Page 39 of Brutal Ice

“You told me that you’d stopped hunting.”

Yeah, well. “I lied.”

Beau growled.

“And if I hadn’t lied, if I had stopped, Violet would be dead right now. So how about you stop reading me the riot act, and you get on board with this hunt?” There was no need for the moral high road BS. Beau had once hunted with him. During their time in Savannah, they’d taken out two murderers in the area.

They hadn’t killed those men.

They’d stopped them.

Two men. Sadistic predators who’d gotten off on torturing others. Murderers who’d needed to be stopped.

But those weren’t the only hunts Royal had ever done. And even though Beau swore he was done with hunts…I’ll keep hunting without him. Because Royal wasn’t going to let the bastard who’d taken Violet just get away. Hell, no.

Royal rolled back his shoulders. “From where I’m standing, my last hunt counts as a win.”

“Even though the killer got away?”

“Momentarily got away.”

Beau grunted. “You’re playing with fire.”

“Nah. You’re the one who does that. Not me. I’m just helping out a pretty dancer.”

“You’re fucking a pretty dancer.”

He dropped his relaxed pose. “Watch what the hell you say about her.” His hands slapped on the bar’s countertop, and he leaned toward his brother. Got practically nose to nose. “She’s an innocent in all this.”

“An innocent who knows what you like to do for fun on the weekend. In case you missed it, your hobby isn’t freaking typical. It’s dangerous and scary as hell, and it’s also the kind of thing that can get you tossed into a cage.” Beau’s eyes glittered. “I’ve been in enough of those over the years. I’ve tried to keep you out of them.”

Beau had always been looking out for him. Ever since they were kids. Beau was the only family that Royal had in this world. The only person who actually gave a shit about him. So Royal took a breath and took a step back. “I’m in control.”

“No, you’re not. And I think that, with her, your control is going to get weaker and weaker.”

Royal lifted his hands from the counter. “You’re wrong.”

“Am I? You were at her house last night. You gonna really try and sell me the story that you were keeping your hands off her?”

He actually had kept them off. Mostly. “I was on the couch. She was in the bedroom.”

Beau’s eyes narrowed.

“Someone tried to scare her last night. Someone who did not like the fact that I was in her home.”

“You think it was the killer?”

“I think…” A slow exhale. “I think I need to call in a few favors. I’ve always had your back, right? Bodyguard work. Some bending of the law. Whatever you needed.” He would always give Beau whatever his brother needed. “This time, I need you to work some magic for me.”

A furrow appeared between Beau’s eyes. “I’m listening.”

“You’re tight with the Ice Breakers.”

“I don’t know if ‘tight’ is the word I’d use. But, yeah, I know some of them.”

The Ice Breakers. A cold case solving crew that had been making headlines quite a bit in the last two years. From what Royal had been able to discover, the group had first started online. They’d all come from different backgrounds. Civilian life. Military. Former law enforcement. Billionaire Archer Radcliffe pretty much bankrolled the operation these days—mostly because his wife, one of the original Ice Breakers, had helped to clear him of a murder suspicion that had dogged the guy’s steps for years.

One of the core Ice Breakers actually lived in town. A badass SOB who went by the name of Saint. Royal and Saint had crossed paths a few times. Mostly because Alice, Saint’s wife, ran one hell of a speakeasy. Royal had picked up a few tricks and tips from Saint. But it wasn’t Saint’s help that he needed right now. Royal tilted his head to the right, ran a hand over the stubble that coated his jaw, and asked, “You ever hear about a woman called the doctor of the dead?”

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