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“That was then. This is now.”
Andrew irritatingly chooses that moment to remind us he’s present. He steps to our side opposite the SUV in confrontation mode, starting with Kane. “Can I just say, I both love and hate how obviously you are in charge of the cartel? Because I appreciate you de-escalating that shit, Kane, but this tonight is exactly why I didn’t want you to marry my sister.”
Kane’s lips tighten, but Andrew has already turned his joy and love on me. “Why can’t you and that damn FBI badge just take them down?” He holds up a hand. “Don’t answer. I know why. Because of Kane.”
“It’s called evidence, Andrew,” I snap. “I thought they taught police chiefs about that requirement but maybe they skip that for you small-town boys. Or maybe it’s just a Quantico thing.”
He comes right back at me. “You can be such a bitch.”
“Bitch meets brother. There’s a connection, Andrew. You make me a bitch.”
“What I want to make you do is your job. Are you even trying to take Miguel down?”
“What cartel have you ever known that was taken down and anything good came from it? They’re up again in a day. They kill someone for payback. That could be you. We have to control them. And that’s what Kane can do for us.”
“That’s a no. Listen to yourself, Lilah. You’re now burying bodies you murdered, and justifying who you married by some good he does for society by running a fucking cartel.”
“Listen to yourself, Andrew. You sound like a pussy.”
He scrubs his jaw. “I better stop before I kill you and then he kills me.”
Obviously “he” means Kane, and I truly want to bust my brother’s balls right now. “You are clearly melting down, Andrew. We were never in danger.”
“You’re family, Andrew,” Kane assures him. “That means you’re protected.”
Andrew’s gaze jerks to Kane’s. “I saw that tonight. It felt good, too, to be that protected brother-in-law and if you think I’m serious you shouldn’t be running a cartel or an oil company.” He motions to the door. “I’m going inside before the hordes of reporters find us and connect this situation to Dad’s attempted murder.” He starts walking toward the hotel. Apparently, my brother still believes he’s safer with my father than he is with us. Somewhere along the line, he forgot that those who are closest to us are usually the ones who kill us. Family is dangerous. And he’s a fool if he thinks Dad is the lesser evil than Miguel.
But it’s not Miguel or my father, or even Kane that scares Andrew.
It’s me. And I can’t help but wonder if that’s because I remind him of himself.
Burying Roger’s body bothers him a bit too much, considering he was a serial killer who tried to kill his sister. It’s fucking with him, much like me stabbing my own rapist to death, who intended to kill me, did me. Because it woke something inside me. I wonder if there is more to my brother than meets the eye.
Chapter Five
The door to the hotel opens and then shuts, and I’m still contemplating whether or not Andrew is fighting his inner serial killer when the door opens again. I expect Andrew to reappear and present me a chance to ask him point blank. What I get is Jack Cox in dark-rimmed glasses, a tuxedo, and his wavy hair slicked back. Apparently, I’m seeing serial killers everywhere, because Jack, the forensic tech, the wannabe detective, who is more obviously a serial killer than Andrew, is now present and accounted for. He’s also most certainly not invited to my father’s event. This little pip-squeak shows up wherever I am and it’s starting to get old.
I step forward, already in a confrontational charge, when Kane captures my arm and turns me around to face him. “We’re sitting ducks in this alleyway, Lilah.”
“He won’t be bold or stupid enough to come back.”
“First your father, now you. Third time’s a charm.”
“Agent Love!” Jack calls out, across the alleyway. “There’s been another murder.” He starts walking toward us.
Kane’s jaw clenches and he releases me because that’s the thing about Kane—he respects my job even when it’s inconvenient, which is most of the time. And thus far, all things Jack Cox are inconvenient, which is the least of what I suspect Kane feels about him right now. Because at this point, Jack Cox, who is at worst a serial killer and at least, just plain weird, is now standing right beside us.
For a man who’s afraid of Kane, he’s sure not acting afraid of Kane.
I rotate to face Jack. “How are you even here?”
“I showed my badge at the door,” he explains.
“Which should not have been enough at this type of an event. And why are you wearing a tux?”
“I thought I’d have more of a chance to get in like this and you weren’t answering your phone. Rollins tried to call you, and he said your father’s event was probably too important for you to respond. I knew that wasn’t true. You’d never pick your father over a crime scene. No real detective puts anything above the job.”
“You’re not exactly winning me over, Jack Cox,” Kane interjects. “Try again. How did you get into the party?”
