He was going to do something stupid.
It was in his genetics.
“Why are you telling me?” he asked, as he fought to keep his voice neutral, even when that was anything but what he felt.
That made Ethan look up.
“Uh, because you’re the chief of reservation police, and this is Native land. The council just told you to ride roughshod over the suspicious and evil FBI agents—specifically Gene, the White one. So, I’m giving you an update.”
Callen just stared at him.
The words were fighting to get out.
As he stood there staring at his brother, there were so many emotions rocking through him.
He wanted to hug him.
He wanted to be near him.
He wanted to beg him to stay there and never leave again so he could have the other half of his soul back.
Somehow, he managed to keep his mouth shut.
“Want to talk about it?” Ethan asked, tucking away his notebook.
Honestly, Ethan was confused.
Since they had time alone to talk, his brother was acting weird. He was staring at him when he thought he didn’t notice, like he wanted to say something.
Since Ethan went there, Callen had no choice but to speak to him, and pray that he did the right thing.
Let.
Ethan.
Go.
His brother had a good life, and someone who loved him. He knew that once upon a time, he’d been that person. Now, he’d moved on, and it was time to let him go.
That meant cutting all ties.
Any way possible.
“About what?” Callen asked, playing dumb.
Ethan wasn’t sure what was going on, but something was up with his brother.
Was this about earlier?
When he’d been peeping?
Was he grossed out about him liking dick?
If that was the case, they needed to address this immediately.
“About what you saw when you looked in your window?” he asked. “We can start there. We can also talk about anything else you wanted to discuss.”
Oh, Jesus.
