by Tijan
I gritted my teeth, readying for the bite, but my brother was there. “You fucking hurt her, you’ll lose your knee, asshole.”
The guy paused, and I had him. I would’ve had him anyway, but Channing’s threat saved me from getting a tetanus shot and stitches. A rush of feet stampeded over to us, and we were surrounded by the rest of my team.
My team.
Mine.
I was sweating. My heart was trying to pound out of my chest. That feeling resonated with me. But I had found my place. Finally.
Brock and Shetland got to us first. The rest were a few seconds after, Hawk bringing up the rear with wide eyes and her brows arched high. She had her hand on her radio, but she wasn’t talking or holding it in place. Both Big and Burly nodded to me, grunting.
The surprise was evident on both Brock and Shetland’s faces, too.
I was still holding the guy in place, and for a second, no one moved. They took in the scene. I looked at my brother, and he’d been watching me. A small grin was there, warmth and something else flooding over his face before he shook it a second. His hands went to his own vest that he was wearing and hooked in, hanging from it.
His chest lifted up and lowered. “Okay.”
He knew. He knew this was what I wanted to do, and I felt my own smile spreading. I couldn’t wait to tell Cross about this.
Channing’s eyes closed as he continued to shake his head, but then his hands dropped, and he stepped toward Brock. “Monroe. I’m assuming you’re my sister’s boss?” He gestured to me. “We tracked her phone, saw everything unfolding as we made our approach.”
Brock moved to shake Channing’s hand, and at the same time, Moose swooped down. He tapped my arm, and as I let go, he hauled the guy off of me and shoved him at Big. Then his hand went to me and I was airborne in the next moment. I was hauled up, set on my feet, and hands were patting me down.
Channing was watching.
When Moose stepped back, he nodded at him. “No holes or cuts. She’s in one piece, just scraped up a bit.”
I looked at Moose, and his eyes were twinkling at me. He cuffed me on the back of my arm. “Did good, Little Monroe.”
I grinned and hit his chest. “Thanks.”
Hawk moved in as Big and Burly slapped cuffs on the guy and moved him to their truck. Hawk looked me up and down, doing her own check. “Damn. I didn’t know you had that in you.” She looked at Brock. “She’s like a spider monkey. Did you know that?”
He shook his head, giving me another assessing look, and then returning back to my brother. “Gramps and Bonnie said she could hold her own.”
“Damn right she can.” Channing came for me, his arms opened, and I stepped into them.
He hugged me, squeezing me, and I knew he was proud of me. He cupped the back of my head, and whispered before stepping back, “Jesus. Please just don’t die doing this work.”
I tipped my head back, a wry grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Back at you.”
Shared understanding and acknowledgement flowed between us.
We were both Monroes. We both came out of our home, no matter how broken it was, and we were here. We were both doing the same thing. We were at different points, but this was a commonality. I knew my brother needed the fighting, but so did I…and he knew that, too.
He cupped the back of my head one last time, and moved in. His lips pressed to my forehead. “Fucking love you, sis.”
I clasped him back, just hugging him.
Then he stepped back, letting me go, and a whole different look came over him. Edgy, wariness, and danger. It was strong and sudden, enough that everyone around us quieted, picking up something new was coming. At this, Channing grated out, “We need to talk about Dad.”
BREN
After we took the bail jumper to jail, Channing and Moose met us back at the offices.
Justin was behind the register, helping out a group of guys and handing them their shoes. He watched us come in, all of us wearing our vests with an almost bored look on his face. Seeing my face, surprise tightened his features, and his head reared back a little. Then his gaze trailed behind me, and I knew he was seeing my brother. His eyes got bigger.
Then he hit Moose, and they were half-crawling into his forehead.
Yeah. Moose had that effect.
Gramps and Bonnie were there, both smiling wide when they saw Channing. There were hugs, greetings. A good pat on my back from Gramps. His hand took hold of my shoulder, and he squeezed in affection. “What’d I tell you?” He was speaking to Brock. “Told you she was a good one.”
Bonnie moved in, brushing her hair back before she gave me a hug. “So proud of you, honey.”
Hawk was grabbing some coffee.
Why they kept having me bring coffee in when they had their own coffee pot was lost on me, but then again, bought coffee always tasted better somehow. Big and Burly were in the fridge, pulling out food items when we filtered in.
Brock leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. He hadn’t taken his vest off. No one had. He lifted his chin toward Channing. “I have to ask, you here for personal, professional, or both?” The real conversation piece was my father, and myself.
Channing’s gaze was on me as he answered, “Both.”
Moose went to join Big and Burly. They motioned for him to help himself to the sandwiches, and he started piling his own together.
“Then I have to ask, is your father coming here for his daughter or the Red Demons?”
I leaned back against the wall in my corner, listening, but not speaking up.
A darkness flitted in Channing’s gaze before he blinked, and it was gone. He shifted, turning to Brock. “How about you tell me about the Red Demons? I’ve done some research, but not enough.”
Brock’s eyes flitted closed a second as he began frowning. Then, his eyes still on Channing and he flattened his mouth. “I’d think you could tell us, actually. Heard you have something I’d like back.”
Channing’s eyes darkened. “Sure.” He dug in his pocket and tossed a USB in the air.
Brock caught it, cradling it where he did, and his eyes narrowed at my brother. “Something tells me this isn’t the only copy?”
“Nope.” Channing shook his head. “But can you really stand there and say I don’t have a right to what’s on there?”
Brock’s mouth tightened, but he didn’t answer.
And Channing’s head dipped down. “Let’s go over what you might need to know. Maxwell Raith helped me out with a situation. That’s it. That’s all you need to know. Bren’s not involved with the Red Demons. Neither am I. We’re not involved with our father.” My brother leveled him with a look. “And I’m hoping you’re not suggesting there’s anything more there, because if you were, then that’d be an insult. I wouldn’t want myself or my sister being insulted by you.”
A pregnant pause descended over the group after that.
Big and Burly had been sitting in two of the chairs, sandwiches on their plates. They froze.
Moose’s back was turned to us. He’d been reaching for a slice of cheese. He froze.
Hawk turned back to the group from pouring her coffee, her eyes going to Brock, me, my brother, and back to Brock.
Gramps blustered forward, “No, no, no.” He was waving his hand in the air, big smiles on his face. His voice came out sounding uneasy. “Of course, no disrespect was meant. Brock’s like you, I’m assuming. He’s dogged and thorough, and dedicated to not only doing his job, but also ensuring the safety of all our team members.” His eyes darted in my direction as he finished. His meaning was clear.
But Channing didn’t speak. He was waiting for Brock’s answer.
A slight growl in frustration came from him. “We kept your sister out of the loop for her sake. We didn’t want to put her in a potentially harmful position. After a brief exchange when we first hired her, we’ve not asked her about the Red Demons again, but since you’re here and since we got a tip that the Red
Demons are more focused on our team than normal, I need to know everything you know.”
“Then you know more than I do.”
“Is your father coming here to watch us, or is he coming here for his daughter?”
Channing didn’t respond.
Moose finished placing his cheese on his sandwich and looked over his shoulder to his own boss.
I was waiting myself.
Finally, Channing said, “I can’t answer that.” His gaze found mine, and he almost looked apologetic. “He’s been on an apology tour lately. He’s going to come and apologize to you. That’s all I can say about his intentions.”
“So he’s already here.” That came from my boss.
Channing said to me, “He wants to have dinner with us. You and me.”
Moose finished putting his sandwich together and turned around, holding it on a plate. He beamed. “Good old Derrick Monroe doesn’t know that I’m coming along.”
I hid a grin, but my head was swimming. Some of the adrenaline was wearing off from my tackle. The aches and the cuts on my hand from where I fell into the shrubbery were starting to throb. A wave of exhaustion rolled over me.
“Yeah. That sounds good.”
My tone came out meek, and I cursed because everyone’s attention went high at that.
Channing stepped forward. “You okay?”
My head was pounding, and I remembered that the jump had barreled into me, slamming me to the ground first. That side where he got me was throbbing. I raised a hand up to my face, cupping my cheek and hissed. “Bren?”
Shetland remarked, “She took a hit before she took the guy down.”
Hawk cursed, putting her coffee down. She moved to me, throwing Shetland a nasty look. “And you’re saying this now?”
He shrugged. “She said she was fine. She tackled him, for God’s sake.”
The room started moving around me. I blinked, trying to slow it down, but it went faster and faster.
“She might have a concussion.” That sounded like Channing. “Where’d she get hit?”
Another voice, this one sounding like Brock said, “I’d guess where she’s holding herself. Bren, you need to go to the hospital?”
Moose snickered. Or I thought it was Moose. “Dude, you so don’t know the Monroes.”
Someone moved toward me. Two people moved toward me.
A hand on my shoulder, that one felt soft, feminine.
Another took my arm, and they were bending in front of me. “Bren.” It was my brother. I kept blinking, trying to slow the room down, but it wasn’t working. He lowered his voice even more, concern edging in. “Do you have to go in?”
I grasped onto his arm and held firm. Maybe he could stop the room.
I was starting to feel nauseous.
Whatever I had in my stomach was coming up. Fast.
“She’s pale.”
My mouth clamped tight. I wasn’t going to throw up. Everything would be fine. This was not a big deal, not a deal at all. Definitely not big.
Channing’s hand grew tighter on me. “I gotta take her, just to be safe.”
Hawk said, “I’ll come with you. She’ll want another girl with her.”
She didn’t know me, but that thought was brief and fleeting, and why was my head hurting so bad?
I heard someone else snort. “She doesn’t know that Monroe either.”
I was being walked across the room, then led outside.
There was conversation happening behind me, but I couldn’t make out the individual voices or what they were saying. I was only aware of being led out into the sun, blinking and hissing, and feeling nauseous all over again. Then I was in a truck, my brother’s. I recognized the smell of bullets and coffee, and behind me I felt a dip in the truck.
The door opened.
Hawk scooted in, taking the side by the window. I was in the middle.
Channing came around, getting behind the wheel, and then Hawk gave us directions to the hospital.
After that, everything else just sucked.
CROSS
Jordan and Zellman were right on my heels when we hit the hospital.
I didn’t stop at the front desk. Moose was in the waiting room, and seeing us, he stood and pointed down a hallway. Turning the corner, Channing was at the end. He was standing by a desk, looking around him. Spotting us, he straightened, and a second later, a girl looked down our hallway.
I was guessing that was Hawk, based on Bren’s descriptions of ‘serious badass braids.’ The girl had a side braid going down both sides of her skull and falling close to her waist.
Jordan saw her and slowed down. “Whoa.”
I passed her, my chin lifting toward Bren’s brother. “Room?”
He knew. A nod to the right and a “146” was my response.
I headed that way, going into the ER section. He sent me to the main room, but from there, I saw Bren’s other boss standing just outside of an area sectioned off by a curtain. He glanced over, seeing me, and moved back for us. I didn’t look to see who all was following us. I didn’t care.
Sweeping in, I stopped at the end of her bed.
She was sitting up, the entire side of her face already bruising, and a nurse was taking her vitals.
Bren grinned at me, but she was wincing in pain. Shit. Her eyes weren’t totally focusing either.
I turned to her boss, scowling. “What happened?”
“A jump got her on his run for freedom. She took him down right afterwards.”
I was moving toward her, but glanced back at his words. “Alone?”
Zellman laughed.
Jordan suppressed a grin.
Yeah. None of us were surprised, but studying Brock a bit closer, he was. Some of the surprise was still in his tone, mixed with anger, frustration, and uneasiness.
“Hey.” I stepped closer to Bren.
She grinned at me, but those eyes still weren’t focusing. “Hey.”
I grimaced inside. She was definitely in pain.
I asked the nurse, “Concussion?”
She was eyeing me, biting the corner of her lip, but then nodded. “Yeah. We’ll have a list of things she’ll need to do or not do when she’s released.”
“Bren?”
She tipped her head up, an almost drunken smile there, and she opened her legs.
I couldn’t hold back. Stepping in, I slid a hand around her neck, gingerly cupping the back of her head. Angling my head, I tried to peer closer at where she’d taken the hit. It was already purpling with black mixed in.
She sighed, leaning into my touch. Her forehead came down to rest against my chest, her hands falling to my waist.
Zellman and Jordan moved in, standing on the other side of me. I felt the nurse watching us, now eyeing Jordan up and down. Brock had moved to the back as well. The female I was still assuming was Hawk stood next to him. Channing and Moose moved in on the other side of Bren’s bed, pushing the curtain back for them.
The nurse was taking them all in as well.
“Can we take her home?” Zellman wanted to know.
Now the nurse started studying him.
Jordan nudged Zellman with the back of his elbow, but Z ignored it, waiting for her answer.
She nodded, going back to Bren. “The doctor just finished up with her. She needs some downtime, avoidance of light as much as possible for a couple days. No TV. Nothing stimulating. Her brain needs to heal. She’ll be fuzzy for a few days still.”
Bren’s hand firmed on my stomach, sliding up under my shirt.
Yeah. The nurse noticed that, too, and I caught a soft sigh leave her as she moved around us, pulling the curtain back on her end. Bren fully pressed into me, both her arms sliding around my waist and tugging me to hugging her outright.
I looked over her head to Channing. “We need to talk at all?”
He was watching his sister, his eyes clouded over. “No.” He shook his head, motioning for Moose to move back. “We need to make a stop, then we’re
crashing in your basement.”
“Hey.” Jordan looked at them. “That’s where I sleep.”
“You sleep in the bedroom down there. Don’t forget, I know that house. I knew that house before you guys moved in. There’s a couch with a pullout mattress. We’re crashing there because I don’t want to be too far from Bren while I’m in town.”
Channing met my eyes again, holding them.
He was going to see their dad, or I was guessing so, but Bren had a concussion. That’s why that D word wasn’t being discussed in the open. He gave me a nod. I gave him one back, and he and Moose took off after that. Brock and Hawk stepped up, taking their places.
Her boss asked, “You got her?”
Another snort from Zellman, but he was grabbing Bren’s things.
I answered coolly, “Always.”
Jordan added, his tone just as cold, “We got her from here.”
Yeah. Hawk was now noticing him a whole lot more. That was an interesting turn of events.
He gave her the once-over, lingering on her ass as both of them followed where Channing and Moose had gone.
He glanced over. “How old does she look?”
Bren said into my chest, “She’s twenty-three.”
He shrugged. “That’s do-able for me.”
Bren lifted her head back, glaring at Jordan. “I don’t know, but I’m fairly certain she’s fucking Brock.”
“You don’t know?”
She shook her head at Jordan’s question. “I can’t tell. I just know she’s known him most her life. That, and Justin is her little brother.”
“The bowling alley guy?”
A slight nod before she winced and sighed heavily again. Her hands curled into my skin. “The bowling alley guy.”
Zellman grunted. “Huh. I’m thinking we need to go bowling a whole lot more.”
Jordan threw him a laugh as we all started heading out.
Bren slid off the table.
I considered just grabbing her, and lifting her, but I didn’t think she’d want the spectacle.
Then it wasn’t an issue.
She walked beside me, and Jordan took her other arm. Zellman went ahead of us, opening the doors, and once we were moving down the one hall, I tossed him my keys. He hurried ahead, and had the truck waiting for us as we walked outside to the parking garage. Once in the truck, Bren and I went to the back. I sat sideways and pulled her down so she was lounging against my chest.