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“They catch the best prey?”
“Sometimes they become the hunted.”
“Not going to happen,” I said with more bravado than I felt. I wasn’t sure if he was talking about my mark or Brody, but either way, I wasn’t about to have everything I’d fought for fall apart because of the actions of some well-meaning, irritating as fuck family members. They’d caused other shit storms that I had weathered. I would weather the newest one as well.
“I hope not.” That was softer than the rest, and I wondered if I was meant to hear it at all.
Chapter 9
Brody
KeeneandIwerein the gym, beating out some of the aggression simmering in both of us, when Gideon walked in. I wouldn’t admit it out loud, but if it wasn’t for his interruption, I was pretty sure we would have continued trying to beat each other until we both passed out from exhaustion. Keene sure as shit hadn’t let himself lose his edge, and part of my path to mental recovery over the last six months had involved a hearty amount of physical activity with a variety of teachers, instructors, and sensei. I wagered I was in even better shape physically now than I was when I was active military.
“Get ready,” Gideon said, looking resigned.
“What?” Keene asked, and I was happy to see he looked as tired as I felt. At least my hands weren’t trembling, I noticed, smirking at that detail. We pulled apart and looked at Keene’s eldest brother, who, despite the late hour, looked as fresh and put together as he had that morning.
Gideon went to speak, but before he could get a word out, his phone rang. Reaching for his pocket, he pulled out his phone, pressed the button to answer it, and placed it on speakerphone for Keene and me to hear.
“Good evening, handsome,” the syrupy sweet voice purred. “I’m so glad you reached out to Soulful Mates. I have someone here who is excited to meet with you—”
I bit back a laugh as Gideon pressed the red button, ending the call, but before he could say anything, it rang again. “Hi, Gideon, thank you for choosing—” The bubbly cheerleader-type was hung up on as harshly as the woman before her.
He swore. “I can’t turn it off. Gia is supposed to call me after school.”
“Alessia’s revenge?” I asked, not able to hide my amusement, and Gideon snarled.
“She signed me up for every dating site, escort, and phone sex service known to man. I think I’ve had close to fifty phone calls in the last thirty minutes.”
“I don’t have any calls,” Keene said, looking at his phone screen from where he had set it on the bench outside the ring.
“Of course not, because it would be too easy for you to get a new number. Besides, do you really think she would pull the same trick twice? This is our sister we’re talking about,” Gideon grumbled as his phone rang in his hand again. He looked at the screen before rejecting the call.
A ding of the elevator had the three of us looking up. Boone strode in, his jacket thrown carelessly over his shoulder. “You guys ready to get out of here? Royce left a few minutes ago to deal with a problem with his security system.”
“Break-in?” Keene asked, concerned, but I noticed Gideon didn’t bat an eyelash, more worried about his still-ringing phone than he was about Royce’s house.
Boone shook his head. “I don’t think so. An alarm went off about an obstructed camera.” He took a step back, wrinkling his nose at Keene. “You stink, man. Why don’t you take a shower? We can eat at my house. I think the housekeeper said she was leaving enchiladas in my fridge for dinner tonight.”
Gideon was about to reply when his phone rang again—the fourth or fifth in as many minutes—but that time, he answered. “Hey, sweetheart. How was school?” he asked, turning on his heel, waving absentmindedly as he left, his attention fully on his daughter.
“Guess he’s out,” Boone said. “Go. I’ll meet you at my house.”
Keene and I hit the shower, and I jumped into his SUV a few minutes later. I was grateful I didn’t have to find a place to park my pickup—Keene had told me to leave it in their lot while I was gone—but I hated not being the one driving.
We arrived a few minutes after Boone, and before Keene could even put the car in Park, we could hear Boone’s shouts coming from the house.
“Alessia’s revenge, part two?” I asked, sure the windows were rattling with the force of the swearing.
Keene ignored the question, taking the noise in stride as he pushed into the house without knocking. “What happened?”
“She poured out every bottle of alcohol I owned, including the Pappy Van Winkle!” Boone was positively livid, and I didn’t blame him. Judging by the number and label of the bottles that lined the counter, she had dumped well over fifteen thousand dollars of liquor down the drain.
Keene raised an eyebrow, saying nothing, but I noticed he was beginning to look a little worried. He walked to the fridge, grabbed a foil-wrapped dish, popped it in the oven, and hit a timer. “Well, unless you want to make a liquor run—”
“Got it,” Boone said triumphantly, holding up a half-used bottle of cheap whiskey that, judging from the amount of dust on the bottle, had been forgotten for years and left in the hidden depths of the pantry behind a box of rice. After grabbing a tumbler, he turned to us. “Want some?” he offered, but I shook my head, as did Keene. Something about the bottle didn’t look right, and I stared harder, looking for what was off. He was about to open the bottle when it hit me—the entire bottle was filthy, save for the cap. I debated whether to say anything, but before I could decide, Boone poured a healthy three fingers into the glass and downed it. Shrugging, I consoled myself with the reminder that Alessia loved her brothers and wouldn’t do something that would cause permanent harm.
Keene grabbed a bottle of water from the fridge, holding one up for me, but I shook my head. No way in hell would I take the chance she hadn’t sabotaged more than the whiskey. I walked past Boone and grabbed a glass out of the cabinet, washing it in the sink before filling it from the tap. Who knew what else that hellcat had done while she was there, but I was going to follow the philosophy of “better safe than sorry” for the rest of the night.
