“We’re what?”
“GreatDanes.” He looks at me like I should know the world is flat. “We’re not little golden retriever bitch boys. We’re big. Imposing. Protective. Harmless unless provoked, and then we’ll rip someone apart. We kill. We win. Otherwise, we’re softies, and?—”
“I’m not soft.”
“Not your dick. I mean your heart.”
“I know what you meant, and it’s what I mean. I’m notsoft in the heart. I’m hardened.” I punch my chest. “I’ll never betray our family. I’ll always protect us. I know what…” I gulp. “I know what he did to you. To all of you, and I’ll die before I won’t do my part.”
Jace swallows his emotions.
We rarely say “Father” or “Dad.” That’s not who Ruslan Kholodov is to us. Satanic sperm donor. Abusive anti-Christ. Pick any evil synonym, and that’s who we’re talking about.
We’re talking about the man who’d lock Jace in a wooden trunk by the desk in his office. Grant told me about it. How Jace was just a little boy, and to train him to “toughen up” and “be a man,” our supposed father would lock Jace inside the trunk, like his little casket, and let him scream, terrified for hours.
My mom would take a beating, trying to get her son out. So did Sire. So did Axel. They were our oldest brothers and endured so much for us.
Now, we all hate our father. They have scars, and Jace has a paralyzing fear of small places.
I soften toward my brother. I love him. It’s why we give each other shit. “Look,” I confess. “Is Alena pretty? Yes. She’s strong, smart, and sweet, and funny as fuck too. Any man would be lucky to have her, but I’m not him, and I know it. Okay?”
I hear myself say it.
Hear myself prophesying my future.
Even if Alena falls in love with me, she’ll hate me once she realizes who I really am and how I’ve lied to her.
My shoulders sag, the truth sending my heart to my feet.
“Alright, man. I believe you.” Jace softens in reply. “You’re doing your job, and?—”
My work radio squawks from its charging station on my nightstand. I crane my ear, listening to the dispatcher.
“Fuck!” I rip off my leather pants. I didn’t clock it earlier. “Was it raining this morning?”
“Yeah.” Jace shares, “It fucking poured all night. It just stopped an hour ago. Why?”
I aim for my closet and get dressed lightning fast. “Because we have a flash flood warning.”
“Yeah, and…?”
“And that means the rivers around here become walls of water, the waterfalls, tsunamis, and now we got a rescue at Looking Glass. I gotta go.” I step into my boots and grab my pack.
“Go.” Jace juts his chin. “I’ll feed Mutt and lock up behind you.”
“Thanks, man.” I don’t say goodbye as I rush out the door.
Ten minutes later,I park my truck on the shoulder of the road, leading to Looking Glass Falls. Rangers. Fire. Police. Ambulances. Tourists. Even a news van is here.
Grabbing my gear, I ignore them. Rushing past, I find the rescue crew assembled down the winding stairs, on the lower concrete platform at the edge of the river.
Without a word, Alena glances up, nodding at me before she returns her focus to the local fire chief, directing the rescue.
“We’ve already been across,” he shouts over the roaring falls. “She’s screaming and panicked and won’t let us near her.”
I cast my stare across the raging river.
Normally, it’s a tranquil, misty spot at the bottom of high,cascading falls. Like a wading pool of slippery rocks and gentle, meandering currents.
