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As I lay there waiting for sleep to come find me and get me the hell away from Vincent for a few hours, my thoughts inevitably drew me to the exact subject I was trying to escape. I’d met plenty of people who were skeptical of politicians and I couldn’t really say I blamed them, but Vincent was downright hostile about the subject. Of course, he didn’t seem like the most open-minded of guys. Hell, what did I know? The man was a complete enigma, and I knew next to nothing about him.

Except that he was dangerous.

And moody.

Unpredictable.

Disinterested.

I could have gone on with the negative characteristics, but I kept going back to one thing.

He was also the reason I was still breathing.

Because Vincent felt a certain loyalty to his friends. Enough that he’d risked his life to save someone who wasn’t even directly linked to them. He’d saved me for Beck Barretti so that the young man wouldn’t have to watch my brother suffer through losing me.

I’d met Beck only once, but I’d found myself drawn to the young man, especially after I’d seen him with my brother and their other lover, Quinn. To discover that my brother was in a threesome had been a shock, to say the least. As I’d made my way to Montana to talk to Brody, I’d fully prepared myself to find him with a boyfriend. But two? No, there’d been no preparing for that.

I hadn’t even known that was a thing…I’d heard of polygamy as part of those weird religions where a guy had multiple wives, but from what I’d seen of Brody’s relationship with Beck and Quinn, it wasn’t anything like that. For starters, I hadn’t seen even a wisp of jealousy between the three. While my knowledge of men with multiple wives was limited to some news articles and shows I’d seen, I’d always gotten the sense that the relationship revolved around the husband. The wives were there to serve him and give him children, but they weren’t in a relationship with each other, at least not a romantic one. And I certainly never saw stories about a woman having multiple husbands in the same context. I couldn’t throw my support behind a relationship that was based on the needs of one member of the family being met while the needs of the remaining ones were ignored.

I could get behind Brody’s relationship, though, because he’d finally found what he’d been looking for his entire life.

He finally fit.

I’d seen that in the few minutes I’d spent with my brother. I’d felt it in the way Beck had hugged me when he’d thought I was Brody. I’d seen it when Beck and Quinn had looked at Brody with concern and fear in their eyes.

I was happy for my brother.

Beyond words.

But inside, deep down where it wasn’t dangerous to acknowledge, I was envious, too. I’d never have what he had.

I’d accepted that a long time ago.

But I could make sure that my brother and people like him had the right to love whoever they wanted. Vincent could believe whatever the hell he wanted, but I knew the truth.

Thoughts of my brother had me wishing I could hear his voice again.

“Vincent,” I said quietly as I stared at the ceiling above me…the ceiling that had a fucking mirror on it. I would have laughed if it didn’t feel like my heart was bleeding inside of my chest.

There was enough light coming from the parking lot through the gap in the curtains to see the outline of Vincent’s body in the mirror above us. He was lying on his side, his back to me.

“What?”

“Never mind,” I muttered when I heard the grumpiness in his voice. No way he wouldn’t be a dick about what I wanted to ask him.

“What?” he repeated. I wanted to believe his voice held a slightly gentler edge to it, but I knew it was wishful thinking.

“Is there a way to get my brother’s messages off my phone without risking it being tracked?”

Vincent was silent for so long, I was certain he wasn’t going to answer. But he surprised me by flipping onto his back. I couldn’t actually see his eyes in the reflection, but I sensed them watching me via the mirror just the same.

“Does your phone sync to a cloud account?”

I shook my head. “No. Preston said it wasn’t a good idea to keep recordings on those kinds of sites…leaves them open to hacking by rivals.”

“Of course it does,” Vincent responded snidely.

I shook my head. “Just forget it,” I muttered, and flipped onto my side so I wouldn’t have to look at him anymore.

I felt the bed shift and assumed it was him turning over again, but to my surprise, I felt his hand on my shoulder. Even through the fabric of my shirt, the contact burned and I tried to quell my fluttering stomach.

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