Page 73 of Restrained

Her youngest brother, Asher, is sitting at the table with cereal in front of him, smiling smugly at me.

“Morning.” I try to be civil even though I recognize this little shit.

He’s me. Ten years ago.

All guys in their twenties are shitheads.

And it doesn’t matter that he grew up with wealth and privilege. It doesn’t matter that I didn’t. We’ve both experiencepain and abandonment in some form or another and didn’t know how to deal with it.

I understand him.

He doesn’t say anything as I make my way to the coffee, not needing him to say anything. Not needing his acceptance.

“You in love with my sister?”

The question does, however, catch me off guard. Christ, I didn’t even get a chance to pour a cup of coffee. I turn around to face him. “I haven’t known her long.”

He rolls his eyes at me as if that’s the stupidest thing I could have said. “That’s not what I asked.”

“That’s something I should probably discuss with her first.”

Again, his eyes roll. He’s a tough kid. I recognize the suffering in his eyes. I also know that underneath that is fear. Fear of everything.

He stands and walks to the sink, rinsing his bowl and then turning to look at me. “Don’t hurt her.”

“I won’t.”

He smiles mockingly, staring deliberately at the black eye his sister gave me. “Good because she’s tough, but if you do, between Linc and me, they won’t even be able to identify your body.”

I can respect that. “Noted.”

He nods his head and walks out of the kitchen, I follow, watching him pick up a bag next to the sofa and slinging it over his shoulder. “Tell Lola thanks for letting me stay here last night. I needed to hang out with Baz.”

“She’s upstairs. You should tell her yourself.”

He waves me off. “Nah. I hate good-byes. I gotta go.”

I follow him to the front door. “What about Baz? Did you tell him?”

He turns around to face me, his chest puffed out. “I love that kid, and you don’t know me, so you need to know that.”

“I already did. You should tell him goodbye.”

“I’ll never say goodbye to him.” He pauses. “I’ll be back. Don’t forget what I said.”

“Homicide. Got it.”

He laughs, turning back around.

“I do, you know?”

He looks at me over his shoulder, a grin on his face knowing I'm talking about loving Lola. “I know. I’m glad.” His hand finds the handle. “She’s special. She’s strong for all of us but weak when it comes to herself. You look out for her, and I like it.”

Not that I needed it, but it appears I have the kid’s approval.

No other words need to be said as he leaves. I return to the kitchen, barely getting two cups of coffee brewed before feeling familiar hands slide around my waist.

“Good morning.”

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