Page 22 of His Lovebug

I managed to pull my Hummer into the driveway before my phone started buzzing. Sighing, I picked it up from the middle console and stared down at the unknown number. Usually, I ignored calls from people I didn’t know, but this time I had the inkling to answer it.

“Yeah?”

“Colt.” The familiar hoarse timbre of Topher, my father’s best friend, drawled through the line, and I held in the urge to sigh. I pressed my fingers against my forehead and massaged it, aware of the trouble already coming.

“Topher.”

“Where’s your brother?” Of course that would be his first question. I hadn’t spoken to Topher since my father’s funeral, but he knew what I did for a living, and I was very aware of the kind of people he worked with. We were more than happy to stay away from each other.

“Hello to you, too.” I added a teasing tone to my words, even though anger hummed in my chest at both Jackson and Topher.

“Where is Jackson?” He didn’t do small talk, and I’d once respected that.

I stared at the front door of my home and the window that looked into the living room. The curtains were closed, but lights burned. Shadows danced across the window, signaling someone was there. “I don’t know. Why do you think I’d have any idea where he is?”

Topher growled in irritation. “Don’t play dumb with me, boy. I know he’s with you. I have my own spies.”

“Why are you looking for him?” I asked, massaging my forehead harder to stave off the impending ache that had begun there. Jackson would only bring trouble, and this was the beginning.

“You know why. He fucked my daughter, and now her husband can get a payout from a divorce.” The sound of something smashing in the background—glass most likely—echoed in my ear. “Does he get any of my money, Colt?”

I was going tokillJackson with my bare fucking hands. Topher wouldn’t have to worry about my brother after I was done with him. I grabbed the steering wheel and squeezed the leather tightly. “I have no clue what you’re talking about. Sorry to hear about your daughter.”

He laughed, his anger palpable. “You’re protecting him after what he did to you? I know he fucked your ex-wife. I knoweverything about what Jackson has done over the last few years. I can tell you when he took a shit.”

I exhaled and clenched my hand around the steering wheel again, wishing it was Jackson’s neck. “That’s very stalkerish of you, Topher. Have fun with that.”

“If you don’t send him to me, I will come and get him.” The fury in his voice rose, and the hair on my arms stood up, since I was aware of the danger Topher could bring with him. He wasn’t an innocent man. Far from it.

I clenched my teeth. Fuck, how much risk would this be for Quin? Jackson was a fucking dickhead for bringing this trouble to my doorstep. “Topher, I say this with respect for you being my father’s old friend, but if you come near my house, I will gut you.”

“You have forty-eight hours to turn him over, then I’ll come for him. I’lldealwith anyone who gets in my way.”

The call ended, leaving silence ringing in my ear. I pulled the phone away to stare at the black screen, terror shredding its way through me to join the rage that bubbled in the pit of my stomach.

I shoved open my door and slammed it closed again before storming toward the house. I stalked inside and headed straight to the living room, where I found Jackson lazing on the couch with Royal standing off to the side, an unimpressed expression on his face as he stared down at Jackson.

“Come on, big boy. Don’t be such a sourpuss.” Jackson laughed as he pointed at Royal. “You like dicks and asses, too, don’t you? You don’t have to lie.”

Royal smirked despite his clear irritation and crossed his arms. “Maybe, and if you belonged to me, I’d bend you over my knee and spank your ass red. Someone should.”

“You wish you could touch my ass, mountain man.” Jackson peered off to the side, and that was the moment his gaze settledon me. He sat up straighter and rested an arm along the back of the couch. “Hey, big bro. Finally home, huh? Don’t worry, I’ve been keeping yourwifeentertained.”

I gritted my teeth and exhaled loudly through my nose. Stepping into the living room, I stopped behind the couch and rolled my shoulders. “Enough with your crap, Jack. I’m this close to pounding your face in.” Especially because the familiar scent of Quin’s favorite perfume tickled my nose, and it came straight from Jackson. I wasn’t stupid enough to believe Quin would venture into that territory, but that didn’t mean the thrumming anger didn’t poison my veins and leak into my lungs. I was a man on the verge of doing something very stupid.

Jackson winked at me. “Your wife sure issweet. I’d really like a taste.”

The invisible tether that kept me sane snapped and so did my temper. I jumped over the back of the couch and landed on Jackson. My vision became a gray haze, and he was the focus of all my fury. I raised my fist and slammed it into his nose. His head cracked backward, and I kept pounding my knuckles into his face, uncaring about the blood that splattered the couch.

“Fuck! Colt! Boss!”

I ignored Royal’s yell and focused on hammering my brother with one punch after another, all the fury fueling my attack. Blood screamed in my ears and the ache in my hand intensified.

I barely noticed the fast, hard footsteps across the wooden floor until I heard another yell, this one from Quin.

“My God! Matt! Get off him. Stop!”

My body’s reaction to Quin’s order was instantaneous. I shoved Jack against the couch one more time before I pushed to my feet and stared down at the mess I’d made of my brother. His entire face was bloodied, his bottom lip split, and his eyes were already swelling.

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