Page 44 of Brother's Keeper

Nash snuffled into his coffee as he walked over to the wall shelves to straighten a few slanted books.

Pippa propped a fist on her hip. She’d ditched her waitressing apron to expose an argyle sweater and leggings. “I don’t think magic can fix what’s wrong with you, Fitch,” she said. “That would take a miracle.”

I flashed a tart smile. “You’re always so honest, Pippa. It’s refreshing.”

She turned toward Nash. “I locked up downstairs, Nick. Since those customers are definitely not coming back.” She cast a final look of blame my way before crossing the room to come alongside her brother. Taking hold of his elbow, she whispered something I couldn’t hear.

Nash turned toward her, perplexed in profile. Hegave no response other than to tell me, “Hang tight, Fitch. I’ll be right back.”

The siblings left the room, heading down the hallway and out of earshot. Suspicious.

Left to my own devices, I stood, holding the towel around my neck with one hand and pressing the ice bag to my cheek with the other. The towel was as soaked as I was, and the icepack gave me a chill, so it seemed dry clothes were in order. I wandered down the same hall Nash and Pippa had used, aiming for Nash’s bedroom and, ultimately, his closet.

Pippa’s room came first, though, with the door slightly ajar and a conversation in progress beyond it.

“What are you getting at?” Nash’s voice, gruff and slightly raised, stopped me in my tracks. “I know you want to say something,” he continued, “so say it.”

I leaned against the wall beside the doorframe, eavesdropping for the second time in as many hours.

Pippa sighed loudly. “This may not be the best time to ask, but if the Hex isn’t allowed here anymore, why is Fitch still coming around?”

“Fitch is the reason the Hex isn’t allowed here anymore,” Nash replied.

“I remember,” Pippa said. “I was there. And any reason would have been good enough for me. They’re a bunch of assholes. But they’re a bunch of assholeshe’spart of. Still representing, at least.”

The Hex mark continued to be a sticking point. I was about ready to chop my damn hand off myself and deliver it to Jax in a wrapped box. Whatever I was getting from the gang these days wasn’t worth the hassle.

“You’re right, Pip,” Nash replied. “This isn’t the best time.”

Footsteps approached from inside, and I lurched away from the door, ready to make quick progress to Nash’s room.

Lighter feet chased after Nash’s heavy thuds. Both of them now stood on the other side of the cracked door.

“Think about it, Nick,” Pippa said. “As it stands, you’ve got all the risk and none of the reward. Especially if he’s gonna be dropping in with God knows who on his tail, bringing trouble from all over town.”

My face twisted into a deeper scowl, prompting pain. Not just the physical kind.

“He’s a public menace,” Pippa continued. “Don’t make him our private one.”

I drew a breath, ready to defend myself in a conversation that had intentionally excluded me. Instead, protest went stale inside my brain.

Nash gave me the escape potion. He wanted me to come here, and I would never jeopardize him by bringing my enemies in tow. If Pippa had heard what I’d just told Nash—that I wanted him to stay here because it was safe—she would understand. I wouldn’t risk him like that.

“It’smybar,” Nash replied after a pause. “I decide who’s allowed in it.”

“You sure do.” The edge of warning in Pippa’s voice should have prepared me for what she said next, but I found myself wholly stunned. “But I live here, too,” she said. “And I don’t want a fuckboy with a pretty face to cloud your judgment. At this rate, he’ll be the death ofyour business. Maybe the death of you.”

New moisture lined my eyes as I recalled words spoken that were more cutting than Pippa’s had been, but they carried the same sentiment.

“Don’t let yourself get too invested in that one,”Grimm had told Nash, not too long ago.“He’ll let anyone fuck him.”

I had been, since fourteen, somewhat of a community property. Marionette was Grimm’s pet project, an experiment he was still conducting over a decade later. The gang leader’s efforts had opened the door for others to try their hand at molding me into what I was now. Isha, for one, had relished the opportunity to teach a young man how to be an exceptional lover. Sexual prowess came with practice, so I got plenty.

Be it with whores at the Blooming Orchid or barflies at the Bitters’ End, I rarely turned anyone down. The few times I’d tried, I learned very quickly it wasn’t my place to say no.

But it was different with Nash. He was kind and took his time, rather than simply taking me for all I was worth before making a quick getaway. He stayed, and it struck me suddenly that few things frightened me more than the thought of him leaving.

I ran half-blind into the adjacent bedroom and pushed the door closed behind me. Hopefully, that would slow Nash down in finding me and give me time to pull myself together.

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