Page 79 of You Don’t Kiss Your Brother's Best Friends

It happened so quickly there wasn’t even time to gasp. Roman pulled the man bodily out of his chair, lifted him off his feet, and slammed him into the wall. He didn’t even have time to cry out. The sound of his head cracking against the elaborate wood paneling told us that something had broken… and it probably wasn’t the wall.

Roman held the man there for a long moment, pinned by his shoulders, a foot off the ground. His head was lolled downward, chin against his neck. His eyes, which had shown momentary fear and surprise, were thankfully closed.

“Yes,” Roman sighed heavily, dropping the man into a crumpled heap. “You probably should’ve checked.”

Nobody moved a centimeter. Even Dorothea stopped shaking.

“My own men should’ve checked too, but not on Foley,” said Roman. “They should’ve checked my room. They’ve should’ve found THIS.”

With that, he reached behind him and slammed something violently onto the table. It was a large beige brick, wrapped in both directions with silver duct tape. A series of wires dangled from it, ending in stripped copper edges.

Immediately I knew what it was, but only because I’d watched so many movies.

“YOU.”

I nearly choked when I realized Roman’s eyes had fallen on me. Or rather, on us.

“You ladies can go now,” he said, nodding toward the door.

The guards shifted to make way for us. I took Dorothea’s hand and tugged, but her feet were frozen to the floor. Like a mongoose captivated by a cobra’s gaze, she was completely paralyzed.

“I’m sorry you had to see this, by the way,” Roman went on. He jerked his chin at the broken form of the man against the wall. “Family business can sometimes be ugly.”

With that, Roman sat back down in his seat. He shoved the brick of C-4 explosive roughly aside, and began eating his meal. I pulled Dorothea so hard she lost her balance. She blinked a few times, then started shuffling her feet.

“No one else in this room goesanywhere,” Roman Wynter grunted, “until somebody explains what the fuck is going on.”

~ 47 ~

BISHOP

Getting out of the manor after the shit hit the fan was something we’d rehearsed a dozen times. Considering the circumstances, it should’ve been hard. It should’ve taken stealth, or violence, or luck — maybe even a bit of all three.

Instead, I walked right through the door like I owned the place.

The smell of violets and lavender wafted sweetly on a gentle wind, betraying the heat and testosterone that permeated the mansion. It was a little eerie, not seeing anyone outside. Just yesterday Blight had men positioned inside and out, and the place was locked down tighter than a crab’s ass. Now, there wasn’t a single soul. Nothing stood between me and what I needed to do.

I skirted the curve of the driveway and slipped down the hill, quickly eliminating the mansion’s line of sight. The locker was something we’d buried two weeks ago. I hadn’t even gone a hundred yards and there it was, secreted beneath a natural-looking pile of cedar and cypress.

Clearing the deadfall away, I popped the locker open and began slinging weapons over my shoulder. The SPAS-15’s were conspicuous, but effective. If it came down to rifles, and I hoped to hell it wouldn’t, we’d be outnumbered but not outgunned. The Benelli Super 90 was for close quarters. But the grenades…

The grenades were plan C. A hopefully unneeded contingency, for when all other avenues of escape had been exhausted. And right now, escape was all I could think about. Getting Jocelyn out of danger came before everything else, our original plans included.

Jocelyn.

Just thinking about her put a lump in my throat. Of all possible scenarios we’d considered while rehearsing our mission, the idea of our childhood friend interjecting herself into our lives in the last few hours before all hell broke loose was the last thing I could’ve possibly imagined. And yet, we were just as responsible as she was. Maybe even more so.

If it had been anyone else, it would’ve been over that first night. But this was Jocelyn we were talking about here. Jason’s sister. She’d gone from an annoying little tease to a full-grown, beautiful, intelligent woman. We lusted after her together, Kayden and I, and now we actually had her. Shit, we had her in ways that went beyond the scope of our wildest dreams.

Protecting her was paramount. But loving her… that was something entirely different. And I did love her, I realized. Every laugh, every smile, every roll of those beautiful, womanly hips. I’d grown up building myself a vision of the perfect woman in my mind’s eye, without even realizing that woman was Jocelyn. Nothing could ever compare to her, because nothing elsewasher. I could let myself love her, I knew that now. Or maybewecould love her… the way we always had.

No matter what happened next, we had to keep her safe. All of a sudden, she was everything.

My mind raced as I loaded the remainder of our ordinance into the sling bag and zipped it up. Whatever was going on in the dining room right now could make or break us.Roman was eccentric and unpredictable — a total loose cannon. If he found what we’d planted, everything would move rapidly. Even now, there might already be blood.

Isn’t blood what you wanted, though?

It was, of course. We all knew there was no way of taking down Blight that didn’t involve some measure of danger, or violence. At the moment though, the very idea of unchecked violence put a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach.

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