Page 113 of Sterling Fight

I spin to face the masculine voice I’d recognize in my sleep. Behind me, Stone stands with his hands on his hips.

I lower my head, and Genie guides my gloved hand toward my eldest brother. With steady hands, Stone removes one glove and then the other, tucking them each beneath his armpits.

He glances at Genie standing partially behind me. “I’ll give you another minute.” Then he steps back but not far enough that I can run.

Not that I would, but I’d love nothing more than to pick up Genie and make a dash for my truck.

Instead, I turn back to her, brows pinching. Irritation creeping back into my veins. “What did you do?”

Her eyes widen, her hands coming up, palm out in defense. “I only spoke to Clay.”

“That’s like taking out a headline in the local paper.” My tone is harsher than it needs to be, and my words aren’t exactly true. Knox is the gossip.

“They needed to know.”

“And it was my place to tell them when I was ready.” I don’t want to argue with Genie, but she had no right to tell my family what I was doing.

“They love you,” she lowers both her head and her voice. “You’re fortunate to have them.”

It’s a reminder that Genie is alone. An only child with a revolving door of stepsiblings she never connected with, and three stepfathers plus an evil mother.

For me, I have five overbearing brothers present and one kid sister who is probably wearing a path into the wood floors back in her home.

This is what I didn’t want.

“They’re worried about you.”

“Exactly,” I snap.

“It’s called love, Judd. Appreciate it.” When she spins on her heels, I take a step to follow her, but a firm hand on my shoulder stops me. My gaze continues to track Genie until she’s safely inside the bar again.

“We need to talk.” Stone’s voice rings serious and firm in my ear as I watch my girl walk away from me.

39

[Judd]

Dread fills me when I head to the locker room to change out of my sweaty shorts. I can almost hear the coming lecture. Words to dissuade me. Questions about why. I dress slowly into loose sweats and a tee, despite having arrived in a crisp shirt and suit pants.

Once I enter the pub-like area, I notice Stone, Clay, Knox and Sebastian seated at a low table.

“Where’s Genie?” I ask again, fear clogging my throat.

“Ford took her home,” Clay states.

“Want a drink?” Knox asks, holding up a glass of something dark and foamy near the top.

“Man, I wish I still drank,” Sebastian states, having given up the pleasure after abusing drugs for years. He eyes me warily. “Where the fuck did you learn to do all that?”

Leave it to Sebastian not to hold back.

“Let’s let him get a drink first.” Stone points toward the bartender, who leers at Stone like he knows he’s a nearby sheriff despite the plain clothes he wears. Stone motions toward me. “Whatcha having?”

“Whiskey, neat.”

Knox whistles low. Sebastian sucks in air. I can’t look at my brothers. The order is my father’s drink.

An inch-deep glass of whiskey is placed before me. The drink has become a ritual. A salute to my father. A fuck you to the old man and his choices.