Laughs. Loves.
Out of Declan’s shadow, I can finally witness the real Brody, who’s ready to live on his own.
Ready to live with me.
Brody’s promise to stay with me every day will never get old.
If you track it according to linear time, our relationship is a speckled fawn on wobbly legs. If measured against what we’ve already been through, though, and how deeply we’ve fought to be here together, we’re a pair of swans in the twilight of our lives.
I’ve barely taken four bites before Brody’s finished half of his food. “Someone’s hungry.”
He chugs down some coffee. “Someone couldn’t get enough of me last night. I have to refuel.”
Heat floods my face, and I kick his leg beneath the table. “Shut up. Connor’s coming.”
I amnothaving a sex conversation in front of Brody’s older brother.
Connor slides into the booth next to Brody and sips his mug of cold coffee with a grimace.
I slide over the dish of sugars. “It helps. A little.”
“Thanks.” Connor hands a manila folder over to Brody and then grabs three sugars and shakes them before ripping off their corners and dumping them into the caffeinated water.
Brody shoves his plate—wiped clean with his last piece of rye toast—off to the side and scans the contents.
When his face tightens, my heart races.
“What is this?”
Brody gives his brother a side-glance before focusing on me again. “Call it a graduation present.”
I push my half-eaten breakfast aside, my appetite gone.
Brody slides the folder across the table.
Inside, I find dossiers on two criminals.
Tingles break over my entire body, and the air catches in my throat.
I glance across the table at the brothers. They’re blurry through the tears streaming down my face. When did I start crying? “Is this…them?” I don’t know why I bothered to ask. Every fiber of my being already knows the answer.
Brody nods. “Connor did some digging based on what you told us about your conversation with Rostov.”
I can’t breathe. “Thank you both.” With my eyes so watery, I can’t read the papers.
Connor sees my predicament. “As it turns out, the men who kidnapped your friend Angelica worked for a now dissolved Italian family.”
I try to wipe some of the tears from my eyes. “Not some of Grigori’s guys?”
Brody’s voice breaks through the fog in my head. “No. They did do some work for him in New York City during the timeframe he told you about. That part wasn’t a lie. But there certainly weren’t five of them.”
“And no way was the Russian mob boss going to give you five million dollars to live a happy, peaceful life in exchange for your drive while he systematically dismantled your family.” Connor tries his coffee again, which appears to be bearable now.
I push my plate toward the older brother. “Are you hungry?”
“Nah, I’m not a breakfast kind of guy. Thanks, though.” He smiles.
I guess that explains why Brody had no clue what to order him.
