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Brawler eyed a buxom babe with long blonde hair and curves to spare. A little hay-making was sounding damn good when his phone rang.
He checked the screen, froze for half a second, then answered quickly, any thoughts of women or drink wiped from his mind. His pulse hammered. “Hank?”
The voice on the other end was low, tight with guilt. “I’m sorry, man. Ray snatched Toby right off the sidewalk outside the center. Said they were going on a little ‘trip.’ He didn’t even pack him a bag.”
Brawler’s jaw clenched, his knuckles white around the glass. “Hank?—”
“I couldn’t stop him, Chris. I thought that sleazy fucker was gone for good, but you know how Ray is. Slick. Fast. One minute I was locking up the damn file cabinet, the next Toby was gone. I’m sorry. My guess? Vegas. Toby will be terrified of all that fucking noise.” The glass cracked in his grip. Then shattered. Conversation at the table stopped cold. Every head turned toward him. Hank growled, “You need backup, man?” I’ll storm that fucking beach and use his skivvy ass as target practice. Say the word.”
“No, Hank. I’m getting him back and he needs you.”
Brawler stood abruptly, ignoring the blood pooling in his palm. He tossed a wad of bills on the bar and stormed toward the door.
“Yo, Brawler? What the hell?” Flash stood.
“Don’t,” Brawler growled without looking back.
But the others didn’t hesitate. Chairs scraped, boots hit the floor, and within seconds, the entire team followed him into the parking lot.
“You’re bleeding,” Twister said.
“I’m fine.”
“You’re not fine,” Easy snapped. “Talk to us.”
“I said I’ve got it handled.”
Flash moved in front of him. “You don’t get to go full lone-wolf and pretend we don’t see you unraveling. What’s going on?”
“Nothing,” Brawler snapped. “Just leave it. I’m going off the rails, and I’m not taking you all with me. We’ll be UA, no fucking way.”
He turned toward his truck and never saw the leg coming.
Dagger stuck a foot out, sending him stumbling forward with a grunt. He caught himself just before his face hit the pavement.
Brawler spun around, furious. “What the hell?”
“You didn’t cooperate,” Dagger said, arms crossed, calm as stone. “You really thought you’d bulldoze your way out of here and none of us would follow?”
“You tripped me?”
Dagger grinned. “At least I didn’t punch your lights out.”
“We voted,” Flash said, deadpan. “Unanimous decision. That juggernaut momentum of yours needed a full-stop intervention.”
Twister grinned. “It was either that or a tranquilizer dart. I left mine in my other jeans.”
Brawler’s glare could’ve melted steel. But it cracked, just slightly, at the edges.
“My brother,” he muttered. His voice dropped, rough and raw. “His name’s Toby. He’s… different. Gentle. Brilliant. He doesn’t see the world like we do. He’s in Vegas right now with the same piece-of-shit uncle who tried to use him like a slot machine the last time he needed to pay off a debt.” His voice wavered. “I didn’t tell you because…because I didn’t want you to see that part of me. I thought I could keep it separate.”
“You didn’t tell us,” Dagger said quietly, “because you didn’t think we were your family.”
Brawler’s jaw flexed.
“You think we wouldn’t want to know about your brother?” Dagger stepped closer. “We go to war over less. You think we’d sit this one out?”
“Next time,” Twister added, “you bring Toby to the team cookout or we’re all tripping you in formation.”