The pair stare each other down, but I keep scratching under Dolly’s ears. The pup leans into me, rubbing her face against my chest. Myrick, on the other hand, takes a step back. He looks unsure, like he’d rather be anywhere but here.
“I’m not trying to be an asshole, Brock,” Rhett snaps, voice rising. “But I’m not responsible for carpooling your friends across the fucking country. Especially those looking for work in an area known for illegal activity.” His jab stings.
“Like buying an illegal omega off the black market?” I can’t help but shoot back.
Rhett snaps his head to me, eyes flashing. “What the fuck did you say?”
I should shut up, let Brock handle this—but I’m done with this prick’s attitude. “Look, you can look down on me for wanting to find off-the-books work, but don’t pretend you’re some kind of saint.”
The chorded muscles in Rhett’s neck pull and flex, and his knuckles grow white as he squeezes his fists. The rage rolling off of him is intense, making my adrenaline rush. Hell, even Myrick bows his head in a show of submission, but Rhett won’t hit me. He’s not the kind. In fact, I’m willing to bet he’s never thrown a punch in his whole goddamn life. Men like him rely on their money to do the fighting for them.
“I know I’m a fuck-up,” Brock says, stepping closer totry to pull his brother back. Rhett’s eyes stay locked on me, though, and I glare right back. “I’ve worked hard to be better,” Brock says, looking to Myrick for support. “Oli’s been a big reason. He just needs a lift north. That’s it.”
“Rhett?” Myrick’s big blue eyes plead with his mate.
Rhett glares, and his teeth flash at me one last time before he looks away. But when his gaze lands on Myrick, his jaw relaxes.
“Don’t give me that look, Myrick,” Rhett says firmly, though he already seems calmer. “I’m already on edge with everything going on with the company. I don’t need this shit on top of everything else.”
Brock’s brows shoot up, panic flickering in his eyes. “What’s happening with the company?”
Rhett exhales hard, unclenching his fists. “I’m selling it.”
Brock’s eyes widen. He glances at Myrick, then back at Rhett. “Selling it? Why?”
“Because I’m not passionate about textiles,” Rhett says flatly. “I appreciate what our fathers built, but I’m forty-two. I’ve spent my whole life caring for something I never wanted. I want to make something for myself.”
Brock rocks on his feet, clearly upset. I don’t get it—he told me he never cared much for the family business and was happy to leave it to Rhett.
“Yeah, okay.” Brock nods stiffly.
“I’ve got a decent offer from Cooper Jannis,” Rhett adds, patting Brock’s arm. All his anger is gone. “But don’t worry—you’ll get your share.”
Brock shakes his head fast. “I don’t want it.” Rhett looks surprised. “Seriously. The company’s always been yours. But if you want to give me something, take Oli up north.” He shoots me a sad smile.
I’m touched, but it’s not necessary. “Brock.” I place a hand on his shoulder, squeezing gently. “Don’t give up anything for me. I’ll find my own way.”
“No,” Brock insists. “I’m serious about this fresh start. A start I wouldn’t have without you. Rhett—what do you say?”
“Really?” Rhett gives me a long, slow look, his mouth curling in distaste. “You’d give up your inheritance to give some asshole a ride?”
“Rhett!” Myrick gasps, shocked. His eyes dart to me, clearly embarrassed by his mate.
“Oli saved my fucking life,” Brock barks, his biceps flexing. He looks like he’s one smart-ass comment away from throwing a punch.
“It’s fine.” I hand Dolly back to Myrick. “Don’t worry about it, Brock. I’m good.” I glare at Rhett as I turn to leave. Hitchhiking across the damn country is gonna suck, but I’ve done worse.
“No!” Myrick moves quickly, slipping in front of me and blocking my exit. His delicate features are set with resolve. “Rhett,” he says, turning to his mate, “you’ve said for years you’d give your right arm if someone pulled Brock’s head out of his ass and set him straight.”
“Hey,” Brock grumbles, offended. Rhett cuts his brother a hard look, and Brock pouts. “I get it. Still.”
Myrick steps closer to me, standing tall and proud. “This gentleman has done that.”
I almost laugh. I’m nobody’s idea of a gentleman—but if it gets me where I need to go, I’ll take the compliment.
“The least we can do is give him a ride,” Myrick says, his voice soft but steady.
Rhett’s jaw ticks. He exhales, the sound sharp in the quiet room. I expect him to blow up, bark at Myrick, andpull some alpha dominance bullshit. But instead, he looks at his mate for a long beat—like he’s really thinking.
