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“You seen Bambi today?” I call as I enter the garage we’ve converted into a gym. Logan is lying on the bench, pressing at least three hundred pounds as he does every other day. He has always been the most disciplined of the three of us regarding his fitness. He never misses a day’s training. Even when he was injured, he would work out the other parts of his body until he decided he was fit enough to train, whichever part was healing. Medics and physios gave up trying to tell him what he should and shouldn’t do as they knew he would never listen.
I lean against the treadmill to the side and wait for him to finish his set, knowing better than to interrupt when he’s in the zone. I watch him complete twenty-four more lifts before placing the bar back on the stand behind him and sitting up.
“What?” he asks, grabbing his towel from the floor beside the bench and wiping his face.
“Have you seen, Bambi? I don’t think he came home last night.”
Logan sighs and gives me the side eye.
“In other words, you are worried you aren’t Chelsea’s favourite anymore, and he got more action than you did.”
“No, I’m worried something has happened,” I argue a little too loudly.
“Yeah, between him and Chelsea. You wouldn’t give a shit if he had taken someone else with him last night.” Logan stands from the bench and wraps the towel around his neck before walking to the treadmill I’m leaning against. “If you are going to throw a tantrum every time he takes her out, then this is going to get complicated fast,” he adds whilst picking the settings he wants.
“Whatever, you know you are just as interested in what happened between them last night as I am. You just refuse to acknowledge it,” I snap, walking over to the small fridge we have in here and grabbing a bottle of water.
“I don’t give a shit if they slept together or not,” Logan argues as he starts the machine. “At the end of the day, all I care about is if he got that contract or not. It would bring in a hell of a lot of money, which means more funds to be spent on the other stuff.”
Just as I go to argue, I hear the door shutting and turn to see Drew in last night's clothes walking in, looking very smug.
“Guess who sealed the deal,” he announces proudly.
“With Chelsea or Godfrey?” Logan asks with one arched brow. Doesn’t care my ass. He wants to know what happened between the two of them as much as I do. It’s not because I’m jealous; for some reason, it doesn’t occur to me that Drew is competition when it comes to Chelsea. It’s hard to explain, but the thought of him and her hitting it off in that way feels right.
“Godfrey was a prick who managed to push all my buttons, and if it weren’t for Chelsea, I would have blown my lid.”
“What happened?” Logan asks, stopping the treadmill to give Drew his full attention. I walk towards them and lean against the machine next to him.
Drew quickly fills us in on the conversation and how it triggered his PTSD. Out of all of us, Drew is the only one who suffers from the lasting emotional effects of the missions we took on over the years. We have always joked that he is the most sensitive out of the three of us, but we never mean it in a nasty manner. He is our brother and watching him have a breakdown a few years back was hard as fuck. I flew back and forth to make sure he knew I was there. It was one reason we chose to set up home here rather than in the States.
Drew is just telling us about getting to Chelseas when Logan stops him.
“Hang on, what did she say about the PTSD?” he asks, frowning.
“That she understood the signs and how it feels,” Drew replies, rubbing his neck.
“She has PTSD? What the fuck from?” Logan demands, looking furious.
“I don’t know she didn’t want to discuss it further. Then we kind of got distracted. But this morning, I noticed she has three different locks on her bedroom door, two on the bathroom, three on her daughter’s room and four on the front door.”
“What the fuck?” Logan and I shout out together both standing tall.
“I know. I couldn’t ask about it as I was hiding from her daughter this morning. I didn’t leave her bathroom until they had gone to work and school. But when I saw how many locks Chels had on her door, I checked the rest of the house. It’s like Fort Nox, with cameras on the inside as well. I didn’t want to check around too much in case she was watching, but I wouldn’t be surprised if they were in hiding or something.”
The three of us stay quiet for a moment as if all trying to work out what they could possibly be hiding from or, more importantly, who.
“Surely if it were that bad, she wouldn’t have signed up to a dating app, of all things?” Logan says, picking up his water from the floor where he had placed it with his towel and taking a sip.
“Maybe they were there from when she moved in and hasn’t taken them down yet?” I suggest. The other two shrugs but don’t look convinced.
“So other than all that I take it the night ended well?” I ask which causes a grin to re appear on Drews face.
“Very well, you weren’t wrong; I could eat that sweet pussy all night.”
“If you two are going to compare notes like fucking teenagers, fuck off out of here so I can train in peace!” Logan points to the door before restarting the treadmill. Drew and I both know there is no point continuing to talk in there. He will make it his mission to be as loud as possible until we leave.
We exit the garage, which leads to the utility room and kitchen. I head straight for the coffee pot and hold up a mug to Drew, who nods whilst sitting at the table. The house isn’t big, it’s a three-bedroom detached house in a standard neighbourhood. But it’s enough for the three of us. Sure, we get the odd, strange look, and I think people around here assume we are all in a relationship together, but it doesn’t bother us.
