He’d never fucked in that bed. Never brought a fuck to his house. His brother lived there too, after all, and Elliot had kept Rob away whenever they’d been in town.
Rob. Killy snorted. Good fucking riddance.
The man behind the wheel hummed a counterpoint to the sluicing of the bus’s tires over wet asphalt, and snippets of conversation from Ace and Elliot’s card game. Snow came down in flurries, cutting visibility.
God, Killy hated snow. Give him Southern California weather any time.
“What you planning to do when you get home?” Killy asked the driver. This wasn’t their normal driver, and for the life of him he couldn’t recall the guy’s name.
The man smiled at Killy in the mirror above his head. “I’m going to be a grandfather soon. I’m taking a few weeks off to be there when my grandson arrives.”
Killy couldn’t help but smile. “That’s awesome, man.” Family. This man likely had a wife he’d been married to for years, raised kids together, those kids all nice and normal.
Not Killy’s world.
“Yeah. My daughter and her husband are naming him after me.”
Killy didn’t dare ask. After three weeks together, he should know the driver’s name. Then again, some days he didn’t know his own.
His nerves were on edge tonight—all Rob’s doing, the twisty sensation of wrongness in his guts. If only the driver didn’t have that damned rule about smoking on the bus. He could really use a cigarette right now.
Or a joint.
The driver slowed the bus.
“What’s wrong?” Killy peered out at the dark night, snow coming down so fast the windshield wipers fought a losing battle.
“There’s a man out there in the middle of road. Trying to flag us down.”
“Don’t stop. He might be some kind of ax murderer or something.” Killy was only half joking.
“He won’t move! I can’t run over him.”
Killy disagreed. The driver stopped.
Ace and Elliot soon crowded Killian at the front of the bus. “Hey, that’s Rob!” Elliot turned to the bus driver. “Let him in. It’s freezing out there.”
“Wait just a damned minute.” Killian whirled on his brother. “You know what the asshole tried to do. I don’t trust him on this damned bus.”I don’t trust him near you.
“Killy, please.” Elliot turned on the puppy-dog eyes. “What if it was me standing out there?”
“You’re not an abusive asshole,” Killy spat out from between gritted teeth.
Ace laid a hand on Killy’s shoulder and patted his jacket, indicating the pistol he kept with him. “I’ll keep an eye on him.”
Killian let out a sigh. Outnumbered. Still, bad feelings roiled in his gut. How the fuck had the bastard even gotten out here?
With one last, worried look at Killy, the driver opened the door.
Killy glanced back at Ace, who’d slipped a hand under his jacket. Good man. It wasn’t worth Elliot’s upset for Killy to carry a gun—and he’d likely have shot Rob dead by now—but Ace’s years of military service left him pretty handy in the defense department.
A bedraggled man stood in the doorway, face hidden by a fall of dripping dark hair, flecks of white on his bare head and on the shoulders of his far-too-thin cotton hoodie. He raised his eyes. Fucking Rob. He likely couldn’t even feel the cold in his state of mind.
“What the fuck are you doing here?” Only Elliot holding him back kept Killy from attacking.
Rob looked at him with sad eyes. “Look, I’m sorry. I know I was an asshole. I just need a ride to Nashville is all. Then I’ll go and you’ll never have to see me again.”
“Please, Killy,” Elliot said. “We owe him that much, at least. We can’t leave him here in the middle of nowhere in this weather.”
