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He leans his ass against the end of the arm of the sofa, folding his arms high on his chest. “Already done it. Rigs picked up a couple’a new bedrolls, and Minion needed new guy ropes for his tent. Otherwise, we’re all good.”
I nod, glance down at the rough patch of denim I pick at on my knee, and then peer at the guy in my periphery. “Somethin’ else?”
He stays frozen in position, the only movement the slight twitch of his eye. “Saw Tyke ride out with Rae earlier.”
“That he did.”
“Where they goin’?”
“Gettin’ her road gear.” I narrow my gaze on the older man.
He makes a gruff sound of understanding in the back of his throat. “Why ain’t she doin’ that with you?”
Shit. Here it comes. “I had other stuff to do.”
“Clearin’ scrap?” He scoffs. “Like you couldn’t asshole that onto someone else.”
“Somethin’ you’re struggling to say, there, old boy?” I lean back against the cushions, legs wide and arms high on my chest.
His smile spreads, slow and full of trouble. “Just strikes me as weird, Dig, that your woman rides out with your brother to do somethin’ you should wanna do for her. That’s precious bondin’ time, choosin’ the shit she’s gonna wear while she’s on the back ofyourbike, representin’you.”
And that’s the goddamn problem, ain’t it? I don’t even know if she’s going to be on the back of my bike when it comes time to ride out. “I don’t see a problem with it.”
Turnip sucks in a breath, rising to his full height. “Yeah, well, you should.” He starts away, tossing over his shoulder as he goes, “Makin’ it look an awful lot like she’s Tyke’s, Dig. Not yours.”
Bastard may as well have stuck a goddamn knife in my gut and torn me open navel to chest for how I feel.I’ve fucked it up—again.Too complacent. Too much the peacekeeper. Always there for everyone to use as a doormat, and so, in the process, I lose hold of what means something to me.Gotta do better.Got to show them both that I’m in the game.
That I matter.
Rising from the seat, I tug my phone from my pocket and punch through to Kane’s number.
He answers as I take the stairs two at a time to head for my room. “‘Sup?”
“What you got on this afternoon?”
He makes a grumble down the line. “Some fuckin’ free time before I’m stuck starin’ at my old man’s back for hours on end. Why?”
“Been thinkin’ about our issue from the other day.”
His tone hardens. “Fucker been in contact?”
“He ain’t, and that’s what bothers me.” The decision was made not to entertain Volkov’s bullshit demands, assuming he’d throw his fucking hissy fit. The fact he’s been dormant worries me some.
“Tell me what you need.” His voice echoes a little, as though he’s moved somewhere enclosed. More private.
“Take a ride through the blocks,” I say. “Go see what those low-level fuckers have to say. I want to know if there’s rumblin’ of something big on the horizon.” The predicament has itched at my synapses, but I kept opinions to myself, waiting for my brother to come to the same conclusion.
But his preoccupation with Rae has blurred his vision and narrowed his focus on her instead of looking at the bigger picture. The issue ain’t with the girl at the heart of it all. The issue is with what happens on the fringes.
“What you thinkin’?” Kane asks.
I freeze in the middle of my room, head turned, and gaze locked on the doors of the gun cabinet. “If Terry ain’t sayin’ shit to us, and Volkov’s gone quiet too, what does that make you think?” I want to hear if he comes to the same conclusion.
I want to know I’m not just paranoid.
“They’re talkin’ to each other.”
Bingo.“Rattle some cages, Kane. Take Buster with you. Go see what those tweakin’ fuckers have to say.”
