Page 25 of Marked for Danger

His voice sounded rougher than she remembered, and there was a hint of caution hiding within his deep tone that wasn’t there the last time they spoke.

Her brother’s six-foot frame was bulkier than before, his muscles sculpted and toned in a way that made her think he spent several hours a week at the gym. His dark hair falling in a shaggy disarray.

The lines of worry etched across his forehead deepened, as if he couldn’t believe she stood there before him. Round hazel eyes, once filled with mischief and laughter, now carried a hint of sorrow. Shadows that spoke of life’s burdens marred the delicate skin beneath his gaze.

“Hey, Olly.” She placed her hands in the oversized pockets of her coat, for no other reason than she wasn’t sure what to do with them.

“Wha…what are you doing here?”

“I was about to ask you the same thing.” A small smile lifted her lips, her pulse a fast and steady staccato of nerves. “Can I come in?”

After a moment’s hesitation, he glanced up and down the hallway, almost as if he were afraid of someone seeing them together. Though it broke her heart to know he had to take time to ponder her request, she understood why he would.

“I won’t stay long,” she offered, her own voice betraying a mix of sadness and pain. “ I just…”

She what…came here to try to convince him to risk his life by working with the Feds to catch a killer? Not exactly the heartwarming reunion she’d been hoping for. But before she could come up with a believable reason for showing up unannounced when he hadn’t even told her he’d returned to Denver, Olly shifted to the side and made room for her to pass.

“Thanks.” Izzy stepped into the dimly lit home. Standing in the tiny living room, she did a quick—and hopefully indiscernible—visual of where her brother had been staying.

Dull, peeling wallpaper, carpet that looked older than her, furniture that was functional but extremely dated, dishes piled in the sink…

This is all my fault.

The door shut behind her, pulling Izzy’s focus back to where it needed to be.

“How did you, uh…how did you find me?” Olly came to a stop next to where she still stood.

She’d never lied to her brother before, and she wasn’t going to start now. “The FBI gave me your address.”

“FBI?” Alarm flashed across his confused gaze. “Why the hell are the Feds looking for me?”

“They aren’t looking for you, Ol. They…” Izzy turned toward the living room and sighed. “Maybe we should sit down for this conversation.”

Motioning toward the worn and faded couch, he told her, “Knock yourself out.” As he followed her the few feet it took to get there, Olly added a sarcastic, “I’d offer you something to drink, but I’m guessing your tastes are a little more refined than mine.”

“Please don’t do that.” Izzy lowered herself onto the thinly padded cushion.

“Do what?”

“You hide behind sarcasm and humor so people don’t see your pain.”

“You shrinkin’ me now, Sis?” He plopped down into the mismatched chair resting against the room’s west wall. “You should know by now that shit doesn’t work on me.”

“I’m just expressing what I can see. And those walls of yours…” She swallowed. “They’re the same ones I see every time I look into a mirror.”

Olly’s hard lines softened, and for the first time since opening the door, he almost looked like the brother she remembered. Almost.

“Why are you here, Iz? And before you ask, I still don’t do drugs, I rarely drink, and I haven’t had so much as a parking ticket since before I left Denver the last time. Oh, and I have a good job.”

“Working for Dante Valdez?” She watched him closely.

His brows furrowed. “How did you…oh, right. The Feds.” He lifted a leg and rested it over the other knee. “What is it this time? Because whatever it is they think I’ve done, I swear to you, I haven’t—”

“It’s not like that,” she rushed for reassurance. “Your boss…” Izzy blew out a breath and went for it. “Olly, Dante Valdez is a very bad man. He’s suspected to have given orders for at least three murders, all members of a local Mexican gang very much active here in the city. A gang Valdez has known ties to.”

“I just told you, I’m not doing anything legal.”

“I don’t think you are. But your boss is. And it’s bad, Olly. We’re talking drugs, weapons…human trafficking. The Feds think he’s in deep with all that stuff, and if you’re working for him—”

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