He sighed into the phone. “We’re going to watch Harper here as much as we can, so get the word out to our usual people. If he dispatches his team and they’re heading to Cain, you might need to owe a favor to your team there.” He kept going, “I don’t know your team that well up there. Brock has a good rep. He’s solid. Was military. Hawk’s known, too. Gramps and Bonnie have been around forever, so their rep is nationally known.”
Right. Not my usual crew, but my job crew.
He continued, “They’re known as tight-knit. Mostly a family group. Gramps and Bonnie hooked up later in their lives, but still, they’ve been together probably twenty years. Bonbon is nuts, so stay away from her if you can. She’s Bonnie’s daughter, and rumor is that she’s obsessed with Shetland. You’re staying away from Shetland, right?”
“As much as I can.” He and I hadn’t discussed any of them, not to this length, at least.
The door opened again, and Cross came out. Blaise was behind him, a cocky smirk on his face, as usual.
Cross frowned at the phone, but placed my drink in front of me, taking the seat next to me. Blaise pulled out the chair on the far side, sitting down and immediately lounging back, throwing one arm over the back corner of his chair.
I noticed he didn’t have a drink, and there was a restless edge to him. He was staring at the phone, too.
‘Taking stock.’ That’s what Cross said his brother did, and I was seeing it now. The cocky smirk was a mask, but there was a serious air to him. His eyes flashed to mine, and for a second, he looked like he knew he was caught. Then his smirk came on full force and he didn’t move. He didn’t say a word, but I sensed him transforming. He was pulling back, the mask being pulled more firm, more set, and then it was only mask.
Huh.
“—they’re a family-type unit, but I’ll call Gramps. I need to come up, meet Brock face to face. He’s their leader. They can step in if we need it.” A beat passes. “Bren? You still there?”
“Yeah. Cross and his brother joined a minute ago.”
Another beat of silence, this one more pregnant. “Okay. I’ll call once I know more. Love you.”
“Love you.” I reached forward. Channing ended the call, but I tucked my phone into my pocket and lifted my chin toward Blaise. “Thought you left?”
“I did. Took Aspen home. Now I’m back.” He made a show of looking around. “It’s just the two of you?”
Cross narrowed his eyes, watching his brother with me.
Blaise’s gaze skirted between us before glancing to the driveway. “I’m noting a certain someone’s truck is gone.”
Cross and I shared a look.
Blaise was here for a reason.
Cross indicated him with his glass. “I wasn’t lying when I said I’d call you when we went to get Harper.”
“Bullshit.” It came out low and smooth, and Blaise didn’t lose an inch of his smirk. But he was calling his brother out.
Cross didn’t move. He was just like his brother, both were tense, both watching the other warily, as if waiting for a mortal adversary to make the first move before launching the all-out attack. The air started sweltering around us. My own chest felt like it was deflating from the pressure.
Blaise moved, but only to sweep a hand around the area. “Your boy is gone. Your other boy is gone, too. I highly doubt both are off doing their own thing.”
“You’re insulting us.”
“And your boys aren’t including you because they don’t want me in the mix.”
“Jordan and Tabatha—”
“I got a call, too. Sweets was dropped off at her sorority house ten minutes ago—”
We jumped up.
Curses were said.
Keys were grabbed.
Yeah. We knew what that meant.
Jordan and Zellman were going after Harper without us, and they were probably doing it to ‘protect’ us.
“Fuck!” Cross only said that much as we were both running for his truck.
“No.” Blaise was right with us. “My Wagon is faster.”
Fuck, fuck, fuck, because he was right. His was faster.
Cursing, Cross darted in front of me.
Blaise went to the driver’s side. Cross was in the front passenger seat. I climbed into the back. We were peeling out of there in the next second. Blaise was grim, pushing buttons on his dashboard, and a second later, ringing sounded through the vehicle.
“Yo! My dude! Tell me you’re coming over. We’ve got some—”
Blaise swung a tight left.
I had to throw a hand out, catching myself.
Cross didn’t move a muscle.
“Zeke,” Blaise cut his best friend off.
“What?” The party mood was gone in an instant. There was sound on his end, conversations, laughter, music and it was fading fast. He was moving away from it. “What’s going on?”
Blaise took another right, this time his side wheels going over the pavement. But watching him, he was calm, deadly calm. So was his voice. “You need to tell me where Harper is, and you need to not tell anyone else that you told me. You hear me?”