Emerson’s jaw clenched. “I spilled coffee on my uniform shirt when I got here. I’m soaking it in the bathroom right now, so it doesn’t stain.”
Harrison glanced at his sweatpants. “Wearing those into the office?”
“If you have a question, just fucking ask,” Emerson said, a wave of nausea hitting him, praying his brother didn’t take him up on the opportunity.
Harrison searched his face for a few seconds before turning away and rising to his feet. “I’m going to head on into the office and start digging.” He spun to take a hard look at Emerson. “See you in a bit, hmm?”
“Yeah. In a bit,” Emerson said.
Harrison climbed onto the dock. Before he left, he turned to face Emerson again. “Don’t sell to that guy.”
“Why not?”
“He doesn’t fit you,” Harry said before his eyes got wide. “The boat, I mean. He doesn’t fitthe boat.”Harrison shrugged, turned, and walked away.
Emerson sat there for far too long, staring at the empty spot where his brother had stood, wondering if his twin understood what he was. If so, there hadn’t been recriminations in his brother’s eyes—not that he’d seen.
Could he trust Harrison with his secret?
The one he’d held so tight that he’d kept all his brothers at arm’s length to protect it.
He missed them. Even when he was in the same room as his entire family, the loneliness tore at his soul. If it went on much longer, he wasn’t sure how much soul he’d have left.
He’d become a lonely, bitter old man like Lenny.
It hit him then that he was nearing the age his uncle had been that day. If they’d been thirteen, his father had been thirty-eight. Lenny had been the younger brother and had been maybe thirty-five. Harrison and Emerson would turn thirty-five on their next birthday.
By forty, Lenny was gone by his own hand.
Emerson rose, opening the cup to pour the leftover coffee into the bay, before returning to get ready for work. Something had to change, before he followed Lenny to the grave.
6
A few days later…
After leaving his car blocks away, Dash strode through the timeworn industrial district, his boot heels echoing as he moved. Few businesses continued to operate there. Most had moved to the other side of the province or one of the smaller ones where the tax rates and limitless space was more conducive to their growth. Even with few inhabitants, there was still plenty of trash left behind, littering the alleys like flotsam from the old, massive vessels of a once thriving industrial sector. The red brick warehouses were now a waste of space, ghosts of the profitable past—except to the graffiti artists who used them as canvases for their bright, creative work.
The scent of petrichor filled Dash’s nose. Rain was desperately needed, especially in that dank, dusty part of town. Dash paused under a streetlight near his target location, lifting his gaze to the stars twinkling in the night sky, and filled hislungs with a steadying breath. His hands trembled, and he considered pulling out his phone and calling Mason.
He shouldn’t have come alone.
What if he had another reaction like the one he’d had with Emerson?
A pair of alphas whipped around the corner and nearly plowed into him. He stepped aside to let them pass, noticing the curious look they gave him. Dash immediately knew who they were.
What they were.
Like him.
Only not.
The larger of the two gave him a curt nod, as if to say‘I see you’before they walked on past, slipping into an alley a few feet away. Dash sensed he should follow and see exactly where they went, sure they were headed to the same spot he was. After a few seconds of doubt, he forced himself forward and entered the alley.
There wasn’t much light. He narrowed his eyes to help navigate the narrow space. Up ahead, there was a small, dim light. Under its circle of illumination, the pair stood in front of another massive alpha. Before Dash could reach them, they walked past the big guy and disappeared through a metal door.
Dash hung back in the shadows, not sure of the protocol for getting inside. He inched closer, hoping to catch a word or phrase. He’d asked Gordon before Mason fired him, but he’d replied they’d never needed anything but their badges and billy clubs to get in. After that conversation and the evil grin that had accompanied it, Dash had given his full approval for Mason to fire the guy.
Mason mentioned it had been a password when he’d gone years before, but he’d been with a client and couldn’t remember what it had been. Something like that changed often, so even hadhe remembered it, it might not have helped. After waiting for an hour in the damp, smelly alley—and overhearing the words ‘naughty fun’ being repeated to the doorman a few times, he gathered his courage.
