing your body.”
I roll my eyes because he’s being ridiculous. She’s been wearing my t-shirts that fall to just above her knees. She’s not walking around the house naked. As much as I wish she were.
She rises from the sofa and goes to the bar to fill a glass with a few fingers of scotch before setting it on the table in front of Killian.
“Here you go. Drink up and chill.”
Much to my surprise, he leans forward and grabs the glass.
“I think I will. Hard liquor is a requirement for suffering with your presence in my house.”
Knox chuckles softly as he shakes his head.
“You two should fuck and get it over with. It would certainly make living with you both more tolerable.”
Killian grumbles an inaudible response.
“So, you’re mechanics?” Heather asks, breaking the tension in the room and causing us all to chuckle.
I share a glance with both of my brothers before Killian surprises me and shakes his head.
“Not exactly. We have a chop shop.”
Her eyes scan each of our faces before her expression shows confusion.
“A chop shop?” She asks, and realization dawns on me that she doesn’t know what a chop shop is.
Killian laughs obnoxiously as he leans back against the couch with one arm behind his head and cradles his drink in his other hand. “You can’t be serious.”
Heather jumps up out of her spot and moves in front of him as she places her hands on her hips, with a furious glare in her eyes.
“I was raised in a fucking cult, dick! There’s a lot of shit I don’t know. But what I do know is you are a certifiable asshole.”
His laughter fades as his lips pull up into a huge grin.
“Again, you’re talking about my dick, Killer.”
Knox grabs her wrist and pulls her onto his lap as I stare on, wishing I could do the same. He wraps his hand around her waist, holding her close to him, and she calms in an instant.
Running his free hand through her long blonde hair, he speaks low, but we can still hear him explaining our situation.
“Ignore him, Tesoro. A chop shop is basically a theft operation. We have teams in place, so it’s not us doing the labor anymore. Long story short, cars are stolen and taken apart. We then sell the parts for a nice profit.”
Her gasp is loud as she says, “You’re criminals?”
And then turns to Killian and says, “It makes sense,” before turning back to me and asking, “Aren’t you afraid you’ll get arrested?”
“Yes,” Killian growls, “which is exactly why we don’t need you here.”
She turns on my brother's lap, looking at me with a sad expression, and her words nearly make my skin feel painful.
“He’s right. I shouldn’t be here. It increases your risk.”
