Walking to his truck, Colton covertly looked around, but didn’t see anyone paying close attention. Still, the feeling stayed with him, even as he reached his truck then pulled away.
Chapter Three
As soon as Zack turned onto his street, he spotted his brother’s car in the driveway. Great, just what I don’t want to deal with. His brother was perched on the front steps, looking way too comfortable for someone who claimed to be allergic to Zack’s neighborhood. Craig always acted like visiting was a favor, like just showing up was a gift Zack was supposed to appreciate. He hadn’t even bothered to knock, just sprawled across the top step with his baggy jeans and ancient Nikes, scrolling his phone while the evening heat baked the porch concrete.
A painful knot tightened in Zack’s stomach as he drew closer. He slowed halfway up the walk, but the second Craig looked up, he plastered on a smile like nothing in the world was wrong.
“When did you start hiding from family?” Craig kept his tone easy, but his eyes tracked every step Zack took. “You going to walk right by without speaking?”
That tone never boded well. It was the one Craig used when he wanted something and had decided to act friendly just long enough to get it.
“Hi.” Zack made sure to keep his keys at the ready, not wanting to fumble for them with Craig watching. “Didn’t expect to see you here.”
Pocketing his phone, Craig stood fast enough to block Zack’s path to the door, refusing to move aside. “What, I need a permission slip now?” His teeth flashed in that familiar, easy smile. “Maybe I just missed my baby brother.”
“You don’t miss anyone.” The truth came out before Zack could stop it, but Craig didn’t even blink.
“God, so dramatic.” Craig sighed. “You didn’t call me back last night.”
Had anxiety been a physical sensation, it would have been a cold line down Zack’s back. He shifted his weight, not quite making it to the first step. The porch boards held heat from the day, and it felt like Craig radiated tension just by standing there.
“I had to work late.” Zack kept his voice level with the lie. “And I had an early shift.”
“Always an excuse.” His brother stepped closer, forcing Zack to retreat a step or two. The difference in height wasn’t much, but Craig made it feel so much bigger. “Man, you’re really letting yourself go. Is that a stain on your shirt, or are you starting a new grunge trend?”
“Guess I missed the memo on what counts as fashion, Craig.” Zack tried to brush at his shirt and realized too late he was giving Craig ground.
That fake concern flickered through his brother’s eyes, replaced by something colder when Zack glanced away too quickly. He didn’t want Craig in his apartment, didn’t want him pawing through his stuff, didn’t want to hear another story about how hard life was and how everything would be different if someone would just give him a break.
Doing his best to sound polite, Zack tried, “So what are you doing here? I’m kind of busy tonight.”
Craig spread his hands, playing at innocence. “I was in the area. Wanted to check in. See how you were doing.”
Bullshit. Craig never dropped by unless he wanted something. Never called, never texted, not unless he was in another mess of his own making. The only thing “checking in” meant was seeing if Zack had something worth taking.
“Everything’s fine,” Zack said. “You can see I’m alive.”
Craig’s smile didn’t waver. “Always so fucking touchy.” His gaze swept the small stoop, the cracked paint on the railing, the empty planters the manager said he would fill but never got around to. Craig took in the details, not missing a thing.
Zack edged closer to the door, but didn’t dare unlock it. Experience said letting Craig inside would turn into an hour of headaches, maybe more. With the porch between them and nothing but warm air, at least he had a kind of buffer.
Leaning casually against the brick wall, Craig’s tone turned syrupy sweet. “You never call. You never visit. Kind of makes a guy feel unwanted. What, Main Street too good for the likes of me?”
Zack gritted his teeth. “Just tell me why you’re really here.”
The mask slipped. Craig’s features darkened, lips twitching like he was holding back a snarl. “Just wanted to talk, Zack. But if you’re in such a hurry to get rid of me, I’ll cut to the chase.”
It took everything for Zack not to flinch when his brother grew closer. The distance went from tense to way-too-personal in a single step.
“I need eight hundred bucks.” Craig said it soft, quick, like that made it less absurd.
Zack almost laughed. His brother had lost his marbles. “I don’t have that kind of money.”
“Oh, come on.” Craig rolled his eyes. “You pick up all these shifts. You’re always working, acting like missing a goddamn day will make the sky fall. You’ve got something stashed, I know you do.”
“I don’t.” Zack hated the squeak in his voice. “I pay rent, I pay bills, same as everyone.”
Craig curled his lip. “So you expect me to believe you’re working, what, fifty hours a week, and you’re still broke?”
