Page 12 of Bound by Family
“Bristyl! Open up,” Stone’s voice comes through the door.
Rolling off the couch with a groan, I move toward the door and open it.
My brother breezes right in, almost knocking me over in the process.Come on in.
He enters the kitchen and opens my refrigerator, his head buried inside of it.
“Sure, Stone, eat whatever you’d like. Drink whatever you’d like.”
“Shut it,” he says back, pulling out a small bit of a sandwich I didn’t eat a few days ago and chomping on it.
A smile plays on my lips, remembering I should have thrown it away because I dropped the sandwich on the ground. Serves him right.
“You bellowed?” I ask, resting my hip on the side counter.
My kitchen is small. It has the necessities—fridge, stove, sink, and microwave—but it’s about the size of a postage stamp. My father redid the countertops and put in new cabinets about three years ago, and I’ve kept it in really good shape. My cooking skill suck, so it’s golden for me.
“We got a run. We’ll be gone for a few days,” he tells me.
I shrug. “And?” This isn’t something new. My father and several of the guys go out on runs all the time. I don’t know what they do on them, and I don’t want to know. As long as they come home in one piece, that’s all I give a shit about.
“Most of us are going, including Hunter, Racer, Dad and me.”
This does come as a bit of a shock. Usually, one or two of my brothers stay behind. Someone is always at the clubhouse or garage when I’m there for work. It’s a bit unusual, but it’s their club and how they run it. I can’t say it doesn’t give me a twinge of anxiety, though, and I’m not sure why. The air in the club has been different these past few weeks, and I wish I knew the reason. It must just be me.
“Okay …?” I draw out, waiting for more of this puzzle to come together.
He shoves the sandwich into his mouth, then grabs a soda I didn’t see him pull out, popping the top and taking a swig. He’s tall, go figure. Unlike the rest of us, Stone has dark hair, almost black. He wears it long on the top and shaved on the sides. He has a slight beard and hazel eyes. They aren’t blue or green, but both. When I was younger, I used to hope I could have his eyes. Then reality kicked in.
“You’re on storage and laundromat duty.”
“Stone, I got this. I do it every day.”
“But one of us goes and fixes whatever’s wrong. You either need to call in one of our people or take a prospect with you if something happens.”
“Got it.”
No way in hell I’m calling a prospect to go with me to fix something. Normal things that happen are the bill validator jams up or someone can’t get a machine to work. It’s nothing I can’t handle. Yes, it’s nice to call one of my brothers and have them do it, but I’m more than capable. Needing a babysitter is not on my agenda.
“Just try not to burn it down.”
I hit him on his shoulder. “I only burned a trailer, and it wasn’t my fault!” I charge back with a smile in my tone. “That old thing needed to go, anyway.”
“Bristyl, you can’t burn a man’s camper on storage unit property. At least take it out in the back field.”
“I didn’t mean to.” I really didn’t. Its propane tank had a leak, and I didn’t know.
I had just tried starting to smoke. I lit a cigarette andboom. Luckily, I wasn’t hurt. Thrown back and hit my head, but not hurt. That was also the last smoke I put between my lips.
“Mean to or not, no fires.”
“No fires,” I repeat. “I got this, Stone. You don’t need to worry.”
He steps closer and wraps his arm around me before pulling me to him. I inhale the leather, smoke, and spice that is my brother. The scent is a comfort. His lips touch the top of my head, adding to that warm feeling.
“I’ll always worry about you … until I take my fuckin’ dying breath.”
I squeeze him a little bit harder. “I know, but you gotta let me loose a bit.”
