Hewitt Birch had exactly three emotional settings: boredom, casual sarcasm, and extreme hypervigilance.
The first two Britt was used to seeing. Hew made his boredom known by keeping his face buried in a book. The casual sarcasm was something the big ape whipped out and used against his teammates when they least expected it. But the extreme hypervigilance? Well, Hew usually savedthatfor when he was behind the controls of their Black Hawk helicopter.
And also, apparently, when he’s got eyes on Sabrina Greenlee.
“You’re riding with me.” He made a come-on gesture at Sabrina when she stepped off the last tread.
Britt blinked his surprise. Eliza and Sabrina both did the same. It was only Knox who frowned and shook his head. “I’ve been looking after her for the last three days. I should keep on keeping on if you don’t mind. That’s what Cooper would want.”
“You’re still suffering an adrenaline crash,” Hew explained casually as he swung his leg over Freedom’s black leather seat. “And this is going to be one long-ass ride. It’ll be a lot harder and a lot more exhausting if you’re having to balance a passenger. Besides, the bike we got you on only has a camelback seat. No backrest for the second rider. I got a king and queen seat on my ride.” He hooked a thumb over his shoulder to indicate his seat setup. “She’ll be a lot more comfortable with me. Unless…” He lowered his chin and aimed his next words at Sabrina. “You’re not okay with that idea?”
“I-I…” She twisted her fingers. “I want to do whatever’s best for everyone.”
“Good.” Hew bobbed his head decisively and patted the cushion behind him. “Mount up.”
“You need help with your ride?” Britt asked his brother when Sabrina shrugged into the heavy leather jacket Eliza had scrounged up from somewhere and then scurried over to Hew to do as he commanded.
“You were still in diapers when I was riding that two-stroke pocket bike Dad bought me.” Knox clapped a hand on Britt’s shoulder. “I reckon I can handle the luxury units y’all build here. It’ll be all soft and comfy, like driving a Lincoln.”
Britt stared into his brother’s eyes. It was like looking in the mirror at himself. Only it reflected an image fifteen years in the future.
Knox might’ve only had four years on Britt. But prison was brutal on a man. It had aged Knox prematurely, blotching his skin, furrowing his brow, and dimming the light in his eyes.
Theguiltof that ate at Britt. But maybe, just maybe, this was his redemption arc. Maybe if he kept his brother safe until Ozzie could find a way to clear Knox’s name, then he could finally pay Knox back for the sacrifice Knox had made for him all those years ago.
“I didn’t say it earlier, but—” He had to stop and clear his throat. “But it’s good to see you, man. I’ve missed you.”
Knox’s eyes looked suddenly overly bright. “Just wish I was here under better circumstances.”
There was a burn behind Britt’s eyes when he nodded. “Me too, brother. Me too.”
“I was trying to play it straight this time.” There was no mistaking the note of anguish in Knox’s voice. “I swear, I was, Britt.”
Knox rarely called Britt by his name, preferring to usebrotherorbro. This meant that when Knoxdiduse his name, it felt particularly poignant, as if the divide between big brother and little brother disappeared, and they were simply two men who’d known each other their whole lives and who had loved each other just as long.
“I know you were.” Britt swallowed loudly. Then he figured he better inject some levity into the conversation before they melted into twin puddles on the floor. “As for the circumstances, aren’t the bad ones what usually bring us together?”
Knox grunted. “Seeing as how the last time you came to see me was the day I was sentenced to that stint in Kershaw, and the last time I went to see you was when I got compassionate leave to visit you in the hospital after that bullet nearly took you out, then yeah. I reckon you’re right. We might never cross paths if it weren’t for bad circumstances.”
Knox nudged him with his elbow. “Speaking of that bullet, are you ready to tell me how you got it? Because even outta your head on pain meds, you refused to give me the story.”
Britt smiled and shook his head. “Classified information doesn’t suddenly becomeunclassifiedjust because I waved farewell to my Ranger unit.”
“Speaking of…” Knox lowered his voice and glanced around. “I came here hoping you could help me hide. Or maybe help me get out of the country. I never expected you and your friends to help me find whoever double-crossed me. I never thought you’d even knowhow.” He shot Britt a side-long glance. “Is there something you haven’t told me about what it is y’all do here?”
Britt couldn’t lie to his brother. But neither could he tell Knox the whole truth.
“We don’t have a lot of money here at Black Knights Inc., but what we do have are a very particular set of skills. Skills we’ve acquired over very long military careers. Skills that make us a nightmare for people like your rat,” he said, having bastardized the famous speech inTaken.
“Okay, Liam Neeson. Keep your secrets.” Knox chuckled, and Britt had forgotten how much he enjoyed that sound. It had been too long since he’d heard his brother’s laugh. Then, another noise cleaved through the quiet of the shop. And that one wasn’t nearly as sweet.
The hairs on Britt’s scalp lifted so fast and so high it was a wonder they didn’t all jettison clean off his head.
“What’s that?” Knox asked as theeee-ooo-eee-ooo-eeefilled up the space.
Sam and Ozzie appeared at the railing on the second floor, staring down at them in alarm. Fisher ran in from the kitchen, his hair looking as wild as Ozzie’s. And Eliza scurried over to the security monitor by the front door.
“That, my dear brother,” Britt grumbled as he threw on his jacket, “is the dulcet tones of the shit hitting the fan.”
