CHAPTER 4
“Why the hell didn’t you tell me?” Hunter barked as he pushed through the front door of Big Daddy’s.
It was the question he should have asked Mackenzie ten minutes ago, back in that office. Only, instead, he’d run like the hounds of hell were on his ass and hadn’t stopped until he was good and pissed.
Sixteen flights and a few uphill blocks left ample time for the anger and frustration to reach dangerous levels. Thankfully, the perfect target sat at the end of the bar, sipping from a frosty mug and wearing a shit-eating grin.
“Aren’t you a ray of sunshine.” Brody pulled from his beer, as if Hunter’s world hadn’t just been flipped on its fucking head. “I take it the talk went well?”
Hunter didn’t answer. Didn’t need to. Because there weren’t enough words in the English language to sum up exactly how many different levels of fucked-up that meeting had been. Which worked for Hunter, since the kind of come-to-Jesus meeting he desperately needed had little to do with words and more to do with action.
Some swiftfistaction—right to Brody’s face.
And three years of lies and complete bullshit packed one hell of a punch.
Brody’s head flew back, the impact knocking him off the barstool and onto his ass, splashing beer onto the bar top and a few nearby patrons.
Brody righted himself and wiped at the blood trickling from his nose with his shirtsleeve. “What the hell?”
“My thoughts exactly, bro.” Hunter grabbed Brody by the shirt, their faces so close he could feel his cousin’s heart pounding with adrenaline.
“Hey, thanks, Brody,” Brody said in his best Hunter imitation. “I can’t believe you put your entire career on the line by violating a binding confidentiality agreement with one of your biggest clients. I mean, that bonehead move could lead to a lawsuit that could ruin you. So thanks for doing me a solid,bro.”
“Thanks?” He shoved Brody into the wall hard enough to send a few platinum records crashing to the ground. “Three years and you said not one word.”
“Whoa, not cool,” Cash said, looking at the spectacle they were making. As the oldest Kane cousin and the owner of their dad’s bar, Cash didn’t like people making a mess in his place. And because Cash was six-foot-three and 220 pounds of tattooed hothead, most people knew better than to try. “You know Big Daddy’s rules. No one fights in here except the owner. And that would be me.”
“Special circumstances,” Hunter said, his eyes never leaving Brody’s, his fists still bunched in his cousin’s starched shirt.
“Is this about the time Brody got all hormonal over Savannah and shoved you into the gym locker and hurt your little man feelings?” Cash asked with a grin.
Brody sent Cash an eat-shit-and-die look. Hunter kept his eyes locked on his target. “Something like that.”
Cash let out a big, irritated sigh, as if he were the one whose whole world had been flipped upside down. “Fine, but you know the rules. No blood on the customers, so take it elsewhere.”
“You really want to do this, Hunter?” Brody asked.
“Yup.”
“Beating the shit out of me won’t fix things.”
“Nope. But it’ll make me feel a hell of a lot better.” And right then Hunter needed to feel something other than this ache of betrayal.
Without a word, Brody shoved Hunter back, then wiped the blood off his lip. He headed through the bar, nodding and smiling at startled customers, not stopping until they were in the back office.
Hunter did his best to keep himself in check until they were behind closed doors.
“You already got in one shot,” Brody said, slamming the door. “Now you’re going for two, and that’s just greedy.” Brody underscored his last statement with a quick advance and sharp right cross to Hunter’s jaw.
Jesus.Did his cousin have titanium knuckles?
Hunter’s adrenaline pumped hard, making him feel like a freaking gladiator and helping him rebound from the blow faster than expected. He rushed Brody, lifting them both up off their feet and toppling them over the desk. The impact was enough to rock both their worlds, but neither missed a beat.
Fists flying and arms jabbing, each fought for the dominant position. They tumbled over and over, finally landing with Brody on top, his fist cocked back and ready to deliver another blow when a bucket of ice-cold water rained down over them.
Gasping, they both looked up to find Wade. Brody’s younger brother stood in a starched suit and tie worthy of dinner with their mom, Vivian Kane, an empty ice bucket in his hand. The look he shot their way said he was having dinner with Aunt Viv, and they’d interrupted it.
“You ladies finished? Or would you like to take it to the alley out back?” Wade said in that southern gentleman’s tone that always pissed Hunter off.
