Page 98 of Jolt's Vengeance

"God, you forgot how we joked around, didn't ye?" Davina gasps between fits of giggles, rubbing her reddened cheek.

Aggie freezes, her anger evaporating like mist in the sun.

She shakes her head, covering her face with both hands.

For a heart-stopping moment, I think she might be crying.

But then I hear it—a muffled snort, followed by full-blown laughter.

Jesus fucking Christ.

These two are absolutely insane.

I watch, dumbfounded, as Aggie's shoulders shake.

She drops her hands, revealing eyes bright with tears of laughter instead of rage. "Ye bloody idiot," she wheezes, playfully shoving her sister's shoulder. "I coulda killed ye!"

"Nah." Davina grins. "Ye love me too much. Besides, someone's gotta keep ye on yer toes."

I run a hand through my hair, trying to process the emotional whiplash of the last few minutes.

These Scottish women are a whole different breed of crazy.

But watching Aggie now, her face relaxed and open in a way I rarely see, I can't help but feel a rush of affection.

"You two are going to give me a damn heart attack," I mutter, shaking my head.

Davina's gaze shifts to me, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Maybe so, but I’m sure yer gonna get used to it. Gotta know, though, is yer family not coming for Christmas?"

I shake my head, feeling a pang of loneliness I hadn't expected. "Nah, my brother's in Portland. Haven't seen him in a while."

The words taste bitter on my tongue.

Victor and I used to be close, but life has a way of pulling people apart.

I push down the ache, plastering on my usual carefree grin.

Davina presses, arching an eyebrow. "Ye sure about that?"

"Course I'm sure," I reply, confusion creeping in. What's she playing at? "Pretty hard to miss a six-foot-four biker showing up on your doorstep."

Just as I'm about to ask what the hell she's on about, a familiar voice cuts through the room like a lightning bolt.

"Kid helped me pull a damn good surprise, huh?"

My heart stops. That voice. It can't be. I whirl around, hardly daring to believe it.

There he is, larger than life, my big brother Victor—Vader to the Deathstalkers MC—standing in the doorway with that trademark smirk of his.

My mind short-circuits, unable to process the sight.

"This can't fuckin' be real," I breathe, closing the distance between us in three long strides.

I pull him into a bear hug.

Victor's deep chuckle rumbles through his chest. "It's real, little brother. Flesh and blood, right here."

I step back, drinking in the sight of him.

---