Page 212 of The Wright Man

She smiled, shook her head like she didn't believe me for a damn second, and left.

A few minutes later, I heard the rumble of a truck outside. Sticks. With Riq riding shotgun, trailer hitched and ready.

I stood, flexed my hands, rolled my neck.

No more talking.

No more warnings.

Time to let my actions say what I meant with my whole chest:

She's not yours to hurt anymore.

Chapter Thirty-Six

Maleek

Sticks barely had the truck in park before I yanked the passenger door open and climbed in. The second I shut it, I felt that familiar hum beneath my skin—the one that only came when my brothers were near. The kind that settled low in the chest like a calm before the storm.

Riq was in the backseat, reclined with his arm slung across the headrest. His hoodie was half-zipped, gym bag at his feet, expression unreadable behind his shades. He tilted his chin at me. "Yo."

"'Preciate y'all pulling up," I muttered, voice lower than usual. Controlled.

Sticks gave me a once-over as he pulled off. "Ain't nothin'. Where we headed?"

I rattled off the address to Angelica's townhouse. Even saying it made my jaw clench.

Sticks nodded and tapped it into the dash. "Cool. GPS says twenty-three out."

"Bet." I exhaled slow and steady, watching the world blur past my window. Sunlight poured through the windshield like it didn't know what kind of day it was. Birds chirped. Lawns manicured. Kids on scooters. Everything too calm for the heat smoldering in my chest.

I didn't speak until we hit the highway.

"How'd the pitch go?" I asked, cutting a glance at Riq through the rearview.

He shrugged like it was nothing. "Didn't."

I frowned. "Didn't?"

"I rescheduled. Was ready to handle it solo, but..." He nodded toward Sticks. "This fool said you sounded off. Family first."

I sat back, jaw tightening for a different reason now. "You ain't have to do that."

"Yeah I did," Riq said, like it was obvious. "You'd do it for me. You have done it for me. So shut up."

Sticks chuckled, eyes on the road. "Don't get him emotional, Riq. He might start talking about his feelings."

"Eat me," I muttered, but my lips twitched.

Truth was, I was grateful. That bone-deep kind of gratitude that stuck in your throat and made your fists curl just so you wouldn't say some soft shit. These two had been with me in mud, in war zones, in hospitals. In the dark. And here they were again.

"Alright," Sticks said after a beat. "Now that we're all caught up on the love fest, you gonna tell us what the hell happened?"

I scrubbed a hand down my face. "He locked Angelica out the house this morning. Tossed all her shit onto the curb. Some of her stuff got stolen before I got there. He was standing over her when I pulled up—like he was gonna put hands on her."

The cab went quiet. No music. No jokes. Just the low, rising temperature of brotherhood-born rage.

Sticks sucked his teeth. "He touch her?"