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Justice shrugged. “She’s been dating Asher for like eight years. It’s not shocking.”

“When’s the wedding?”

“March.” He stared at them. “They’ve actually been engaged for a while. She just got a ring recently. He’s been deployed and all that. But when he was in town a few weeks ago he gave her the ring. And now he’s gone again, which is why she’s been over here so much.”

“You... good with that?” Landry asked. “With her getting married?”

Justice made a dismissive noise. “Yes. She’s happy. She’s the nicest, most organized, most together person I know. She makes me look like the biggest degenerate on the planet, and I love her for it. I’m glad she found someone who’s like her.”

Daughtry had never fully understood the relationship between Justice and Rue, but if pressed he would have said it had some... sexual tension there. But maybe not. Maybe he’d been wrong all this time.

“So. Give us the story,” said Denver.

It took Daughtry a minute to realize Denver was no longer talking to Justice.

“Not much to tell. Her van broke down on the outskirts of the ranch. She needs money to fix it. She’s kind of down-and-out.”

“That’s very nice of you, Daughtry,” said Justice.

“He’s a martyr,” said Denver. “He’s not nice.”

“That’s mean,” said Landry, feigning shock.

“I’m mean,” Denver said blandly.

“The way I see it,” Daughtry said, ignoring his brothers, “we can find her some odd jobs to do, get her set up and send her on her way. But she’s going to need a place to stay.”

“Where exactly?”

“I’m not going to farm her out to you. We’ll have to get one of the other houses on the property habitable. Until then... Well, tonight at least I thought I’d sleep on the couch and have her sleep in my bed.”

Denver and Landry exchanged a look.

“Really?” Daughtry said. “Do you honestly think—”

“No,” said Landry. “That’s the thing. I do not think. Not of you. You wouldnever. I’m just wondering if she’s going to think...”

“I already made it clear to her that I’m not expecting payment for this,” he said, his lip curling. “Because you know there’s plenty of guys that would only help her so that they could take advantage of her.”

And the question swirling around inside of him was why he was helping her.

Because he was a good person? Maybe it was really just because it was the opposite of what his dad would’ve done. That was what he told himself in the beginning. It was what he’d told her.

His brothers were looking at him with cool speculation. It was his sister who came to his immediate defense. “You’re just a good one, Daughtry. You have the ability to help and so you do. There’s nothing deeper than that to it. You don’t need to.”

“You’re doing what any of them would do,” said Fia. “Whether they think so or not. You’re all good men. You would never leave a woman vulnerable.”

That he did believe. His brothers were all good men. They weren’t like their father. They didn’t try to bleed everybody around them for whatever they could get.

Daughtry had made sure that his entire life was a condemnation of the way that his father had behaved. The way that he had behaved.

That was the problem. His brothers could rest in the fact that they weren’t their father.

Daughtry couldn’t.

He made sure that his life was all about black-and-white. All about laws and rules in order, because he had seen who he was without it. He didn’t like that person. He was determined to never be that person again.

It was easy for him to decide what to do when he put it in context with his job. What was the point of being a police officer if he didn’t help? It was the kind of thing that made his day a bit easier to navigate.