Page 8 of Man of Honor

My brother let out a breath, and for the first time, he relaxed, dropping his military posture by a hair.He glanced at me, and his eyes softened.“I’ve got this,” he said. Then his gaze shifted to Wyatt, and that brief spark of humanity died.“Get him out of those cuffs before I slap your ass with a lawsuit.”

He was out the door in an instant, leaving only the faintest trace of Creed Adventus cologne in the air.A ghost in a three-piece suit.

The tension drained out of me all at once.I sank back against the shapeless hospital pillow and stared at the ceiling.“You called Mason, didn’t you?” I asked without bothering to look at Wyatt.

There was a note of grim satisfaction in his voice when he said, “I figured that if you were involved, Kent wouldn’t let you go easily.Your brother just saved me a mountain of paperwork.”

“Vanderhoff came out of the womb with a hard-on for my family,” I muttered, giving a weary tug on my cuffs.My wrist was sore, but I couldn’t stop myself.There was nothing I hated more than being restrained.

Wyatt chuckled. “You’re not wrong.”

His eyes lingered on my face a beat too long.He’d been doing that all night, and it was putting me on edge.He’d made his feelings crystal clear the night he rejected me.The horror on his face, the coldness in his eyes, the way he’d shoved me off him like I was something…disgusting.I’d never forget it. Sure, a small, cheap part of me felt vindicated that I’d changed enough for him to look at me with interest now.But the biggest part of me? It wanted revenge.I wanted him to feel the kind of hurt he’d put me through.

“You gonna let me out of here?” I asked, tugging on the cuff again.

Wyatt’s smile faded. “That depends,” he said solemnly.“Are you going to behave yourself while Vanderhoff's in the same building?”

It was a fair question. The bastard had railroaded Ben into murder charges.The last time Wyatt had seen me, I'd been half-crazed in my need for revenge.But I couldn't let him see how much I still wanted that, so I laughed.“What do you think I’m going to do?Go after him in front of you while he’s surrounded by hospital security?You think I’m looking for trouble?”

I gave him my most innocent look, but Wyatt wasn’t buying what I was selling.

“I think trouble’s got your name written on it in neon,” he said dryly, but he pulled out the handcuff keys anyway.He took my hand almost gently, turning it to access the lock.The cuff opened with a quiet click, but he didn’t let go right away.My fingers twitched in his grip.He held on for a second longer than he needed to, leaving a trail of warmth behind when he finally released me.

I grimaced and flexed my wrist, ignoring the way my pulse was racing.He was standing too close. Close enough for me to hear the hitch in his breath.Whatever was coming next, I knew it was something I didn’t want to talk about.

“Gage,” Wyatt said, his voice low and strained.“I know you don’t trust me. I guess you’ve got every reason?—”

I snorted. “You think?”

“—but I’m trying to help you,” he went on, ignoring my interruption.

That pissed me off. "Yeah? Well, you're a day late and a dollar short.You had your chance to help the night you arrested Ben."

“Ben killed someone, Gage.” Frustration edged into his tone.“What was I supposed to do?”

“You were supposed to fight for him!”Fight for me.

“My hands were tied, and you damn well know it.Besides, this isn’t about Ben.You’re just using him as an excuse to be pissed at me.”

I let out a harsh bark of laughter.“I don’t need an excuse.”

“Yeah, you never did.” He stepped back, finally putting some distance between us, breaking the coil of tension that had me wound tight as a spring.When he turned toward the door, I told myself I'd won.But it didn't feel like it. “I’ll check on the girl and make sure everything’s squared away with Mason,” he tossed over his shoulder.“Get some rest—and stay out of trouble.”

“Bite me,” I shot back, but he acted like he hadn’t even heard, robbing me of all satisfaction.

Just likethat, he was gone, leaving me alone in this sterile room with only my own resentment echoing off the walls.I let out a frustrated growl and slammed my head back against the pillow, but that only sent a shaft of pain blazing through my bruisedskull.My chest was tight, and not just because of the bustedribs.

Wyatt had a way of stripping me down, leaving me raw and exposed everytime.I could never get a handle on what was happening betweenus.I’d thought I put the past behindme.I knew who I was in Vegas, but less than a day back in Devil’s Garden and everything came rushingback.

And I hadn’t even faced my older brothersyet.

Chapter Four

GAGE

The fresh upholsteryscent of Mason’s car freshener was making my stomach churn.

“Your car stinks,” I grouched, slumping down in the buttery leather of the Porsche's bucket seat.

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