“Thanks,” Damian said.
Amka gave Damian a polite smile, then looked around the bar, her brow furrowing.“Has anybody seen Nixi?I thought she was working the floor.”
“Yeah, she was just here,” Brock said, lifting his chin.“Huh.Maybe she took a break.”
“Maybe,” Amka murmured.She looked pale, the kind of pale that didn’t come from bad lighting but from running too hard for too long.The woman had been through enough the last week to break most people.
Christian leaned in slightly.“You need to rest a bit yourself.”
She gave a half laugh and scanned the bar again, like if she kept looking, she’d find more minutes in the day.“I don’t have time.”
“Make time.”His tone was low but final.His brothers all looked at him, and he ignored their expressions and didn’t move, just kept his gaze on her.He could tell she wasn’t up to fighting him, at least not right now.
“Fine,” she said finally, voice clipped.She turned to walk back toward the register, but her posture had slumped, and her eyes had squinted as if she was fighting a headache.
“Christian, what is going on between you two?”Damian straightened.“I came to town because I heard Jarod Teller got his head blown in, but there’s obviously more to the story than I heard.”
Christian’s head snapped toward him.
Brock leaned over the table.“How do you know that?I thought we were keeping it quiet.”
Damian slowly turned his head.His black hair was growing out, and he looked more like Christian than the other brothers with the same cold composure, the same stillness.But where Christian was all silence and action, Damian was calculation and precision.His deep green eyes cut across the room, pausing on Amka, and then focused back to Christian.“I run security for one of the most insulated facilities in the world.Do you honestly think I don’t notice when a forensic team out of Anchorage reroutes to Knife’s Edge in the middle of the week?”
“Good point,” Brock muttered, taking a long drink of his coffee.
Damian kept his gaze on Christian.“What’s going on, or rather, when did it start?”
Christian didn’t flinch.“Last night.”
“Well.She’s a sweetheart.”Damian sat back.“Not great timing with her fiancé getting shot in the head.”
“No,” Brock said.“Definitely not.”
Damian turned to Brock.“Since there’ve been attacks on both her and Jarod, do you think it has something to do with whatever was going on between them?”
Christian answered before Brock could.“No.”His voice was sharp, final, and cold enough to stop that line of questioning where it stood.
“Well,” Damian said calmly, “maybe she knew something she didn’t know she knew.If that makes any sense.”He glanced up with a small smile as Amka set a glass of water in front of him.“Thanks, Amka.”
“Anytime.”She didn’t look at Christian.Her tone was polite, but she pivoted smoothly and walked back toward the bar without hesitation.
Christian tracked her retreat with a muscle tightening in his jaw.He didn’t say anything.
“Take it easy,” Ace said, leaning toward him.“She’s within sight.”
Christian didn’t respond.
“I hope she knows what she’s gotten into,” Damian grumbled, wolfing down the chowder like he’d skipped breakfast.
“She hasn’t gotten into anything,” Christian said, tone clipped.“This thing between us is short lived.”The words clutched something hard in his gut.
Ace barked out a laugh, Brock snorted, and a grin quirked one side of Damian’s mouth.
“Shut up,” Christian said.“She’s the type who needs a house, kids, a stable life.One in town.”
Brock nodded.“So give her that.”
“Right.While I’m gone half the time, out in the wilds,” Christian said.“That’s not exactly fair to her.”
