Page 34 of Alexei (Belles & Mobsters 4)

“Mission accomplished.” Sailor winked. “I think all three of us earned those badges.”

“Besides, your brother already told us he plans on grilling you,” Willow sneered. “You know how he is.”

That was the problem. I did know how he was. “He wouldn’t be so rude to deny you three coming,” I tried one more time.

I knew they wanted to stay behind and play Xbox with Gabriel. Those two were damn addicts, a bad example for my godson. Here they were in New Orleans, and they were more concerned with an Xbox than sightseeing. “You guys have been playing the stupid game for the past two hours. It is Sunday, and we only have another day.”

The three shared a look and then shook their heads. “Nah. We’ll have lunch here.”

“Traitors,” I muttered, slightly annoyed.

I mentally prepared for a battle of words. Because Byron was good like that. Probably why people speculated he’d make it very far in politics. As much as you wanted to keep your mouth shut, he had a way of dragging an answer out of you and convincing you to do what he thought best.

It was probably why thegreatSenator Ashford always used Byron when he needed extra votes. Persuasive bastard! I loved him, but still, it wasn’t right.

As we both headed towards my car, he spoke up, “I’m driving.”

I rolled my eyes. “Byron, this is the twenty-first century. Womencandrive, you know.”

He shrugged his one shoulder, ignoring my sarcasm. “That is debatable. I’d like my stomach intact, thank you very much. Your constant braking makes me nauseous.”

I shot him an annoyed look.

“I don’t ride the brakes,” I protested.

“Yes, you do.”

“Asshole!” I muttered. “Where is my sidearm when I need it?”

He chuckled, unperturbed. “Keys, little sister,” he demanded.

“I might take you to a food truck for lunch,” I threatened half-heartedly, then threw the keys over the hood of the car, secretly hoping he’d miss them and they’d hit his handsome face.

No such luck.

I’ve learned the battles I could win with my brothers over my lifetime. This wasn’t one of them so there was no sense in arguing with him who should drive. It would go on all night.

Byron opened the driver door and got behind the wheel as I got into the passenger seat.

He hadn’t even started the car before he started pouncing. “How long have you been stalked?”

I exhaled, watching as he pulled away from the parking lot and into the traffic. My brother certainly didn’t beat around the bush. Byron acted more like my father than our own father. I found comfort in the knowledge he did it with all his siblings, but he went slightly overboard with me. All my brothers did.

A sharp pain pierced through me thinking about Kingston. Would my brothers be so protective of me if they knew I was responsible for his disappearance? Or would they cut all their ties with me and hate me? Anxiety washed over me, my mind whirling with anguish and scenarios of being abandoned. I was trying so hard to fix it by catching this predator. It was my way of paying for my sins.

His hand shot out and grabbed mine, forcing my hand open. “Rora, you have to stop,” he said in an exasperated tone. “This was the reason I didn’t want you to work for the FBI. You take things too personally.”

I yanked my hand back and lowered my eyes to find the crescent indentions from my fingernails in my skin.

“I don’t know that I am being stalked,” I retorted dryly, not commenting on his remark. “It just started this weekend. So it could be you.”

He huffed. “Nobody smart would stalk me.”

“Confident much?” I asked sarcastically.

He ignored me, his eyes focused on the road and the constant traffic that flowed in and out of the French Quarter.

“We should get you out of here,” he suggested.

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