Page 110 of Heart Sick Hate

Every Kingsley has spilled blood—apart from Rhett. It might as well be stained on the family crest. Dad’s path for revenge after Mom’s death led us down some dark roads. And something about taking a soul out of a person sticks with you. There’s no shaking those demons.

Echo might have stabbed a man, but she’s never taken a life. While she thinks she understands her dark side, it’s nothing compared to mine. And even if I want the man who tried to touch her dead, I’m glad she wasn’t the one to do it. There’s no erasing the vision of life leaving someone’s eyes.

I sit across from Adam and kick my feet up on the desk, which he frowns at. It’s no secret he thinks I’m unruly and disrespectful, but it’s better than being a kiss-ass.

We don’t understand each other. I doubt we ever will. Three brothers bred from the same fucked up family, and somehow we all ended up different.

“How’s the hunt for Rhett’s shooter?”

Adam taps the desk. “Nothing new yet.”

“Losing your touch, brother?”

Adam smirks, crossing one ankle up on his opposite knee. “Of course not. Things have calmed down. I think whoever did it might have given up. At least, for now.”

“So what’s with all the extra security then? You think I don’t notice the cars tailing me?”

“Not that it’s changed how you’re approaching anything.” He’s not the least bit guilty about the fact that he’s got surveillance on his entire family.

If anything, he’s proud of it.

“You’re lucky it’s me watching, not Dad.”

“God forbid he sees his favorite son can’t keep his girlfriend satisfied.”

“Because that’s all this is…” Adam narrows his gaze.

“That’s between her and me.” I lean back. “So you have no idea who targeted Rhett?”

Nothing is more annoying than when Adam avoids answering questions. It’s the one and only trait he picked up from our father. He can dodge anything he wants, and it’s why he’s so successful.

Me, on the other hand—I prefer more brutal, specific methods.

I’m straight to the point. Leaving no confusion for anyone involved.

“Didn’t say that.” Adam taps his thumb on his thigh, clearly not happy about something the way his jaw tightens the slightest. “But it’s more complicated than we thought.”

“Meaning?” I swear if I have to punch my brother in his billion-dollar face it will at least move this conversation along.

“I think it was personal.”

I can’t help but laugh. “You’re saying someone doesn’t love our saint of a brother?”

Adam smirks because he knows Rhett as well as I do. The show he puts on for his church is just that—makebelieve. It feeds his ego, his mommy issues, and his need to be loved. But it isn’t for them. And it isn’t for God.

“So who wants Rhett dead then?” I lace my fingers together behind my head and lean back.

“Long list apparently.”

I can’t help but smirk. “Maybe look into one of his many girlfriends. You know he’s fucking around on Echo, right?”

“And what she’s doing with you is any different?”

Adam doesn’t operate in the gray area. Everything with him is black or white. Right or wrong. Yes or no. Which is why he doesn’t understand what I’m doing with Echo. And also why he came to the shop the other day and tried to convince me to make a decision.

He stands up, straightening his suit jacket and finishing up the buttons as he circles the desk and stops to lean on the edge of it in front of me. I can’t remember the last time I’ve seen Adam wear anything other than a suit.

“This isn’t a game, Crew.”

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