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“I heard. He’s here with me. I’ll talk to him, but he wouldn’t—”
“Don’t tell me he wouldn’t.” My voice is cold, hard, that need for revenge fire in my blood once again. “Because I could really shove those words down your throat right now and enjoy it.”
“She’s my sister, North. And you might not believe it, but I love the hell out of her. Send your man, now. I’m at—”
“I know where you’re at.”
I disconnect and eye Savage. “You know what to do.”
“Beat his ass or talk to him?”
“I can’t make that decision right now because in my present state of mind it won’t be the right one.” I lean back in my seat and hope like hell Brody has Emma and that she’s safe and well.
Chapter one hundred nine
Jax
In the half hour it takes us to get to the bar, Brody has apparently, per the bartender, guzzled half a bottle of whiskey, and he’s now barely able to stand up. I lose my shit, when I never lose my shit. I yank him up from the table he’s laying his head on and shove him against the wall. “Where’s Emma?”
“You can’t keep up with your woman?” he slurs. “Me either. Jill still hates me. She told me I was never as good as Hunter.” He starts crying.
“Jesus,” I murmur, grabbing his face. He’s losing his fucking mind but so am I right now. “Where is Emma?”
He starts heaving. I let go of him, and he buckles at the waist and falls to his knees. I glance at the bartender, pull a wad of cash from my pocket and slap it down. “For your trouble and his bill.”
“Knew your father,” he says. “Know you’ve been through a lot. No worries here.”
I nod my appreciation and turn to Savage. “I don’t think we can trust anything he says until he sobers up.”
“We can sober him up with some adrenaline.”
“Just do it safely.”
“Why do I feel like you won’t be here?”
“Wewon’t be here. Have your team do it.” I think back to the promise I made to Emma about not letting her go. I think of the gut feeling I ignored when I left her. I need to listen to the one I have now. “We’re going to San Francisco.” I dial Eric.
“What’s the word?” he answers.
“You still holding that plane?” I ask.
“You bet your ass.”
“I’m coming back. Now.”
“We’re still not clear for takeoff. It might be a few hours.”
“Of course, it will,” I murmur.
We disconnect, and Smith walks into the bar with two additional men, clearly ready to handle Brody. I kneel in front of my brother who is now sitting against the wall, face tilted down. “Brother,” I say.
He forces his head up, a slow lift that he accents with a groan. “Iamyour brother,” he says. “Don’t forget that.”
Nothing about that statement sits well with me. “But that will not protect you if I find out you hurt Emma.”
“I—didn’t. I didn’t hurt Emma. Ass-hole.” He lowers his head.
I sit there a minute, shaken by his erratic behavior. No one who didn’t know him would think that he was the brain behind a chain of his own whiskey and cigar bars. No one would know how brilliant he is. And he is. Losing Hunter fucked with his head, beyond what is reasonable and expected. I hope like hell he didn’t lose his shit and hurt Emma. Because if he did, I’ll kill him. If he didn’t, then I need to rein him in and get him help.
