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“Don’t. Your dad’s an asshole.” Cleo hadn’t liked him on either of the two occasions they’d met. “Seth doesn’t hold that against you, does he?” The fierce look on her face warned of retribution if he did.
“No, not at all.” In fact, if anything, Seth was furious her father hadn’t been more worried for her during this whole mess.
“When are you next due to visit the happy homestead?” Jinx took bite into a fresh Reece’s cup.
“This Friday night. It’s Sienna’s birthday so I’ve been summoned to a family dinner.” How could she not go?
Jinx pulled a face. “Hey, you know what will take your mind off that?” She wiggled her eyebrows. “Some Angel lovin’.” With a push of the remote, TV’s sexiest vampire appeared on screen.
The women settled back in their seats and admired the formidable, tormented sexiness of Angel. And yet, even as David Boreanaz worked his magic, it was Seth Justice’s mouth and teeth Harper imagined caressing her neck. With one bite, he’d had her hooked from the beginning.
* * *
Seth buried his head deeper into the pillows, but the far-off banging sound still penetrated the fog of his sleep-deprived mind. He opened one eye and glanced at the time on his bedside clock. 6:35 a.m. Who the fuck was at his door at this hour on a Friday morning?
And…hang on. He lived in a modern, secure apartment building with a lobby and security guards. So how did someone get up to his floor unannounced?
Adam. Or Heath. Who else had the skills or authority to get past the security guards in the lobby?
Five hours sleep. Not much, but at least last night’s meeting with Dillon had ended with a PR strategy aimed at beating Fox at his own game.
Flinging back the sheets, he rose and stretched his arms high above his head. He needed a run and a shower. And coffee. From Seven Dishes. Served to him by the owner. Dinner and the night spent with Harper on Tuesday seemed so long ago. Damn, he really was obsessing over her like a teenager. They’d planned to hang together at her place last night but she was feeling unwell—a stomach bug—so after missing her company he was ready for a good morning kiss.
More banging, this time hard enough to rattle the lock.
He scrubbed a hand over his face. Whoever the bastard was, he could wait a second. A pair of jeans lay on the chair in his bedroom. They’d do. Once semi-dressed, he reached the door, looked through the peephole, and yanked it open.
Adam. And Dillon.
This couldn’t be good.
“You got company?” Adam glanced over Seth’s shoulder.
Meaning Harper?“No,” he answered before giving Dillon a questioning look. His gut clenched as his oldest brother looked away.
“Good.” Adam stalked past to end up standing in front of the dark gray suede sectional lounge in the open plan kitchen/dining/living area. Wearing his usual black T-shirt and cargo pants, the commando was framed by the floor-to-ceiling windows that showcased downtown Seattle. He turned and faced Seth with his hands on his hips. “You’re about to have visitors.”
“Mate, tell me what—”
“Seth,” Dillon’s soft voice stole his attention. For the first time, Seth noticed his brother’s rumpled T-shirt. Dillon never left home rumpled. Ever. “Listen to what we have to say, okay?”
The apartment’s front door buzzer sounded loud in the early morning stillness. Adam disappeared down the hall, only to return with Heath right behind him.
Seth leaned back against the black marble topped kitchen counter. “Jesus, you look like hell.”
Heath’s shirt was creased, and his hair looked like he’d run his fingers through it multiple times. Weariness deepened the lines of his unshaven face.
“It’s no party when someone deposits twenty-five thousand into your bank account, and it turns out that person is a known criminal figure in the Pacific Northwest.” Heath sighed. “There was an anonymous tip-off to Internal Affairs.” Heath’s chuckle held no humor. “I haven’t been suspended yet, considering the other posting bullshit, but I’ve been pulled from my active cases and given desk duty until I’m cleared.”
“What?” Seth all but shouted.
“Yeah, and just like the first post, the fallout hasn’t earned me brownie points with the brass.” Heath glanced at Dillon. “You told him your news yet?”
Dillon sat on one of the barstools at the counter that doubled as a dining table. “There’s a truly flattering post about me on some gossip blog that has a ridiculously high number of subscribers.” Dillon held out his phone to Seth. A picture of all the brothers, with Dillon circled in red, sat next to the opening paragraph.
Dillon Justice. Inherited the family home and a chunk of money from his wealthy mom but will always be known as the illegitimate bastard who ruined his mother’s chances of marrying well and earned her the disdain of her family. There’s been speculation for years over the name of Dillon’s father.
But even now, his role in his family is shadowed by misfortune and a lack of recognition. How must it feel to be the older brother, yet have to take orders from the youngest of the street urchins his mom adopted? Read on to learn more about Dillon’s hidden life and the concerns of his mom’s well-connected family that he’s succumbed to the drug addiction he battled in his late teens.
