“How much did they get?” Remy asks, going back to his job.
“Everything in the register. Plus, they broke some stuff, the assholes.”
“Don’t you have a bouncer?” Derek asks.
“Yeah, there’s a bouncer, but these guys had guns.”
“Did you call the police?” Remy asks, his eyes narrow.
My hands hip my hips. “Of course, but they were long gone by the time the cops arrived.”
He shrugs. “Well, you don’t own the place, so it’s no skin off your nose how much they took.” He goes back to wrenching.
“Except it is. I work there. If the bar doesn’t make a profit, it’ll go under.”
“So what? You can get another job. It’s not like there aren’t other bars.”
“I don’t want another job. I likethatplace.”
Derek glares at Remy, then throws a tool, and it clatters on the concrete.
I frown at his reaction, trepidation filling me. “Are you guys fighting again?”
“Remy’s just being an ass. Same shit, different day,” Derek mutters.
“Hey, fuck you, asshole. You don’t like it, there’s the door.” Remy points outside.
Derek flips him off.
I know my brothers, and if this continues, they’ll come to blows. I don’t dare ask what they’re pissed at each other about, because that will only escalate things. I decide it’s time to change the subject, so I drop the bomb. “Did you guys know Sully is here?”
Remy tenses, the wrench in his hand pausing its twist, his laser focus flashing to me again. “What did you say?”
“Sully Bossier. He’s here in Durango.”
Remy comes to his feet, the tool clattering to the floor. “You saw him?”
“Yeah, he came into the bar this morning. And get this, he was with one of the Royal Bastards. Apparently, he’s one of them now.”
Derek strides closer, his brow lifted. “He’s a fucking Royal Bastard?”
“Yep.”
“No way. You must be mistaken.”
“I’m not mistaken. He stood as close to me as you are.” I motion between us. “I mean, I haven’t seen him since I was seventeen, but you think I don’t know the man? We all grew up together.”
Derek’s eyes shift to Remy, and they exchange a look.
“What’s that look about?” I ask, tired of their silent exchanges.
“What look?” Derek mutters.
“The one you just gave Remy. What the hell’s going on?”
“Nothing. Just fucking shocked he’s in town and with that fucking MC. That’s all.” He turns to Remy. “What’s it been, ten years?”
“Twelve. Did you talk to him?” Remy bites out with an angry look pointed at me, and Idoknow whatthat’sabout.
