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I tipped my head back, a wry grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Back at you.”
Shared understanding and acknowledgement flowed between us.
We were both Monroes. We both came out of our home, no matter how broken it was, and we were here. We were both doing the same thing. We were at different points, but this was a commonality. I knew my brother needed the fighting, but so did I…and he knew that, too.
He cupped the back of my head one last time, and moved in. His lips pressed to my forehead. “Fucking love you, sis.”
I clasped him back, just hugging him.
Then he stepped back, letting me go, and a whole different look came over him. Edgy, wariness, and danger. It was strong and sudden, enough that everyone around us quieted, picking up something new was coming. At this, Channing grated out, “We need to talk about Dad.”
BREN
After we took the bail jumper to jail, Channing and Moose met us back at the offices.
Justin was behind the register, helping out a group of guys and handing them their shoes. He watched us come in, all of us wearing our vests with an almost bored look on his face. Seeing my face, surprise tightened his features, and his head reared back a little. Then his gaze trailed behind me, and I knew he was seeing my brother. His eyes got bigger.
Then he hit Moose, and they were half-crawling into his forehead.
Yeah. Moose had that effect.
Gramps and Bonnie were there, both smiling wide when they saw Channing. There were hugs, greetings. A good pat on my back from Gramps. His hand took hold of my shoulder, and he squeezed in affection. “What’d I tell you?” He was speaking to Brock. “Told you she was a good one.”
Bonnie moved in, brushing her hair back before she gave me a hug. “So proud of you, honey.”
Hawk was grabbing some coffee.
Why they kept having me bring coffee in when they had their own coffee pot was lost on me, but then again, bought coffee always tasted better somehow. Big and Burly were in the fridge, pulling out food items when we filtered in.
Brock leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. He hadn’t taken his vest off. No one had. He lifted his chin toward Channing. “I have to ask, you here for personal, professional, or both?” The real conversation piece was my father, and myself.
Channing’s gaze was on me as he answered, “Both.”
Moose went to join Big and Burly. They motioned for him to help himself to the sandwiches, and he started piling his own together.
“Then I have to ask, is your father coming here for his daughter or the Red Demons?”
I leaned back against the wall in my corner, listening, but not speaking up.
A darkness flitted in Channing’s gaze before he blinked, and it was gone. He shifted, turning to Brock. “How about you tell me about the Red Demons? I’ve done some research, but not enough.”
Brock’s eyes flitted closed a second as he began frowning. Then, his eyes still on Channing and he flattened his mouth. “I’d think you could tell us, actually. Heard you have something I’d like back.”
Channing’s eyes darkened. “Sure.” He dug in his pocket and tossed a USB in the air.
Brock caught it, cradling it where he did, and his eyes narrowed at my brother. “Something tells me this isn’t the only copy?”
“Nope.” Channing shook his head. “But can you really stand there and say I don’t have a right to what’s on there?”
Brock’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t answer.
And Channing’s head dipped down. “Let’s go over what you might need to know. Maxwell Raith helped me out with a situation. That’s it. That’s all you need to know. Bren’s not involved with the Red Demons. Neither am I. We’re not involved with our father.” My brother leveled him with a look. “And I’m hoping you’re not suggesting there’s anything more there, because if you were, then that’d be an insult. I wouldn’t want myself or my sister being insulted by you.”
A pregnant pause descended over the group after that.
Big and Burly had been sitting in two of the chairs, sandwiches on their plates. They froze.
Moose’s back was turned to us. He’d been reaching for a slice of cheese. He froze.
Hawk turned back to the group from pouring her coffee, her eyes going to Brock, me, my brother, and back to Brock.
Gramps blustered forward, “No, no, no.” He was waving his hand in the air, big smiles on his face. His voice came out sounding uneasy. “Of course, no disrespect was meant. Brock’s like you, I’m assuming. He’s dogged and thorough, and dedicated to not only doing his job, but also ensuring the safety of all our team members.” His eyes darted in my direction as he finished. His meaning was clear.
