I snarl, grabbing the trays of food from his outstretched hands. “Get the fuck out.”
His laughter follows him down the porch stairs, and that causes me even worse indigestion.
After a quick breakfast, I bring Briar into the living room and have her sit at my side on the couch. Snagging the blanket off the back of the sofa, I wrap it around her and stretch my arm over the back of her seat.
She scoots closer, placing her face on my chest. “I’m not going to let you hurt Calder. Or Keir, for that matter. So, maladaptive daydream about murdering them all you’d like, but if you actually try to hurt them, I will kill you.”
My head tilts.
God help me…
I smile.
I’ve always been a bit of a cliché alpha. I don’t enjoy being challenged, but coming from Briar, I can apparently overlook a lot of attitude.
It also pleases me greatly to see she’s growing braver and no longer seems to be afraid of me.
This is either a great sign or it will end up being inconvenient. I suppose time will tell.
There’s every possibility that I should be offended that she thinks so little of me. Keir and Calder are the closest things I have to best friends. Sure, I consider a few of the guys on the teams to be colleagues, bordering on friends, but Keir lives with me. I allow Calder over whenever he’d like.
My home is my sanctuary.
That should say everything.
Occasionally, I might visualize ways to make them suffer, but I rarely follow through.
“Understood,” I finally say to put the matter to rest.
“And you what? Sent a team to Boston?” she asks, tilting her face up to meet my eyes.
Pulling my arm off the back of the couch, I wrap it around her side and palm her ass. “I sent a team I trust to begin reconnaissance on your brother.”
“Why now?”
“Why not now?” I counter and grimace. Exhaling heavily, I run my hand over her hip. “The pregnant woman whose house we’re currently occupying has some very loose tie to your family.” I frown. “Would you prefer I refer to Titus as Bianca’s family?”
Briar snorts, shaking her head. “I appreciate the sentiment, but I think that would get confusing. Oh my god. Tell me she’s not pregnant with my brother’s baby…”
“No.” I chuckle. “She’s not. However, her ex-boyfriend did some work for one of your family’s underlings. Sammy Stannisis a bookie that Chelsea’s ex got tangled up with through his brother. Apparently, the older brother tried to pay off the younger brother’s debts before his death by way of creating several computer software programs that could be used to track risk versus win statistics and more.”
“Did they kill him? Oh God, poor Chelsea.”
“They did not. He died of health complications, but Calder has reason to believe that he copied the data he had access to just before he passed away.” I shrug. “We believe Sammy Stannis is aware of the double cross. He’s trying to get the files back, but we’re unsure if he has kept that information quiet in hopes of having it fly under the radar. Or he could have informed the chain of command, which currently ends with your brother.”
Briar’s breathing hitches. “Titus is like my father. He won’t get his hands dirty personally. He’ll send a hit squad.”
“I agree.” I squeeze her hip in hopes of letting her know I value her opinion. I may have a general idea of how the mob works, but she’s lived it, and that information is invaluable. “Arden, Lincoln, and Kase are a more than capable team on their own. They’ve also got Sky. That German shepherd is combat trained and vetted for personal protection. But we’re here to add an additional safety net.”
“We’re here in case my brother sends a kill squad to murder that poor pregnant woman?” Briar asks, pushing herself up with a hand on my abs.
I bring my free hand to caress her cheek. “I have no plans to allow that to happen, and truly, I believe it’s unlikely that she’s even on Titus’s radar. There is a slim possibility that Sammy might be able to follow her trail here, but that would indicate he’s acting without clueing in the higher-ups and thus won’t have much backup.”
Briar studies my face and finally nods. “You know, I think you actually do care about other people. You’re just good at hiding it.”
Yeah, that’s me—a regular bleeding heart.
In reality, we needed an excuse to leave Vermont, so I weighed the pros and cons and decided it wouldn’t hurt, but I don’t correct her. I like the idea of her thinking I’m better than I truly am.