Page 45 of Day Shift

“Exactly.” He grinned. “But you gotta know that I value honesty. I may not have many friends, but I’m completely loyal to those I do have. Anyone who knows me knows that my friends mean the world to me, and I’d go to war for them. I’d give my life for my brothers and those I call friends. Honesty is at the heart of trust, and trust doesn’t come easy to me. I want to trust you, my Angel, and I want you to trust me. So no secrets between us, okay?”

The intensity of this man’s fierce declaration—his request for honesty—made me feel like some sort of sacred bond was being formed. I didn’t know if I had the emotional fortitude to live up to his expectations.

Just then, a man who looked an awful lot like Atticus strolled out the back door and onto the patio, interrupting the moment and leaving Conan’s question unanswered. “Hey, guys,” he said, snagging a handful of chips.

“Brixxie! Hey, brother! Long time no see,” Atticus said, pulling a longneck from the ice-filled tub. Pressing it into his palm, he gave him a one-armed hug.

Conan, still holding my hand, pulled me over to the man. “Angel, this is my other brother, Braxton.”

Braxton took the side of my arm in a firm grip. “You look a hell of a lot better than when I picked you up. How are you doing?” My breath caught at the sight of his big, beautiful smile. Damn, the Thorin brothers had good looks in spades.

“I’m doing great,” I said. “All fixed up…well, except for the giant black hole inside of my head,” I chuckled, shrugging my shoulders.

“At least you haven’t lost your sense of humor,” Braxton smiled, turning back to Atticus. “When’s the food gonna be ready? I’m starving.”

“Soon. You guys have a seat and enjoy your drinks while Sam and I finish up,” he replied.

Conan, Braxton, and I sat down at a large wooden table and took in the view of the bay that ran along the edge of the property. We laughed and talked while the evening slid into a warm, balmy night. Braxton raised his beer, nodding toward the setting sun. “Longest day of the year. Perfect night to share good food with friends and family. Happy summer solstice, or as the Vikings call it, Midsummer! Skål!” he shouted, and we all clinked our glasses and bottles together.

Bethany, already a bit tipsy, flashed a wicked grin and chimed in, “Ooo, after dinner, we all need to go skinny-dipping.” She leaned toward me, giggling, and took a quick sip of her wine. “Last fall, Sam and I went skinny-dipping in the hot tub at their old place. It was an act of rebellion after Atticus made up a bunch of ridiculous house rules when she first started staying with him. We systematically broke every single one within hours. What choice did he give us with such outlandish demands?” She and Sam both laughed out loud.

Atticus’s head whipped around, and he shot us an exasperated look as a smirk curved over his lips. “Oh, that night will be forever burned into my memory,” he said. “Someone had to lay down the law, didn’t they, Samantha?” He leaned over and kissed her on the cheek before giving her butt a hard smack, nearly causing her to drop the platter of grilled corn she was attempting to set on the table.

She yelped, and her face flashed beet red, but the way she bit her lip told me that the hot-tub incident was a fond memory.

Atticus smiled, a glint of nostalgia in his eyes. “Yeah, with a friend like Bethany, I thought Sam needed a whole list of rules. Nothing too crazy, just something to keep these girls in check. Not that it did a bit of good.”

Bethany quipped, “Please, you were just too uptight! You needed someone like me to shake things up. Sam needed a partner in crime.”

“Partner in crime is an accurate description, all right. You’re always trying to corrupt her and make her a wild woman like you,” Atticus said, laughing as he scraped his fingers through his hair.

Bethany laughed too, shoving Conan’s shoulder. “Nothing’s wrong with having a little fun. Right, Conan? You can’t tell me you’re not the free spirit of the family, the one who keeps things interesting. You know how to have a good time while also keeping an important day job.”

“Barely,” Atticus shot back with a sarcastic laugh.

“Don’t drag me into this,” Conan said, pointing his beer bottle at Bethany.

At that, everyone laughed. While we waited for the food to come off the grill, we sat back and sipped our drinks, the conversation flowing easily. I mostly watched, taking note of the group’s dynamics, intrigued by their deep connections and contrasting personalities. It was during this lighthearted banter that Conan segued to a more serious discussion.

He leaned back, beer in hand, and gave me a half smile. “Everyone here knows I’m an open book…well except Angel, that is. You guys might call me a free spirit, but it hasn’t been all fun and games, as you know. I wouldn’t want Angel to get the wrong idea about me.”

He gave me a long look before continuing. His eyes were a silent reflection of some inner turmoil. I could tell he wanted me to know there was more to him than just a playboy.

I leaned in, fascinated by the change in his tone.

“Yeah, Atticus has always been the serious one, keeping everything bottled up,” he began carefully. “It almost cost him his happiness too. But thanks to Sam, he’s learning to let go a bit.”

He hesitated, gathering his thoughts, then said, “You don’t know this as the others do, but things were pretty rough for us brothers growing up.” Conan’s eyes traced the patterns on his beer bottle. “When I was six, our mom…she tried to end it all. Survived that only to die from drinking herself to death two years later. Dad followed a year after when his heart gave out.”

The silence that followed was heavy. Even Murphy, the pup, seemed to sense the shift, settling down by Conan’s feet.

There was more than met the eye with Conan, and I wanted to find out more.

“It was a messed up time,” he continued softly. “Atticus, being the oldest, had to step up fast, taking care of Braxton and me. He was barely sixteen. Imagine that—having to suddenly be the man of the house.” Conan’s voice was tinged with a rawness that made my heart ache for him.

Bethany nudged him gently. “But you turned it around, right? You’re not that wild kid anymore.”

Conan nodded, his brow furrowing slightly. “I didn’t understand it all back then. I just knew our parents weren’t around like they should’ve been. After they both died, I just…lost it. Yeah, I was definitely out of control for a while. As I got older, you could say I was a guy with a chip on his shoulder, looking for a good time and without a worry as to who got hurt in the process. Getting into a brawl was the only thing that made me feel much of anything. Pain was always a good reminder that I was still alive. So, anyway, I moved to Huntington Beach the day I turned eighteen, started surfing, doing drugs, partying like there was no tomorrow. I used people—especially women—and lived only for the next thrill. It was a shitty way to treat those around me. But at the time I didn’t care. I lived from moment to moment. Man, Atticus had to bail me out more times than I can count.”

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