Page 39 of July 27

He couldn't sit in the cottage, driving himself fucking nuts, wondering how Rachel was doing without him.

She'd go on with her life. He needed to do the same.

"Once we're done working with Moroad, you return to running security." Jagger's gaze hardened. "Don't get killed and make me regret this."

Ruger smacked Jagger in the chest. For the first time since that fateful evening when he got arrested for holding the gun that Jagger had used to kill his father's killer, Ruger felt some of the resentment lift off his shoulders.

Jagger raised his arm. Ruger clasped his hand. They were brothers. Loyalty to the end. No matter what.

The way it used to be before he was incarcerated.

Chapter Twenty

Corbin walked into the house without knocking. Rachel picked up her plate from the scarred wooden table and entered the kitchen. Since she'd returned to the house with Shady, men had come and gone throughout the day and night.

"Sis, bring me the shoe box," shouted Shady.

She picked up the box and carried it into the other room. Plopping it down on the couch, she turned and headed to the hallway. She wasn't going to stand around and watch her brother sell drugs or whatever else he could get his sticky hands on.

Every day was the same. For her brother, it was a wild scramble to make a few bucks.

The house was old. It was paid for. It might not be much, but it was the only home she'd ever known.

She only wished it was safe.

Each night, she barred her bedroom door, afraid her brother's enemies would barge in the house and kidnap her again.

Shady was no protector. He used the darkness to roam the town with the guys he hung around. She was lucky if he came back before daylight. Then, he slept all morning until the late afternoon.

She rubbed the back of her neck. Her brother would be leaving soon.

Opening her dresser drawers, she couldn't find what she needed. She went to her closet. The black garbage sack that held her clothes from Ruger's cottage sat on the floor in front of the closet door, keeping it from closing.

She pulled out a black hoodie and a pair of boyfriend-cut jeans that were always too big for her but would hide her body. She quickly changed her clothes and looked in the mirror.

There was nothing appealing about her. She appeared straight as a stick. It was perfect. She found her black Converse and slipped them on her feet.

Bang. Bang.

She froze at the knock on the bedroom. "Yeah?"

"I'm going out."

Not wanting Shady to see her, she yelled, "Whatever."

"Get out here for a sec."

"No."

"Damnit." The door shook. "I'll break the door—"

She opened the door. "Knock it off. You can't come back and start ruling the house like the last five years didn't exist. Can't you just chill and be happy you're not in prison?"

"This isn't about me. I'm trying to put food on the table." Shady looked over her head and scanned the room. "What are you doing in there?"

Her brother wasn't worried about her safety. He wanted to know if she had anything worth selling.

Years ago, her dad had a rule that her bedroom was off-limits. Shady and his friends couldn't set foot in her private area. Her clothes and costume jewelry belonged to her.

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