Page 19 of Cohesion

Jericho leaned back against the kitchen counter and crossed his arms over his chest. A defensive mood and one that created a visible line between him and them. “Yes.”

“And you knew he was my brother.”Before you slept with mewas left unsaid, but they all heard it.

“I was aware of you in the most basic way. Riley’s relationship with us is… complicated, but it’s always been more professional than personal. We help him, he helps us.”

“So he works for you,” Peyton said flatly.

Jericho snorted. “Riley doesn’t workforanyone. Not even the people that think they’re his superiors. He workswithus, not for us. And only when it benefits him, or he feels like it.”

Quinn massaged his forehead, feeling a headache coming on. “So Riley works with you, and Greer works for you. Is there anyone else I should know about?”

Jericho licked his lips. “Not that I can think of.”

“A convenient answer.”

Jericho stiffened. “There’s no one else.” He pushed off the counter. “Is the interrogation over, or…?”

“That’s how he got information about the list and the other shit that he pulled out of his ass while he was talking to Sweeney.”

“Well, yeah,” Jericho said. “Oh.” He clicked his fingers. “The lawyer.”

“The lawyer,” Quinn repeated, shaking his head. He had no idea what that meant.

“The one representing Sweeney? I imagine he was there. He’s ours, too. We had to call him up from Melbourne. We don’t actually have an abundance of defence guys in our pockets.” He smirked. “Sebastian’s so good, we’ve never needed many.”

Quinn wasn’t going there. Sebastian’s decision to do business with them was his own and had nothing to do with why Quinn was upset with Jericho. Sebastian wasn’t the one hiding secrets.

Jericho moved around the bench and opened a cupboard, pulling out three glasses. “I’m a private person, and I don’t easily hand out information about myself or the people around me. I won’t apologise for that. You want to know something about me? Then ask me. And I’ll tell you the truth.”

“About anything?”

Jericho shrugged, going for casual, though Quinn could see the tense line of his shoulders. “Sure. Let’s try that. You want a drink?”

“No, thank you.”

Jericho eyed the glasses, left them where they were, and then pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge. He threw it to Peyton before grabbing his own. He also came out with a blueberry protein yoghurt and granola pot. The single-serve ones that came prepackaged from the supermarket. He pulled a spoon from the drawer and handed them off to Quinn.

Quinn took them without thought. “What is this?”

“What it says on the package. You seem hungry.”

“Are you calling mehangry?” Quinn asked incredulously.

Jericho pasted a smile on his face. “If the shoe fits... Besides, Will offered to make you something before you left, and you said no. Have you eaten since then?”

“He had to go to work,” Quinn said defensively. He’d had at least one slice of the toast he’d been making. He hadn’t needed Will to make something specially for him.

“It would have made him happy,” Peyton said quietly.

Quinn clenched his hands around the plastic container. “Next time I’ll accept.” He found a seat at the table, didn’t bother looking for a space on the table itself that wasn’t covered with a plant—what was that about?—and peeled the lid off the granola, pouring it into the yoghurt. He eyed Peyton and Jericho, who were standing with shoulders pressed together. “How was orientation?”

He still wasn’t entirely comfortable with Peyton working here. He knew why Hunter and Jericho wanted him: Peyton was competent, dangerous, and his resumé spoke for itself. He even understood why Peyton had accepted. Peyton was looking for a place to belong, to have purpose. Not just any place. Quinn knew that Riley had given him application paperwork for the force that he hadn’t done anything with.

No, Peyton had been looking for somewhere like this. Where the light and the dark played, where he could find acceptance.

Quinn knew in his heart that this wasn’t the place where he would find what he really needed.

No matter what Jericho said, or what he and Hunter saw in Peyton, Quinn had known himbeforehe’d become this hardened version of himself. Peyton wasn’t like them even if he thought he was. He hadn’t grown up in the same environment, had been raised in a loving, warm home with parents who’d spoiled him rotten. Quinn didn’t know what kind of life Jericho had led, or what demons were in his past, but he was certain it wasn’t anything like Peyton’s. His past had shaped him, the same way Peyton’s had. There was a softness in their ex-soldier that Jericho didn’t have, one that couldn’t be created or ever really destroyed.

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