Page 26 of Thanking Her Brother's Best Friends

"I'm worried he is linked to the stalker ... or worse. The man was a monster when he was drunk. I wouldn't put it past him to do something exorbitantly cruel for the sheer pleasure he would get out of it."

"Very well. I'll look into this tonight."

I nodded and pointed to the duffle bag on the table. "Payment for last month's services. All cash, as discussed."

His expression did not change, but he gave me a slight smile. "Good night, Selene. As promised, your package is on the table."

I waited until he was gone before I walked up to the table and sat down beside a sleek thing wrapped in a subtle brown paper.

Growing up where I had, one of the earliest things my brother had taught me to do was defend myself. If I had to kill someone to do so, I would.

This urge was exemplified on the night I almost took a knife to Dave because he said unthinkable things about my son.

Come what may, storm or hail, I would stand like a fucking Goliath between the world's agonies and Oliver.

I undid the package and felt another tremor course through me as the cool sheen of the metal settled against my balmy, clammy palm, riddled with sweat and nerves.

Compact, slim, and concealable.

I raised the Sig Sauer P365 to my lips.

As Caruso would say,Vai in guerra per chi ami.

Go to war for the ones you love.

7

AIDEN

Dom was on the verge of going up in flames.

I was in the kitchen, watching the boys go at it. My mind was on a lot of things, but most of all, I regretted missing out on a very specific thing I should have done two days back.

It had been troubling me all morning, but right now, I was kinda enjoying watching the back-and-forth between my best friend and his sous-chef.

"I'm telling you, Dominic!" Pierre punctuated his words with a number of obscene flourishes. "That man is impossible. This is the third time he has sent the steak back, yes? Once, it was too well done. Next, not cooked enough. Now, he is saying it looks like it could moo if you stare at it long enough. I tell you, this is an insult to my capabilities.Vous devez le gronder, oui? I cannot take it! I will go and cut this piece of meat in front of him and shove it down his throat! I—"

"For the love of all your French ancestors in heaven, Pierre!" Dominic sounded like he just wanted a cold shower and to run away for a bit.

"I understand he is difficult, but such is the line of service. We will make him another steak, okay? And I will personally see to it that he does not leave any bad comments this time."

Pierre responded with more insults and cooked another filet mignon. Even to me, the amount of waste happening on account of this customer was too much. So, once it was ready, I stepped forward. "Come on, Pierre. Hand the plate to me."

"Aiden." Dominic's tone carried the beginnings of a warning. "You're not going to go in there and drop the steak on the gentleman's head."

I smiled benignly at him. "Now, that happened only once, and it was with cold noodles. The man kept asking for his cold noodles to be hot—what did you expect me to do? I promise, this time, he will praise your cooking skills to all the culinary gods, Pierre."

Pierre huffed and left the plate on the counter.

Dominic added the finishing touches, and I lifted it with a flourish and pranced out the back door into the dining area in an exaggerated ballet style of walking.

The man sitting at the hallowed table had a gaunt expression on his face.

Honestly, he looked like the type of guy who’d had it up to his balls because he was always getting shouted at by his boss or wife, or kid.

And since he couldn’t take it out on the world, he’d chosen to vent his anger on helpless people in the service industry.

Not cool, but then again, I was a tad quick to assume things. I set the plate down in front of him. “Your steak, sir,” I said, biting into each of my words before tossing them out.

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