Page 45 of Betrayed

Behind me, Erin calls gently, “Everything okay?”

“Come in, meet Erin.” I shuffle us all into the warmth of the living room and close the door.

She cautiously steps toward him, wrapped in my heavy green jacket, her jeans tucked into her boots. Her eyes scan Gregory, her brows raising. “You didn’t say all you Bachmans look alike, too.”

“Erin, this is Gregory.” I pause, bracing for the punchline. “My brother.”

She tilts her head. “Right. Gregory Bachman.”

I smirk. “No. My little brother.”

“Like, blood brother?” Her gaze flicks to me. “I didn’t know you had one.”

“Exactly how I planned it,” I mutter.

Gregory’s eyes crinkle. “You kept me a secret?”

“I kept you safe,” I say. “There’s a difference.”

Erin nods with a slight smile and gestures toward the kettle. “Coffee?”

Gregory hesitates. “Only if it’s not instant.”

“It is,” Erin replies cheerfully.

Gregory winces. “Then yes, please.”

She grins and turns back to the stove.

I lean against the wall, watching him take it all in—the rustic wood-paneled cabin, the battered couch, the table strewn with maps and weapon schematics. His gaze lingers on my sidearm, then the faint scar on my jaw, too noticeable for the growing beard to cover.

“I almost didn’t recognize you,” he says after a beat. “You’ve changed.”

“No shit.”

“You look older.”

“I am older.”

“You look dangerous.”

I grin. “That, I always was.”

He sobers. “And worried.”

That one cuts. When am I not? And now, with him here as well as Erin…

“Yeah.”

Erin drifts over and hands him a cup of her coffee. “I’ll make you some eggs,” she offers before going back to the stove.

“Thanks, I didn’t have time to eat.” He sniffs it, whispering to me, “This smells like the dirt outside.”

“It’s worse,” I say with a grin.

Still, he takes a sip and fights the grimace like a goddamn gentleman.

Reaching out, I grab his forearm resting on the table. “I missed you,” I say suddenly, before I can stop myself.