Page 18 of Garrison's Creed

She had nothing to say. Nothing except for… she narrowed her eyes. “I hate you, Cash.”

“You hate me? Jesus fucking Christ. If that’s not the best line you’ve had all night, I don’t know what is. The CIA feed you those beauties?”

Roman cleared his throat. “CIA? What’s the Agency got to do with this?”

They ignored him. “You think you can keep your mouth shut about anything? Mister Let’s-sit-and-talk-under-the-moon?”

“At least I’m solid to those I care about.”

They were nose to nose. Well, as close as they could be with him towering over her. She breathed hard through sealed teeth, angrier than she had ever been, and she didn’t know why. She shoved him with her good elbow, attempting to push past him. He grasped her bicep, pulled her close.

Inches. She was inches from his face, and for some reason, all she could think about was how he smelled like soap. Soap and Jack Daniel’s.

“I mourned you too, Cash.” Her voice broke. “Don’t you know that?”

Eyes locked, they stared. She felt bleeding pain down to her soul.

And suddenly, it wasn’t just them. She came back to reality and the voices in the background. Roman was saying something. She drew her eyes away from Cash, dimly aware of how close, how heated she and Cash were. Cash seemed to notice also, releasing his grip on her arm. But they stayed in place, close enough she could still smell him.

By the look on his face, Roman must have repeated himself. “What is going on between you two? You’ve been at each other’s throats for hours. Christ.”

With all the emotion required to playGrand Theft Auto, Cash turned from her to Roman. “Sorry, man. I was doing your sister on the side. Beat my ass later. I’m going to bed.”

He ambled out of the kitchen, throwing a finger up in a fuck-you goodbye. Roman, the brother she’d once known so well, stared at her. Unreadable.

He opened his mouth, but it just stayed open. Nothing came out.

“I should have told you.”

“I don’t really know what to say.” He shook his head. “Cash? How did I not know about… you two?”

“I’m sorry,” she repeated for what felt like the hundredth time. It didn’t do any good for all the lies she was tangled in now.

“You’ve got that on repeat tonight, huh?” Roman rubbed his face, digging fists into his eyes. He sighed. “Look, sorry. I’m not trying to be a bastard. It’s just, that’s Cash.Cash.I’m a little shocked. He’s a piece of shit in the womanizing department. I mean, I love the guy, but shit. I wouldn’t have wanted you with him.”

“I don’t know if he was back when I knew him.”

“Cash has always been Cash.” Roman paused. “This is just a lot to take in. You’re alive. You were with Cash. You’re avoiding Mom and Dad. Heavy shit, Nic.”

“You should probably disown me and go back to thinking I’m dead. Everything was easier ten hours ago or so. Hurt a lot less too.”

“Nicola Beatrice, you’re my little sister. I can be angry at you. I might be furious or shocked or simply fucking confused, but I will never turn my back on you. You’re blood. You’re family, and for whatever fucked-up reason, you’re back. We need a sit down with Dr. Phil or some couch doc like that, ‘cause I think my head’s going to explode. But I’ll deal.”

She nodded.

He wrapped her in a bear hug. “Promise me you won’t run off in the middle of the night?”

Nicola shrugged into his embrace, nodding. “Promise. Besides, I don’t have wheels, and my boss is going to question my ass for blowing my extraction plans.”

“The CIA, huh?” A proud grin snaked across his face.

“Uh-huh.”

He hooked an arm around her as they walked out of the kitchen. “Well, how about that, baby sister?”

“Don’t give Cash a hard time. It was years ago, and I made the first move.”

Roman stopped walking and looked down the hall, clearly uncomfortable that the conversation had continued. “The last thing I want to talk about is the details of you with him. He and I will hash it out mano a mano.”

---