Mine to Hold (Mine 3)

Because the guy was there. Not wearing prison orange, but instead dressed in a black suit. Drake sure never would’ve guessed that man had spent the last nine years in a cell.

It turned out there were actually two Harrison boys. Ethan Harrison, and his older brother, Austin. Ethan was the black sheep, but the brother who currently sat beside him on the front row, right next to the casket, well, it seemed Austin Harrison was supposed to be the savior of the family.

He was an attorney, some big corporate deal. Drake had done a little digging, and he’d discovered that Austin was the one who’d kept the family afloat for so many years. After the senator had crashed and burned, it had been Austin who made sure the family never lost their position in Alabama society.

They’d kept their mansion. Kept their power.

Drake shifted again, moving to get a better view of the brothers. His eyes narrowed. Ethan was staring at the grave. He was…smiling?

“Are you a friend of Senator Harrison’s?” A soft voice asked him. “Or are you family?”

He turned his head and saw a petite beauty with light brown skin standing close by. “I’m neither,” he told her.

She tilted her head. The woman’s shoulders were straight. Her hair fell just to her chin. She was dressed simply but stylishly in black pants and a matching blouse. Her gaze held his, then slid to the mourners, as if assessing them.

His instincts kicked into gear. The way she was watching the crowd…

Cop. Or a private investigator. He could usually spot them easily.

Even when said cop came in the form of such a pretty package.

“Don’t bother,” she said, not glancing back at him. “I’m taken.”

Drake felt a grin curl his lips. “I was just admiring.”

“Um.” Her gaze was on Ethan Harrison. “Well, Mr. Neither, if you aren’t a friend or family member, then want to tell me why you’re at the funeral?”

“I was just passing through. It’s not every day that a senator gets buried.” He kept his eyes on her. “And what’s a cop with a northern accent doing down here in Alabama?”

“I’m the cop who found the senator’s body in D.C.”

“So why aren’t you in D.C. right now?”

Her gaze came back to his. “Because I’m trying to find a killer, Mr. Archer.”

Ah, he wasn’t Mr. Neither any longer. The lady had known exactly who he was all along. Interesting. “It would seem then you’re a pretty good cop.”

“You’re a friend of Noah York’s,” she said. Once more, her gaze turned to sweep the crowd. “Did he send you down here to watch the funeral…or to watch Ethan Harrison?”

“Neither.”

He thought her lips curled a bit at that answer. “Like I said, I’m just passing through,” Drake told her.

This time, she turned to face him. “Your friend could be a killer.”

There was no could be about it.

“You wouldn’t protect a killer, would you?”

I’d protect Noah York any day. “Once upon a time,” he said as he remembered days better left in the past, “Noah pulled me out of hell. A man doesn’t forget things like that.”

Because he could’ve died in a frigid prison, if Trace and Noah hadn’t fought so hard for him. They’d been willing to die in order to save him. No, he’d never forget what they’d done.

His gaze slid back to the funeral.

Drake knew that, if he had to, he’d kill in order to protect Noah. Because he would not just stand back and watch his friend crash and burn.

***

The funeral was over.

Ethan Harrison tried not to smile as he stared at the grave. His father was gone.

Good fucking riddance.

The mourners kept looking at him. They were driving him insane. There were so many whispers and curious stares. He hunched his shoulders. Looked at the ground. And tried to act like this wasn’t one of the best moments of his life.

I’ll be getting away soon.

His brother tried to brush by him. Ethan grabbed Austin’s shoulder. “We need to talk.” He steered his brother to the relative privacy of a nearby mausoleum. The guards stayed close, about ten feet away, so Ethan dropped his voice when he said, “You haven’t come to see me, brother.”

He and Austin had the same eyes. Same green color. Same shape. And right then, Austin’s eyes were bright with fury. “Why the hell would I come and see you?”

“Because we’re family!” That should be plenty of reason. “You don’t lock family away and forget about them.”

“You do if the family is anything like you.” Austin glared at him, the disgust plain to see on his face. That was Austin all right. Always looking down his nose at him. Always acting like he was so much better than Ethan.

You’re not.

“Everything that happened is on you,” Austin snarled at him. “If you’d just left that girl alone—”

“Claire.”

Austin’s eyelids jerked. “You should have left her alone.”

Austin had always been the perfect one. The quarterback. The valedictorian. The every-fucking-thing. “You saw her first,” Ethan recalled.

“What?”

“In the diner, you saw her first.” He could remember this so well. “I wouldn’t have noticed Claire at all, if you hadn’t been staring at her so hard. Hell, you even said…‘I’m gonna ask her out.’ I just beat you to the punch.”

Austin’s jaw dropped in surprise, and he surged toward Ethan. “That’s why you hooked up with Claire Kramer? Because you thought I wanted her?”

Ethan just smiled at him. You did want her, brother. I saw it in your eyes.

Austin sucked in a deep breath. Then he smiled, too. And laughed. “You’re such an idiot, Ethan. I hope you enjoyed your afternoon of freedom, because it’s over. They’re waiting to take you back to jail.” His voice dropped to a low whisper. “And guess what happens when you get back? Your preferential treatment ends. No more being separated from the others. Welcome to general pop.”

Was that supposed to scare him?

“Dad’s gone. And I’m not as blind as he was. Everything will change for you now. You did the crime, and you’ll suffer for it.”

Ethan glanced away from Austin’s glittering eyes. “One thing I always wondered…” His stare lingered a moment on the casket. Rot, old man. Rot. “Did he hit you, too? Or did he just save that shit for me?”

Silence. Maybe that was his answer.