Smart, Sexy and Secretive (The Reed Brothers 2)

“Where are his hearing aids?” I ask Sam.

He shrugs. “Did you check his belongings?” He points toward a cabinet across the room. In it there’s a bag with everything Logan had on him when the accident happened. I look through it but can’t find the hearing aids.

I pick up a small silver bar. “What’s this?” I ask.

Sam’s face flushes. “Piercing,” he mumbles, not looking me in the eyes.

“Oh,” I say, and I bite back a snicker. All of Logan’s jewelry is in the bag. They removed all of his piercings and stored them for him. Even the one from the base of his johnson. Goodness.

I open his wallet, just because I’m nosy. There’s a charcoal drawing of me that he has in his driver’s-license window, and there are a few dollars in cash in the bill compartment. There’s a folded-up note, and I open it. I can’t help it—the curiosity is killing me. I realize immediately that it’s the note I wrote to him when I finally told him my name. Tears burn my eyes. He saved it. He had it tattooed on his butt, too, but he carries my note around like it’s important to him. “There are no hearing aids in here.”

“They may have been lost in the crash.”

“We’ll have to see about getting new ones before he needs them.”

Sam blows. “Do you know how much those things cost?”

I look up. I have no idea what they cost. “A lot?”

“Like way more than we have.” He growls low in his throat. “I’m tired of being f**king poor. It blows.”

“Your family is rich in all the ways that my family is not,” I remind him. I look at him as he swipes a frustrated hand through his hair. “Is that why Pete did what he did?”

He nods. “I think so.”

“I told him not to get involved with Bone. That it would only get him in trouble.” I told him that months ago, when he first started talking with the man. I hate to say I told you so, but when I do…

“I was there that night,” Sam blurts out. He rubs the back of his closely shaved head.

“What night?”

“The night Pete was arrested. I was there. We were unloading the truck together.”

“Oh.” I don’t know what more to say. “How did Pete get arrested and you didn’t?”

“Pete looked up at me and told me to run. So, I ran, and Pete got caught. I’ll never forgive myself.” He bites his lower lip, idly tonguing his piercing. “He told me if I confess, he’d deny that I was there. Fucking moron.”

“Did you tell Paul and Matt?” I don’t know why that matters, but it does.

He nods. “They know.” He shakes his head. “I thought Paul was going to kill me.”

“What did he do?”

He kicks at a piece of imaginary dirt on the floor. “He hugged me.” He shrugs. “That’s all.”

“Why were you messing with Bone at all?” I ask. I can’t help it. Everyone knows who Bone is and what he does.

He sighs. “We wanted to be sure that we had enough money saved to pay for Matt’s treatment, if he needed one again. So, we started doing odd jobs. None of it was illegal.” He holds up one hand like he’s testifying. “I swear it. We wouldn’t have gotten involved if it was illegal.”

“What kind of jobs?”

He doesn’t look at me. “Delivering packages, letters. Collecting on accounts. Unloading trucks. That kind of stuff.”

The stuff that was illegal as hell, and he knew it.

“Pete’s paying the price.” He growls and runs a hand through his hair again. “I’ll never forgive myself.”

“My dad is working on it,” I remind him.

“Your dad’s a miracle worker now?” he asks, his brow shooting up.

I laugh. “Not the last time I checked.”

He gets quiet for a minute. “Hey, Em,” he says. I look up at him. “I never did thank you for saving Matt’s life.”

I wave a breezy hand at him. “It was nothing.”

His eyes narrow. “You love my brother, right?”

I look down at Logan’s sleeping form. “More than anything.”

“You’re going to have to marry him.”

I pretend to pout. “Well, if I have to…”

Sam laughs. “I’m glad he has you. I’m glad we all do.”

Tears prick at the backs of my lashes, but I blink them back. Sam pulls me into a tight hug, and I don’t know what do for a minute. I get this from Matt all the time but never Sam.

Sam turns away from me, and I see the tattoo on the back of his neck. I don’t know why I never noticed it before. It says “Pete” in big, chunky, gothic-looking letters.

“Why do you have Pete’s name tattooed on your neck?” I ask.

He grins widely. “When we were twelve, our dad still couldn’t tell us apart. So, he decided to tattoo our names on our necks.” He smiles even more broadly. “When he sat us down in the chair, he asked which one I was, and I said Pete. And then he put my name on Pete’s neck. Our mom was so angry. You have no idea.” He rubs at the back of his neck. “I kind of like it.”

“I do, too.”

Logan

It has been a week since I woke up. I hurt like a motherfucker for days, but it’s getting better. Today, I get to go home. Emily is on the way to pick me up, and we’re going to her apartment, since she has an elevator and I can’t take the stairs. My leg is in a cast from the middle of my thigh to my toes. It itches like crazy, but they keep telling me not to scratch it.