Page 75 of Fury
My twin older brothers grin as I launch myself across the salon, throwing my arms around them both. Harlan catches me easily, lifting me off my feet in a bear hug before passing me to Cole.
"Surprise, squirt," Cole says, ruffling my hair affectionately. "Miss us?"
"What are you doing here?" I ask, stepping back to look at them properly. They're both tanned and fit, Harlan's dark hair longer than when I last saw him weeks ago, Cole's military short as always. "I thought you guys were still at State!"
"Semester ended early for us," Harlan explains, his smile fading as his eyes narrow, studying my face. "What the hell happened to your eye?"
I touch the faint yellowish bruise that’s barely visible. "It's nothing. Just a little girls' night drama that got out of hand."
"Girls' night drama," Cole repeats flatly, exchanging a look with Harlan that I recognize all too well. "And why are we just now hearing about this?"
"Because it wasn't a big deal," I insist, suddenly aware that my other clients are watching this reunion with undisguised interest. "Let's talk in the back."
Once in Aunt Brittany's office, I close the door and turn to face my brothers, whose expressions have hardened from concerned to downright angry.
"Explain," Harlan demands, arms crossed over his chest. "Now."
"It was just a bar fight," I begin, but Cole cuts me off.
"Just a bar fight? Livie, your eye is bruised. And what's this we hear about mob connections and death threats?"
My stomach drops. "How do you?—"
"Dad called us," Harlan says, his voice tight with barely controlled fury. "Last night. After Mason finally bothered to mention that our little sister has been in danger for weeks."
"I can't believe no one told us," Cole continues, pacing the small office like a caged animal. "Our baby sister gets mixed up with the mob, nearly gets killed, and we have to hear about it from Dad? After the fact?"
"I didn't want to worry you," I protest weakly. "You were in the middle of finals, and?—"
"Bullshit," Harlan snaps. "We're family. We had a right to know."
I sink into Aunt Brittany's chair, suddenly exhausted. "I know. I'm sorry. Everything happened so fast, and then Greyson was handling it, and?—"
"Greyson?" Cole interrupts, his eyebrows shooting up. "Greyson Reed? The Greyson Reed who's been after you since high school? That Greyson?"
I feel heat rise to my cheeks. "Yes, that Greyson. We're… together now."
My brothers exchange another loaded look.
"Define 'together,'" Harlan says carefully.
"Together as in he's my man and I'm his woman," I reply, lifting my chin defiantly. "It's serious."
Cole lets out a low whistle. "Well, that explains a few things. Like why Dad sounded ready to murder someone when he mentioned Greyson's name."
"Dad's fine with it," I protest. "He and Greyson have worked everything out."
"Maybe," Cole concedes, though he doesn't look convinced. "But that doesn't change the fact that you've been in danger, and no one bothered to tell us."
"I'm sorry," I say again, reaching for his hand. "I should have called you both. But honestly, it's been handled. Diane's gone, the mob connection has gone quiet, and I'm perfectly safe."
"Diane," Harlan repeats, his expression darkening. "Your so-called best friend who set you up to be killed?"
I flinch at his bluntness. "It wasn't exactly like that. She was in trouble, and?—"
"And she used you as a human shield," Cole finishes, his voice hard. "If I ever see that bitch?—"
"You won't," I cut him off. "No one's seen her in weeks. Not since she was spotted running through town, being chased by some men in suits."
