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I wave my hand. “Enough people want him dead. Do what you like.”

Xavier’s laugh is pure evil, and he ruffles Bullet’s head. “Chippy is coming out to play, then.”

That fucking chainsaw. I’m surprised it still works considering how many bodies it’s been through.

Xavier balls up the paperwork and tosses it into the trash. “There’s my night sorted.”

“No.” I point at him. “It’s Silence’s birthday meal.”

He shrugs. “I’ll do it before. I’ll go to the gym, pick up some more stuff from the apartment, grab Chippy, visit the politician, be here by eight. Easy.”

“Dinner is at eight,” I say. “Be here for seven, or Chippy will have two jobs today.”

Yale eyeballs our brother. “I guess you’re staying with me long term, then?” Xavier gives him a thumbs-up, and Yale narrows his eyes at me. “Make him go away.”

I ignore the comment. “Six new ones.”

He brightens. “Ooh, goody. When for?”

“The weekend.” I hand him a piece of paper with six names and date of births on it. More new recruits for the Agency—the place that made us what we are. A center designed to create lethal killers, loyal to the one who gave them their skills. For years, my brothers and I worked for them, but eventually, we were each given a percentage of that business. It was unnerving, but also proof of our success. “Be selective. We’re gonna run out of room.”

Yale scans the list. “We’re getting more interest.”

Yes, we are. When my brothers and I first joined the Agency, there were ten of us in our group, two of whom were the Flynn brothers. That was the only recruitment that year. Now, we get half a dozen a month, and that’s only because Yale whittles out the ones who wouldn’t last a day.

The front door opens and closes. “Morning!”

“What time do you call this?” Xavier calls back, just as Grant appears in the doorway.

He’s in his usual gray T-shirt, red flannel and jeans. His dirty blonde hair is damp from the rain, and he runs his fingers through it before slumping onto the couch beside Xavier.

“Can’t believe you’re even awake,” he quips. “Did you shit the bed?”

“No, he jerked off in it,” Yale mumbles.

Grant’s face pinches. “Didn’t need to know that. Did you give out the politician yet?” I nod and point at Xavier, and Grant groans. “Shit, I wanted him.”

“Early bird,” Xavier says, texting with one hand and stroking Bullet with the other.

“Good job I’m already in a good mood, then.” He takes a box out of his pocket, opening it to reveal a diamond ring.

Xavier glances at it. “I prefer watches.”

“It’s for Monica, asshat.” He admires the diamond set onto the silver band, his grin wide. “Gonna ask her to marry me.”

“Aw, he’s all grown up,” Yale teases. “Congrats!”

Silence introduced Grant and Monica four years ago. Monica works at the hospital and was reluctant at first, but the moment they met, it was clear they were perfect for each other. If anything, she’s too good for him, and I remind him of that daily.

“About damn time,” I say. “Don’t let Xavier plan your bachelor party. One of us will wind up dead.”

“I also think …” Grant’s voice trails away, and this gets our attention. Xavier places his phone down, and Grant rubs his palms together, focusing on the floor. “I think if I really want to make a go of it with Monica and start a family … I don’t want to be doing this anymore.”

Fuck. I rest my forearms on the desk. “You’re sure?”

He shrugs, giving me a crooked smile. “It feels like the right thing, y’know? I was hoping that politician would be my last.”

“So soon?” Yale asks. “Shit, Grant. You’re ditching us.” His tone is affectionate, but there’s an undertone of hurt. We love Grant. He’s one of our closest friends, and working with him is seamless.