28

Dax

When the sheriff reached out to help Travis across the ditch, it had been all I could do to sit quietly and watch. I didn’t want the man’s hands on Travis, even if he was just trying to keep him from falling in the ditch. Protecting Travis was my job. Shit. I really was fucked up. How many times had I made fun of Remington for wanting to challenge men who even looked at Henri? No way in hell would I ever apologize for that, even though I now understood why he acted that way.

When Sheriff Winston and Travis had their backs to us, focused on the truck, Ambrose signaled me with a bird call, and we both began a slow approach.

I stepped on a twig, and the sheriff started to turn, but Travis pretended to slide down the bank, and the sheriff leapt into action to save him from falling into the nasty water. I wanted Travis safe and dry. I also wanted to shoot the man’s head off.

Ambrose glared at me, and I flipped him off. No one moved as silently as he did. When we were within a few yards of the ditch, we stepped out from the cover of the trees and raised our weapons. We moved in perfect synchronicity. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed that, the ability to silently communicate with my twin, to be in perfect sync with each other. I’d spent more time with Ambrose in the last few days than I had in months, and it felt good, really good. Could I possibly lure him back into truly becoming part of the family again?

“We have a proposal for you, Sheriff,” Ambrose said. “Turn around slowly and keep your hands up.”

He didn’t go for his weapon, but he didn’t turn around either. “So this was all a setup?”

Travis nodded and gave him an adorable smile he didn’t deserve. “Sorry.”

“Turn around,” Ambrose ordered, his tone colder this time.

The sheriff did as he said. As he raised his hands, he took in both of us and the weapons pointed at him. I was certain he was assessing his surroundings and his chances of escape. Travis raised the gun I’d given him and pointed it at Winston’s back, but I could see Travis’s hands shaking.

“We have a proposal for you,” Ambrose said.

“I could listen a lot better if you lowered those weapons.”

I smiled, knowing I looked menacing as hell. “I’m sure that’s true, but I doubt you’d be as cooperative then.”

“I might be if you asked nicely.”

Ambrose huffed. “Don’t try that good old boy shit on me. You’re a city cop, and you’re the last person I’d trust.”

“You seem to know something about me. Why don’t you tell me who you are?”

“Ambrose Theriot, this is my brother, Dax, and our friend.” He gestured toward Travis.

He studied us for a moment. “Any relation to Remington Theriot?”

“He’s our cousin,” I said.

“I see, and what can I help you with?”

The sheriff was being way too accommodating. Either he was underestimating us—which was unlikely if he knew Remington by reputation—or he intended to pretend to go along with us until he had a plan.

“Maybe we should bring him back to the city with us,” I suggested. “We’d be a lot more comfortable there while we discussed our proposal.”

Ambrose turned to me, and I had no doubt he was pissed as hell. I wasn’t supposed to go off script. I kept my attention on the sheriff. No way in hell was he making a move on us while we were arguing.

“We can get all the answers we need here.”

I thought hard about how dangerous it would be to let the sheriff walk away after we made our deal. I didn’t truly believe Ambrose could read my mind, but I wished he could right then. I couldn’t say anything else. The last thing we needed was the sheriff thinking he could pit us against each other or that we didn’t have a clear plan.

“I understand you’re having some trouble with drug runners in your parish,” Ambrose said.

The sheriff made no response.

I softened my expression, trying to look a little more friendly. “We don’t like the way they do business, and we’d like your cooperation in making that problem go away.”

“I don’t work with criminals.”

“Now that’s just not true,” Ambrose said. “I understand you made a deal with a very shady character in order to bring down a murderer.”

His eyes widened. “How did you find out about that?”

I grinned. “It’s in the reports from the investigation.”

“No, it isn’t, and even if it was, those records aren’t available to the public.

“Do you really think that would stop us?” Ambrose asked. “And did you just admit to leaving out information about an investigation.”

“The chief was protecting the fucking murderer. I didn’t have a lot of choice.”

Tags: Silvia Violet The Theriot Family Romance
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