Page 8 of Theo

“Now? It’s nighttime.” I point to the darkened patio doors as if he needed a visual reminder that the sun has gone down.

He laughs, using my head to help leverage himself off the couch. “Yeah, Theo’s on nights right now.”

“Mobsters have a night shift?”

Dane snorts, flipping me off. “Stop saying mobsters. It makes you sound so old.”

“I am old.”

“Thirty-five is not old,” he scoffs, stopping at the edge of the hallway. “Where are you staying tonight?”

“I figured I’d end up at Mom and Dad’s, eventually.”

Dane wrinkles his nose at the idea of staying with our parents and gestures toward the room at the end of the hall. “Stay here. The bed will be empty, and it isn’t safe to drive around at night.”

“It isn’t safe to drive around, yet you’re going out there to work.” I raise my brows as if to challenge him on the point, but he doesn’t take the bait.

“I’m prepared, remember?” He pulls the gun from its hiding spot on the end of the couch, waving it gently back and forth as if to emphasize his point. “Besides, I’m not alone. Mateo is head of Border Security now.”

“Our cousin, Mateo?”

“The very one.”

“That makes me feel a little better,” I begrudgingly admit. “At least he isn’t a little shithead like you.”

Dane snorts, shaking his head at me before heading to his bedroom to change. Ten minutes later, he’s stomping back through the living room, dressed head to toe in black. “Well, don’t you look like a textbook criminal?”

Dane flips me off behind his back as he grabs his wallet and keys at the kitchen counter. “Be good. Don’t leave the apartment. Lock the door behind me, and?—”

He stops mid-sentence, his eyes tracking something across the parking lot. Frowning, he moves to the sliding glass door for a better look. Whatever he sees seems to ease the tension out of his shoulders. “And help yourself to anything in the kitchen, though there isn’t much in there.”

“What did you see?” I try for casual, but can tell I’ve missed the mark based on the look Dane gives me.

“Tell me you’ll stay inside.”

“Yes, Mother.” I parrot his words from earlier back to him, matching his permanently sarcastic tone.

Dane smiles, flipping me off one more time before he steps out the front door. “Lock this.”

“Lock it yourself, asshole,” I shout after him as he pulls the door closed. I wait to hear him lock the door, but the sound doesn’t come. Sighing, I drag myself off the couch. I’m halfway across the room when headlights catch my eye through the glass doors. Turning, I see Dane’s car pull out of the parking lot, but that isn’t the only thing I see.

Well, fuck me.

FOUR

BUMP IN THE NIGHT

THEO

The kid definitely saw me pull into the parking lot.

Cursing my bad timing, I throw the SUV into park, settling against the seat as I wait for him to come ask what I’m doing here.

Dane Lawson. I knew little about him before now, except that he’s Charity’s much younger brother. He didn’t visit her in New York, and she rarely came to see him here, so I never gave him much thought.

Scrolling through the document Rollo emailed me, my eyes catch on a few key points. Dane was involved in Malik Danner’s shooting over the winter. Apparently, Charity’s brother is the one who found Malik and took him to Anita’s medical practice. He saved Malik’s life, and he’s reaping the benefits of his heroism if the number written on the salary line is to be believed.

I didn’t make money like that until I was in my thirties, and this kid can’t even legally drink.

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