Protecting Dallas

“What other bets you got going on?” I smirked. “Maybe I want in.”

Austin laughed outright. Kane chuckled.

“Wouldn’t you like to know…”

Twenty-Six

DALLAS

It was a restless, shitty day. The kind of day that always dragged its ass, when you really just wanted it to be over.

With the guys gone and the alarm code set, there was nothing much for me to do but wait. I tried occupying my time by cleaning, starting with the upstairs and working my way methodically through every room of the house.

The problem of course, was that I was living with three Navy SEALs. As military men, everything they owned was already in its proper place. I ran through the dishes, but the rest of the kitchen was annoyingly spotless. A byproduct of Austin being a neat freak, a slight gemaphobe, and having an incurable case of OCD.

I couldn’t really blame him. I’d been much the same way for most of my own life — a series of habits picked up through living with Connor. I wondered absently how many of the guys’ traits had actually been acquired from my brother. How much, like me, their lives had been molded by living with him.

By noon I was on the couch, flipping channel after channel. The more I sat there the more unsatisfied I became, so I got up and paced the house a bit for good measure.

Maybe I should call one of them?

It was a self-serving idea. Though they hadn’t specifically told me not to, I really wanted to leave them alone. Their work was important enough, without me seeming needy. And needy was the last thing I wanted to be.

The computer!

I booted up the machine the way Austin showed me; by logging in through a series of remote connections designed to mask my search history and location. Then I set to work, trying to find out anything I could about what had happened yesterday, in Summerlin and beyond.

You might’ve hurt someone. Are you okay with that?

I’d said I was, and I certainly meant it. Whoever had taken my brother away from me was not someone I should be feeling sorry for, or guilty for hurting.

Still…

I drilled down hard, looking for any record of the accident I’d caused. When the obvious searches came up empty I went after local forums and message boards in the area. Community social media groups, neighborhood watch kind of stuff. I even found an EMT page just for Las Vegas and the surrounding area. Even so… nothing.

These guys are more connected than we thought.

They had to be, which was why going to Nellis seemed so dangerous. Either the people checking the SUV out of the base’s motor pool knew how to avoid leaving a trail, or they were of such high enough rank that a trail didn’t matter. And I wasn’t sure which option was worse.

I shut down the computer mid-afternoon, then started dinner early. Cooking was yet another task I could use to pass the

time, only the sun set and the day ended and the food got cold on the stovetop…

… and there was still no sign from any of them.

Fuck it.

I grabbed the phone and was ready to start punching numbers when I saw a flash of headlights outside. They turned my way, heading up our empty block.

Thank God.

Relief flooded through me. Happiness even. It was a little crazy, how much I was looking forward to seeing them at the end of the day. My guys. My SEALs.

My lovers.

I punched off the alarm and flung open the door… but the driveway was empty. So was the street. Everything was darkness.

Stepping out onto the porch to get a better look, a cold feeling swept over me. Warning lights flashed in my brain.