Britt frowned in confusion. “Did I miss something? Did Hunter rescind his invitation? Is Ozzienotgoing to?—”
“No,” Hew cut in again. “You’re wrong if you think I give a fiddler’s fuck what you want.”
Britt’s growing apprehension had the hairs on his arms lifting like little semaphore flags. “This entire situation is a five-star screwup if ever there was one. There’s no guarantee the feds won’t find us.” He was desperate to mitigate the fallout from the bomb Knox had detonated by coming to Chicago. “And you don’t need to be there if they do. If anyone has to go to jail for helping my brother, it should be me.”
Hew crossed his big arms over his even bigger chest. “Two things,” he said in that Mainer accent that sounded curt and cutting. “One, martyrdom isn’t a good color on you. That’s just a fact.”
“Yeah,” Britt muttered, “if you’ve suddenly changed the definition offactintoshit you just made up.”
“And two,” Hew continued, “I’m a big boy. I can make my own decisions. I’m coming with you.”
“Damnit.” Britt ran a hand through his hair. “What happens if push comes to shove and I’m forced to stand my ground to protect my brother?”
“I know my specialty might be piloting war machines through the sky, but I can outrun, outgun, and outmaneuver with the best of you.”
“Iknowyou can. But have you considered that that outrunning, outgunning, and outmaneuvering you’re so good at will involve the feds? As in the Federal Bureau of Investigations?”
“You mean the same Federal Bureau of Investigations with a rat in their house? The same Federal Bureau of Investigations itching to put your brother in the ground for something he didn’t do? You expect me to stand by and watch an innocent man go down just because he’s notmybrother?”
Britt tried one last time to change Hew’s mind. He made sure his expression was as earnest as his tone. “I can’t have you on my conscience if things go pear-shaped. This ismymess to clean up, and I?—”
Hew interrupted with, “Your mess, my mess. None of that matters. We might not share blood, but we share a common goal: to keep everyone who works here alive until Madam President leaves office and we’re no longer in her service. If this situation with your brotherdoesgo pear-shaped, you’ll have a better chance of keeping your head on your shoulders with me by your side. Besides…” Hew grinned. “I’ve been itching to see this cabin Hunter has kept so secret. He says he has a first edition ofA Wrinkle in Time.”
“Ahhh.” Britt nodded. “So the truth comes out. This is about a book. I should’ve known.”
“What?” Hew blinked innocently. “Can I help it if I’m motivated by loyaltyandliterature?”
Britt tried and failed to come up with another argument that would sway Hew’s decision. The truth was, despite not wanting to involve his teammates more than he absolutely had to, he was glad for the company. Glad he’d have another set of eyes and ears on-site…just in case.
“I don’t know whether to kiss you or tell you to go fuck your own face,” he finally told Hew, shaking his head in defeat.
“Spoken like a true prodigy.” That one corner of Hew’s mouth quirked. “I’ll take a pass on the kiss. And the other? I don’t bend that way. Believe me, I wish I could. Because what’s one more sin in a life already filled with transgressions?”
Britt guffawed while Eliza gasped. Her expression was scandalized. “I swear I’d love to shove all your heads in soup pots and kick them around the kitchen.”
“Are you including Fisher in that fantasy?” Britt asked her with a teasing wink.
She lifted her chin. “My darling fiancé quotes poetry. He doesn’t openly opine the sad fact that he can’t suck his own dick.”
Now, Britt was laughing in earnest. “Did you just saydick?”
She rolled her eyes. “Just because I don’t curse six times in each sentence like the rest of you doesn’t mean I don’t know what the words mean. And just so you know?—”
She was cut off when Knox and Sabrina appeared at the top of the stairs.
Knox looked better after having showered and stolen a few hours of sleep. He’d borrowed a pair of Britt’s jeans and wore the faded, scuffed leather jacket Hunter had left behind when he moved out of the old factory building into a condo with his wife in the Streeterville neighborhood.
Sabrina, on the other hand, still looked awful. The woman wore her fear like a fashion statement. Britt would swear he could see a heavy cloud of sorrow hanging above her head.
He clocked the dark, freshly-pressed jeans she’d borrowed from Eliza. And sure as shit. The flannel shirt she wore still had the creases in the arms from where it’d been folded up at the factory.
Sabrina had pulled her dark hair back into a sleek ponytail, and her huge, doe eyes were still shadowed and bruised-looking. But the expression in them was nothing shy of…Britt decided the word washopeful…when she saw Hew latching the fasteners on the back of his tour pack.
“Are you coming with us?” Her voice was so soft he could barely hear her above the sound of Knox stomping down the stairs.
Hew didn’t speak. He nodded his head once as he watched Sabrina Greenlee descend the stairs.
Britt regarded his teammate’s expression with a raised eyebrow.
