Page 88 of Brother's Keeper

I woke in thewee hours of morning, tucked between Nash’s legs and arms. The room was pitch black, but my eyes adjusted quickly as I strained to look at my bedmate. The brawny bartender was fully dressed and fully asleep, his expression as peaceful as I wished I could be. After carefully extricating myself from his embrace, I paused, laying my head on my pillow while I studied his face.

I used to think it was creepy to watch someone else sleep. Stalker Behavior 101. But I hardly needed to stalk a man I’d already caught—accidentally, inexplicably. He was also a man I couldn’t keep. I meant it when I said I would ruin him. The process had already begun. It started with his business and reputation and ended with Grimm deciding to rob me of the last good thing in my life.

Donovan’s death may have come at Jax’s hands, but his blood was on Grimm’s. I didn’tdelude myself into thinking our gang leader couldn’t have prevented everything that happened last night. He should have protected Donovan for his own sake because my brother had been the shield between Grimm and me. With that gone, nothing remained to hold me back.

Sliding out from under the sheets, I stood.

I could hardly confront Grimm before dawn, not knowing where to find him when he wasn’t at the Capitol, but I had access to the next best thing.

I padded out of Nash’s bedroom and down the stairs, moving as noiselessly as I could. The bar was closed, but I wasn’t the only guest invited to tonight’s sleepover. Maggie was here somewhere, and Ripley, too, hopefully in a better state than I’d seen him last.

It was pervasively dark and quiet, the perks and negatives of being so far from the city. I expected to find the underground cellar equally so, and I took a moment to dig into the utility closet and find a flashlight. Clicking on the wide, weak beam, I ventured out the back door and down the steps onto the concrete pad outside.

The cellar hatch sat a few feet away, its metal handles chained and padlocked. I made quick work of mentally picking the lock, then opened one of the wooden doors and descended the steps.

It was as dank and dusty as ever, and the quiet was punctuated by the sounds of soft snoring.

I aimed the flashlight at the bed across the packed dirt floor. Maximus lay on the stripped mattress, flat on his back like a corpse in a coffin.

Creeping close, I stopped a few feet from the iron bed frame and trained the beam of light on the olderman’s face. I cleared my throat in the hopes of waking him gently. Another snore answered my effort, so I put my fingers to my lips and blew out a shrill whistle.

Maximus sat bolt upright as I turned the flashlight under my chin like a child about to tell a ghost story. When the old man whirled round to face me, rattling the chain attached to his ankle, I bared my teeth in a smile.

“Boo.”

“Fitch.” My name burst out of him on a sharp breath. He might have been relieved, but that lasted only moments before he asked, “How long can I expect this imprisonment to go on? I’ve missed Holland’s birthday, her engagement…”

“Preston’s an ass,” I grumbled. “And it’s downright medieval to use your daughter to secure a political alliance.” The thought made my stomach churn, and my lips twisted in a sneer. “But you’ll do anything for your damn politics, won’t you? Sacrifice anyone.”

Maximus stared at me coolly, flexing his empathic magic to keep his true feelings secret from me. “You understand necessary sacrifice,” he said slowly. “Better than most.”

I understood all kinds of sacrifice. Most recently, the accidental, devastating, and decidedlyunnecessary kind.

Clicking the flashlight off, I dropped it in the pocket of my borrowed pajama pants. I rubbed my palms across my eyes—dry for now but throbbing.

“My brother’s dead.” The words tasted bitter on my tongue. “Your daughter marched him into a lion’s den. She let him die.”

Maximus sat with his legs dangling off the side of thebed while I rambled on.

“I wanted to blame her, but it’s always been me, you know? Donnie’s always been my responsibility. My dad even told me so.” I could have done without the resurgence of that particular memory. Though, my father said those things all the time.“Look out for Donnie. Can you watch Donnie? Make room for Donnie. He looks up to you.”

I scrubbed my face again, trying to shoo away the last remnants of sleep and the sound of my father’s voice, resonating.

“Now Holland’s afraid I’ll kill you,” I muttered into my palms.

It would have been fair to trade a life for a life and leave her as alone in the world as I now was. But I brought her father here in the first place to spare her that pain.

With a sniffed breath, I peeled my fingers away and glared at the older man. “Everyone thinks I enjoy this shit, but I really hate it.”

Not a flicker of genuine emotion crossed Maximus’s face. He was as guarded as I wished I could be, expending all his energy on a façade, wishing perhaps to die bravely.

“I’m sorry to hear about Donovan,” he said at length.

I snorted. “I’m sure you are.”

The rattling thwap of the cellar door flinging open whipped my head around. I turned to see Nash descending the steps two at a time, breathless and harried as he hit the ground on bare feet.

“Oh.” The word burst out of him on a panted breath. He straightened, smoothing the fronts of his tank topand sweats in an attempt to appear nonchalant. “Everything okay down here?”

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