Page 5 of Barrett

I didn’t need to ask who the sender was. It was Vail or Hartley, Jordan’s partners. No one else ever texted me on that line, unless it was something Jordan needed. Even then it was mostly in person.

An ache formed in my chest, one that had no business being there.

Reghan was Jordan’s bodyguard. He and his twin brother, Raiden, were the ones who watched Jordan’s back, in addition to others. That meant every time I had to be face-to-face with Jordan, there was a fifty-percent chance Reghan would be there.

For all his anger and getting in my face, I couldn’t resist the pull to him. Or the draw to be a complete smart-ass in his presence. He was the one man who got under my skin and stayed there, no matter how many times I tried to remove him.

But I couldn’t have him. I couldn’t have a life on that side of the law. Sure, the money was there, but where my brother was concerned, I wanted to do right by him and earn a living the legal way. I put the money I got from Jordan into a savings account. If anything ever happened to me in the line of duty or doing a side gig for Jordan, I had to know Marshall was taken care of, even if the money was earned the illegal way.

2

REGHAN

There was a cake with candles on top. I wasn’t about to count them. All I knew was there wasn’t thirty-seven of them, which was how old my brother and I were today. Vail made the cake for us. My twin brother and I agreed on most things, including what kind of cake we wanted. Chocolate with sweet vanilla icing. Of course, Vail took that and ran with it. What we got could have been a wedding cake or one more fit for someone with a lot of money with how beautiful it was.

It was a three-layer sheet cake. The white icing was smoothed to the point that there wasn’t a single wrinkle. Silver piping adorned the edges. And because Hartley had something to do with the cake, little edible guns decorated the entire perimeter of the bottom on top of the piping. Hartley said it was because we lived a life of crime, and since the party was in Jordan’s building, where my brother and I lived too, it had to be mafia themed.

The best part was the little German shepherd mix Vail had crafted and put on top next to Happy Birthday spelled out in paw prints. Tahoe was the dog in charge around here now that Jordan had bought puppies for Hartley, Vail, and Ava. I thought it was because my brother and I loved on all the dogs. Also, because Jordan and his partners didn’t know much about our lives outside of here, they couldn’t make it overly personal in design. That was our fault. My brother and I didn’t share much about ourselves.

Hartley was our resident fashion designer, and a damn good one at that. He had a Rottweiler puppy named Duchess that followed him around like he was the only person on the planet. It was cute. Duchess went with him to work and tried to crawl into bed with them at night, which Jordan wouldn’t allow.

Then there was Vail. He was a chef and made the best food I’d ever eaten. He worked part-time at Untouchable, a club on the other side of the city. He wasn’t there often any longer. He’d found he loved to cook for everyone in the building instead. And Jordan enjoyed knowing Vail was safe here. In addition to Tahoe, who Vail brought with him when he moved in with Jordan and Hartley, Vail had a German shepherd puppy named Aspen, who stayed with Vail during the day since that was also where Tahoe was lately. At night, the two dogs curled up together in a bed on the floor in the bedroom.

Ava, who Vail was granted guardianship of, chose a Belgian Malinois puppy she named Morgan. The puppy was high-energy, and she was with her once Ava was home from school every weekday. They ran together, visited the park, and did whatever Ava wanted. Julia, Ava’s guard, was always with Ava during the day. If Ava left the building at night, another guard was assigned to her. Being part of Jordan’s family meant protection was needed. Not just for her, but for Vail and Hartley too.

There was a trainer for all the dogs and another person who walked them regularly to make sure they got the exercise they needed. They were working breeds and needed to stay active.

My brother and I were here for protection. Although we worked for the boss himself, we worked in shifts most of the time, so Jordan was always covered. Even in his home, on the top floor of the building he owned, one of us was there unless he told us we could go.

In order for someone to get to the floor the home was on; they’d have to go through a hell of a lot of men with a hell of a lot of firepower.

The sound of singing floated to me, pulling me from my thoughts. Raiden side-eyed me to ensure I was paying attention. My brother and I looked alike with our dark hair and eyes. The difference was Raiden had a scar through his right eyebrow. That was how most people told us apart.

“Make a wish,” Hartley said with a smile when they finished singing.

Raiden and I leaned over and blew out the candles in unison.

There wasn’t a lot I wanted to wish for. My parents were healthy, and so were my brother and me. We had more than we could ever need. I worried about Raiden’s safety just as I was certain he did mine, but that was why we trained often. The better we were at our jobs, the more likely we would see our beds at the end of every shift.

My wish, as cheesy as it sounded, was for love. Being around Jordan, Hartley, and Vail and watching the love they shared, I wanted that. I knew Raiden did too. At least my brother’s current objects of his affection weren’t as bad as mine. Although, neither of us had done a damn thing about it, except long for them in silence.

Our profession didn’t lend itself to relationships. Not with the hours we worked and how we were on call for Jordan.

While my brother had a doctor and the not-biological son of Jordan’s dead rival in his sights, I desired a cop—a detective, to be precise.

Barrett North was everything I wanted but shouldn’t. He worked for the enemy. Most wouldn’t see cops that way, and not all police in East Dremest were. But there were plenty who would take any chance they had to go after Jordan. There were some cops who Jordan had in his pocket because he paid them for information. He also had enough dirt on them should they ever turn on him, they’d be in for a world of hate. They’d wind up in prison right beside him.

Barrett fell somewhere in the middle. He didn’t love his job—that much was obvious every time I saw him—but he enjoyed helping. He was the guy you wanted rushing to your side when there was an emergency.

He wasn’t innocent though. He’d done things for Jordan that could put him behind bars too. Even the thought of that had me grinding my teeth.

Raiden elbowed me in the side and lifted an eyebrow. I shook my head in reply. It wasn’t the time or place to talk about my latest source of irritation. Or recurrent source since it had to do with Barrett.

He knew how to push every one of my buttons until I wanted to fucking choke the life out of him. In those moments when I did get to put my hand on his throat or my fist in his shirt, I saw desire swim in his eyes. That desire called to the very base need of mine to bury myself inside him.

“These are for you,” Jordan said, a gift in each hand, both wrapped in blue paper with balloons printed on it and white bows on top.

“Thank you, sir,” I said.

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