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“Dark days, brother, dark days,” Nova says, his shoulders shaking in a faux shudder.
Silas glares at both of us, pulling out a chair and sinking into it. His mouth pinches into a frown. “We don't talk about those days. We agreed.”
“Of course. I would never talk about the six months you spent driving him around, listening to Taylor Swift on repeat just so he would take a thirty-minute nap.” I manage to get the whole sentence out. Barely. My lip twitches, and I know once Nova breaks, I won't be able to hold it in either.
“And we would never talk about the day you started singing her songs without even thinking about it,” Nova says. Laughter swallows up the last few words, and that's all it takes.
I let my amusement free, the chuckles lifting some of the perpetual weight around my neck. “What was it?Exile?”
“All Too Well,” Nova says.
Silas plants his elbow on the table and points his index finger at Nova. “First off, why do you even remember that? And secondly”—he points between the two of us—”you're both a bunch of assholes.”
He drops his hand to the table, fiddling with the baby monitor in front of him. It's the same one he's had since Hunter was a baby, giving him a video feed of his room.
“Yeah, yeah. Let's get into it. I'm beat.” Nova sighs, letting the laughter fall.
Silas arches a brow, his gaze on the monitor. The sound is off, but there's a volume indicator on the bottom of the screen. “Tired from a day spent drinking?”
Nova scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Fuck off, Silas. I was working on the Blake order this morning.”
“Phase one or two?” I ask.
Nova's talent is unmatched, not only in our area, but quite possibly the whole country. That guy has more creative talent in his fingertips than some people ever have in a lifetime. He's good. Too fucking good to be stuck in Rosewood.
But he doesn't see it that way. He chose to come back home, help put together the dream the three of us have had for the compound and the Reapers since we were kids.
“One,” he says. “All the file said was red, no animals. Do you know how many options that gives me?”
“Too many,” I murmur with a nod. “But you can do it, man. There's a reason your clients book out a year in advance for your work. You'll figure it out.”
“I always do,” he says, his gaze on me.
“Back to The Wild Boar,” Silas says, tapping his fingertip against the top of the baby monitor. “I don't want to leave Hunter alone too much longer.”
I jerk my chin toward the direction of their house. “He's fine. You've got eyes on him, and you're sixty seconds away if he wakes up.”
Silas looks at me, his face drawn tight and worry etched along his brow. “A lot can happen in sixty seconds.”
“Aye, but not to Hunter and not to us. We're triple protected behind security and fences,” I assured him.
“Eddie called us in because he's noticed an uptick in out-of-towners in the last two weeks. At first, he chalked it up to tourist season, people visiting local family members,” Nova says.
“Why didn't he tell us his concerns sooner?” I ask.
Nova lifts a shoulder and lets it fall down. “Fuck if I know. But if I had to guess, I'd say he wasn't sure. Until tonight. When he caught some assholes dealing in the back of the bar.”
I lean forward in my chair. Tension lines my neck instantly. “Who?”
“Eddie didn't recognize 'em, no visible affiliation. But he remembers seeing Crestview on one of their IDs when they ordered a round.”
“Motherfuckers.” I grit my teeth and shake my head.
“We don't know that yet.” Silas continues to tap his finger on the top of the monitor, his speed getting quicker. “Not every asshole in Rosewood is a Reaper, so we can't assume the same about the Hell Hounds.”
“No, but we can assume that if they're pulling shit at The Wild Boar, then they're either testing our boundaries, seeing if we're still strong enough to hold 'em. Or they're looking for trouble. Trouble we're not in the business of fixing anymore.” I keep my voice calm, despite the anger swirling inside of me. It rises like a wave, growing bigger and bigger each time.
We put everything we had into ending the war and getting out of the game. It took Ray—my uncle, their dad, our president—and it nearly took Nova. We lost too many brothers during those years. And I'll be damned if all our sacrifice was in vain.
