Page 27 of Love Thy Brother
Still, our questionable exchange eased the tension banding my muscles. Alexei didn’t love River like I did; no one ever would. But he loved Cam. And he was the sharpest dude I’d ever met. Fierce. Resourceful. Efficient as fuck. No one was getting to River tonight.
After a protracted pause, I shut the curtains and forced myself away from the window.
The bedsit was cloaked in darkness. I tapped the torch on my phone, expecting barren carnage around me, but my tired brain had forgotten that Alexei was likely the last person here, and that dude liked shit tippity-top.Like,clinicallyclean. Ergo, the bedsit was spotless. Not a speck of dust or cigarette ash to be found. No beer cans or Rizla packets. No dubious stains on the couch that’d be my bed for however long I was here.
The lumpy cushions called my name, but the supplies I’d abandoned in the hallway needed stashing first. I fetched the bag Embry had given me and took it to the teeny kitchen area—just a fridge, a two-ring hob, and a microwave.
Embry loved to eat, but he didn’t cook, and his bag of tricks showed it. He’d packed bacon and three tins of random soup. Butter, but no bread. Carrots, for my eyesight presumably, and... a multipack of Rice Krispy Squares.
Delightful. I opened the empty fridge and chucked it all in, even the Squares. I had to be stoned off my box to eat that shite, and that wasn’t happening. I smoked enough to know I couldn’t quit cold turkey, but dulling my senses was off the fucking table. Everything was until River was safe.
The bedsit had the world’s smallest bathroom. I squeezed myself into the shower cubicle and washed the day away. There was no towel. Drying myself with a T-shirt, I returned to the window and cracked the curtains enough that I could see River’s house again. No lights or signs of life.
What if he went out?
On cue, my phone buzzed again.
Alexei:He is in his bed.
I didn’t want to know how Alexei knew that. Or maybe I did. So I could see it too. Anything to calm the stress spike I couldn’t seem to shift.
Either way, it wasn’t happening. Alexei, whether he liked the term or not, he was my brother and I trusted him.
Rubi:Thank you x
Motherfucker replied with a hamster emoji.
* * *
River’s extreme morning habits had expanded since I’d last been around enough to notice. When Saint called to rouse me, he was already at the garage.
“Fuck a duck.” I scrubbed a hand down my face. “What time is it?”
“Five.”
Saint ended the call without saying anything else.
Reeling, I dropped the phone somewhere on the couch and sat up, thankful I’d slept like a dead man and I didn’t have a fucking headache.
Thankful. Grateful. Seizing the moment while I had it, I rolled from the sofa, upright, in motion, and despite the bruises on my ribs, feeling good.Cos you get to see River.Even if he told me to fuck a cactus, today was everything I’d ever wanted.
Kinda.
I stamped into my boots and left the safehouse, keeping to the shadows of the misty dawn until I reached the road. Porth Luck was more bohemian than sleepy Whitness. I didn’t stand out as much, but I was still an oversized walrus skulking around in the dark. Wouldn’t do to get noticed if I could help it.
O’Brian’s Garage was three streets away. I tried not to jog, but I was antsy for multiple reasons. For one, I wasn’t used to conducting my business on foot. Without my brothers or my bike, I felt vulnerable as shit.
The second was uncertainty of what the hell I was walking into. I’d seen seven shades of River the day before. Angry. Scared. Concerned forme. By the time I’d left him, he’d almost seemed accepting of the fact I was gonna be in his face for the next however many weeks. But River was The Mood Chameleon. I’d have had more luck predicting the fickle Cornish weather.
I came up on the garage. The lights were off, front door locked, the whole place devoid of activity to the untrained eye. But I knew River’s habits. He’d be round the back, working in the dark, waiting for the sun to hit the sky with his sugary morning brew.
Besides, Saint was never wrong. If he said River was here, I had no doubts.
The back door was unlocked. I knocked a rhythm as old as we were and let myself in, half expecting an ambush.
I got silence instead, and the blissful sight of River’s dark hair spilling over his face as he bent over the desk in his tiny office, scowling at the paperwork that always piled on top of him.
He had a pencil tucked behind his ear and an oil smear on his cheek, so goddamn beautiful my heart performed acrobatics I wasn’t prepared for.
