Page 57 of Brother's Keeper

Pain chipped away at my brain and made me weave like a drunkard as I wandered into the building. The honey wood tones of the floors and walls put me immediately at ease. I adjusted my suit coat and tousled my hair, trying to look less wrung out than I felt. Exhaustion had me in its clutches, and I wanted little more than to lie down somewhere warm and soft.

Passing through the entry hall, Istopped in the doorway of the bar area and spotted the thing I wanted most of all. Nash stood in the middle of the room, pushing a mop across the floor. His copper hair glowed in the downlights, and his blue plaid shirt fit snugly across his shoulders.

Relieved as I was that he hadn’t been at Holland’s party, I had missed him. That feeling seemed to crop up more and more lately. It was a heartsick sort of sadness that made me drive my near-catatonic ass across town in the middle of the night so I didn’t have to be alone.

I watched him for several seconds, amused by his inattention until I noticed the wireless headphones plugging his ears. Grinning, I crept into the room, careful to stay behind him as I stealthily approached. When I reached him at last, I slid my hands around his waist and into his jeans’ pockets, prompting a bucking jump.

The mop fell away to clatter against the floor as Nash spun around and yanked his earbuds out. His brown eyes went soft when they focused on me.

“Christ, you scared me.” He shook his head.

Laughing made my head pound harder, and I grimaced. Nash bent to retrieve the mop and, after dropping it into the rolling bucket, he looked me over.

“I haven’t heard from you all week, and now you show up dressed like this?” He gestured to my suit, and I said silent thanks for the black shirt hiding a mess of bloodstains. “What’s the occasion?”

The subtle dig did not elude me. The last time I’d been here, I’d left on less-than-ideal terms. I masked my hurt feelings with anger and took out my frustration on us both. He’d texted, but I hadn’t bothered to respond.There weren’t many ways to confess that an eavesdropped conversation had taken me out at the knees, and that I’d been avoiding anything that reminded me of it for days. Better to pretend it never happened or do what I could to make up for it.

“It’s a gift.” I stepped into him again. “For you.”

To my relief, he let me press my body against his. I looped my arms around his middle, needing the support to hold myself upright.

“Is it a gift I get to unwrap?” he asked, prompting another subdued chuckle from me.

“Go for it. Try not to rip the paper, though. It’s a rental.” Though I was less certain of getting my deposit back after all that had happened tonight.

Nash pressed one hand into the small of my back and used the other to sweep the hair away from my brow. “Where were you?” he asked. “Before this?”

I peered at him from under heavy eyelids. “Why do you ask?”

“Because your nose is red either from crying or a hell of a nosebleed, and you look like you’re sleepwalking.” He reached toward my upper lip, rubbed raw from too much dabbing and wiping.

“Shut it, Sherlock.” I swatted him away and staggered back. “I look sexy as hell.”

The distance gave him a chance to survey me with more scrutiny than before. “Are you sure you’re up for… unwrapping?” His bushy brows knit together. “Maybe a nightcap and a tuck into bed instead?”

I crossed my arms. “I didn’t get all dressed up to go to bed.” Tempting as that was.

“And I don’t believe you got all dressed up just to come see me,” he replied. “Did the Capitol have an event? I didn’t hear anything.”

And hewouldn’thear anything about it from me. I didn’t ask Grimm if he knew in advance about the Everett twins’ attack on the party because the answer was obvious. For whatever reason, he endorsed the destruction. He might have even hoped for a few casualties, which made me more suspicious than ever about his request that I bring Nash. All the more reason to keep my professional and private lives separate.

I nodded toward the cell phone jutting out of Nash’s hip pocket. “What were you listening to?”

The blatant redirection didn’t fool him, but he sighed and produced his phone anyway.

When he showed me the Now Playing screen, I snorted. “Jazz? Seriously?”

“It’s relaxing.” He shrugged. “Sensual.”

A teasing grin pulled at my lips. “Sensual, you say? Like a Kenny G. saxophone solo?”

He huffed. “That’s not—”

“Gimme.” I gestured to the earbuds tucked in his palm.

He tipped his head, reluctant, then passed them to me.

I slid them in and listened to the song already playing. It had a slow beat and a piano-led melody. Closing my eyes was a risky game with sleep dogging my every move, but the mellow notes put me at ease. After a lingering moment, I peeked out to see Nash watching.

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