The delivery guy knocked on the door. “Delivery for Denver Gray,” he said quietly.
Gray? Seriously? This might be really good or really, really, really bad. Denver stiffened. “Kitchen, Noni. Now.” He waited until he heard her move before stepping to the door and opening it, pointing his gun instantly in the guy’s face. “There’s no Denver Gray here.”
The guy didn’t blink. If anything, his brown eyes appeared bored. “Wait for it,” he muttered.
Denver’s phone buzzed, and he pulled it from his pocket, keeping his gun level. A quick look down confirmed his suspicions, and he clicked to answer. “This is a bad time, Jory,” he muttered into the phone.
Jory Dean sighed loudly over the line. “Don’t shoot my guy. The packages are from me.”
Damn it. Denver slid the phone back into his pocket and took the packages, waiting until the guy had returned to his running truck on the road and driven away. Then he locked the door and put the boxes down.
Noni walked in from the kitchen, her steps slow and unsure. “Denver?”
“We’re okay.” He tugged open the first box and whistled. Guns, knives, two bulletproof vests, and several stacks of cash were piled inside.
Noni leaned over to stare into the box and then gasped. She took several steps back. “Um.”
Yeah,um. Denver opened the second box to find milk, butter, bread, and a bunch of other staples, including steak and fresh salads. “From a friend.” Denver yanked his phone out of his pocket again.
“You have interesting friends,” Noni murmured, her eyes wide and her face pale.
“Another long story. His name is Jory, he lives in Montana, and I just recently found out about him.” Denver pressed a speed dial button.
Noni gulped. “You just found out about a friend?”
Denver paused. “It’s areallylong story. But Jory is a distant relative, somehow. Okay. He might be my brother. We don’t know yet.” Their jawlines were similar.
“Huh? You might have another brother out there?”
“Another brother from the same mother,” Denver quipped before sobering. “Sorry. Inappropriate humor.” He glanced at her.
Her chin dropped, her eyes wide. “This is weird. Right?”
He nodded. “My whole life is a little weird.”
She shook her head. “Your friend—maybe brother—sends you weapons and money. Is he a drug kingpin or something?” She swallowed and eyed the steaks. “Or a grocer?”
Denver snorted. “He’s one of the good guys.” As if on cue, Jory’s square face took up the screen of his phone. “It’s not my birthday,” Denver said quietly, clicking on the video chat.
Jory rolled his very gray eyes. “Like any of us know our birthdays.” As always, he appeared cheerful. Like a cuddly guard dog that could instantly switch from wagging its tail to attacking with razor-sharp teeth. “You’re broke, you’re on mission, and you need this stuff. I can be there in two hours for backup.”
Denver didn’t know what to say. All of his family wanted to help, and right now he couldn’t direct anybody anywhere. At some point, if he lived through taking out Cobb and Madison, he wanted to get to know Jory and his three brothers. “Any news?”
Jory shook his head. “The results aren’t back yet.”
That wasn’t a surprise. Denver and Jory had taken a DNA test to see if they were genetically related. “Did you tell your brothers?”
“No.”
“Me either.” Denver sighed. “We could just go on faith like everyone else has, but I’d rather know the truth.”
“Me too.” Jory focused. “Though I consider us family no matter what.”
Yeah. Denver studied him. He considered Ry and Heath his brothers, and that would never change. But it’d be nice to have a genetic connection to Jory and his family. “We should have the results soon.” Okay. He didn’t want to hope, so he didn’t.
“You find the baby yet?” Jory asked.
Denver blinked. “You know about the current mission?”
