And make no mistake, Callen knew this man well, despite him being away for a while.
Yeah, his brother was hiding.
Bet.
On.
It.
How did he know?
Well, Callen had done that same thing when he’d come back fromNew Orleans, after his brother ghosted him there. He’d come back angry, bitter, and heartbroken.
The only place to hide was in sleep, so he wouldn’t take it out on the world.
So, he recognized it in a person when he saw it, and Ethan wasDEFINITELYfeeling those things. Now, the big question was what the hell had happened?
Did he break up with the person he was seeing?
Did he kill someone and was hiding?
Did something happen at work?
Instead of sticking around and asking the very volatile man any questions, Callen did what any self-respecting Native man who had dealt with Ethan before would do when his estranged brother came and confiscated his home.
HE.
RAN.
Yeah, he was no one’s fool. There was no way he was going to poke that bear.
PASS.
So, he got his ass into his truck and drove across the reservation right to the bringer of shit, Timothy Blackhawk, the Shaman extraordinaire.
Because there was no doubt that he’d done something to make Ethan come back. Timothy was known for a few things.
Helping other Natives in the smoke.
Being bossy as hell.
Oh, and meddling.
Callen was betting it was the last one, and it was because of the first and middle reasons too.
This trifecta was going to bite someone in the ass, and Callen wasn’t going to offer himself up as that sacrificial lamb.
NOPE.
The bottom line was that his brother hated it here, and he hated being near anyone who reminded him of his past.
Now, he was back, and he looked like shit.
Oh, and Callen knew what that was like.
He’d done a stint coming off pain meds, so been there, and done that.
Only, Ethan didn’t look addicted.
