Robert's face turns red, the deep line appearing between his eyebrows and more at the corners of his mouth. "What the fuck."
"You keep pushing to leave New York. You want to go and start the business over somewhere new. It's shortsighted, and it's turning your back on everything I've built."
"And who the fuck was there beside you while you built it all?" Robert's hands ball into fists.
There's a part of me that wants him to hit me. I want to fight with him the way we did when we were younger, punching each other until we're both too tired to keep going and the fight fades to the background. I'm tired of not being able to look at him as my equal.
I miss my brother, even though we don't get along all the time.
It's been too long since we could spend much time around each other and not argue about the future of the family. His problem has always been his impulsivity, though. He's never had a head for the long game, and I'm sure that's why he wants us to leave. He thinks leaving is easier than staying. And maybe he's right. But staying is what's going to bring us the bigger reward in the end.
Robert grinds his teeth and nods to the cut on my arm. "You've got to stop letting her get the upper hand."
"Well, I was told she was the Lynde least likely to fight, yet here we are. She's clawing at me and using anything she can get her hands on as a weapon." I put the kit away and pour myself another glass of whiskey, sipping on this one. "There's something admirable about it, though."
He scoffs and shakes his head, getting his own glass. "You sound like you admire her for that."
"I do." I lean back against the counter, swirling the amber liquid in my glass. "We could use more of that around here. We need people who want to fight to live. The problem with the people we have is that they've gotten far too comfortable. They think we're going to fail. I can see it in their eyes when I speak with any ofthem, and when they look at me like that, I know we're going to fail."
"What do you want to do about it, then?" He starts pulling food out of the fridge, setting it on the counter.
He's always had a tendency to cook when he's nervous.
If I were him, I'd be nervous about the way the war is going too. We're in over our heads. I can admit that. I let revenge cloud my vision for too long, and now it's bringing us toward chaos. By the time I realized where adjustments needed to be made, it was almost too late. Zoe had left, and she's always been the one to solve problems for me.
I drum my fingers on the side of my glass. "We need to boost morale. Open the auction to the men. Allow them to bid on the women they want."
"You think letting them buy themselves some whores is going to help them?"
I shrug. "Can't hurt. And apparently, there's a post-nut clarity the younger guys talk about. Might help them to have something worth fighting for."
"How are the women going to be worth fighting for? These are women that they're buying, not that they're going to turn into a wife and impregnate."
"Because some of those men are going to fall in love with the women they buy. They're young and impressionable, and if they stick their dicks in a woman, she's going to wrap them around her finger. And then I'm going to use those women as shields when we finally end this."
"You don't think that's only going to make the men less likely to fight?"
I smirk and sip the whiskey as he gets to work slicing up a roast to braise. "No. They'll fight, and they'll do it well. Anyone who goes to training and actually proves themselves worthy won't have their woman slaughtered in front of them. And those who do have their woman slaughtered are going to be mad at the Lyndes, initially. After all, it's going to be Lynde bullets riddling through the woman."
Robert shakes his head and starts tossing the beef into the roaster. "Are you going to buy anyone at the auction?"
"Are you?"
He glances at me, a slight hint of guilt in his eyes. "Maybe the Lynde bitch. Teach her a lesson just when she thinks she's getting away from us."
"Uh huh." I eye him, knowing that there's more to it.
A slight shade of red creeps up past his collar, but that's not all.
I saw the way he looked at her the night he took her from me. He was half in love with her. Or at the very least, in lust.
It would piss him off to no end if I took her right from beneath him.
Might be worth it, even if it means having to put up with her some more. But would it bother him enough? I still can't trust him, and if I push him too far, he might get worse.
At the end of the day, though, he's still going to be my younger brother. He's going to be the man who falls in line and does what he's supposed to because that's what he's always done. If heknew anything about what was happening, he would have come to me.
He's the one person I know isn't involved in the shitstorm starting to build.
