Page 23 of The Brave and the Reckless (Bravetown #1)

“Okay. Yeah. I think I have to get Zuri home. She’s got to be in the office bright and early, and Austin is our designated driver.”

“Good call. I’m heading out soon too.” I tipped my bottle toward the door, and by extension my perfectly quiet bedroom just across the street.

Sinan’s face contorted.

“What’s wrong?”

He sighed. “Look, I know that you two hate each other, but…”

“Hate?”

“You and Esra.”

“Shit, Sanny, she’s your family, so I wouldn’t call it hate.”

He shook his head at me with an amused grin. “What’s said on the intercom, never stays on the intercom. There’s a pool going on which one of you will snap first. ”

“Okay, so we’re not exactly friendly…” And I probably owed Vivi a giant thank you for not telling Sinan about me storming into the office the other day, ready to get Esra fired.

Seeing the confliction on his face now, I actually felt bad for doing it.

I might be an only child, but I still knew what it meant to take responsibility for your family.

“If Zuri and I both go home now, can you just keep an eye on Ez? She’s having a good time, and I’m glad she’s getting along with everyone, but she’s only been here three weeks, she’s never lived away from home…

I know it’s only like a two-minute walk.

She’s probably perfectly fine to get home on her own. I mean, she’s an adult, right?”

“I’ve got it,” I said, mostly because I still felt like a dick for trying to get his little sister fired, and partially because the last time Esra and Zuri had a good time , she wanted to blow up heads of lettuce with fireworks. Unsupervised, she might end up burning down the whole park.

As if on cue, Esra crowed like a rooster in the next room.

Sinan wrinkled his brow and touched his hearing aid. “Was that… ?”

I just nodded, and he sighed before thanking me again and going off to find Zuri.

That ass took my bag of chips.

I snatched up another one and settled in at the kitchen table, keeping an ear on the quiz show in the living room while I scrolled through the social media posts I’d been tagged in. I untagged myself from all the ones that criticized the new Annie Lou.

At some point, Vivi joined me at the table. She’d changed into striped PJs, her blue hair piled into a bun atop her head. Without asking whether or not I wanted to play, she started passing out Uno cards. Two games later, she was barely able to keep her eyes open, and went upstairs to her room.

Judging by the sounds of it, the lightning round was going strong.

I was just going to check on Esra before finding something else to keep me busy for a while, but the display in the living room sent blood roaring through my ears.

Not the way Richard stood on an old crate, towering above everyone.

Not the way Esra and Lucas stood in the center of the crowd, each of them gripping a bottle in one hand and a horn in the other.

But the way Esra had to tilt her head back, because Lucas’s white Kit Holliday hat had been crookedly shoved over her wavy hair.

I was across the room in an instant. I wasn’t thinking. Some sort of instinct took over as I stopped in front of Esra and grabbed the hat.

“Absolutely the fuck not,” I growled.

“What the hell? I’m winning the game.” She stuck her full bottom lip out in a pout, and I almost would have fallen for it and backed off if she hadn’t pronounced it win-nin-ing .

“You’re going home,” I told her and tossed the hat at Lucas. “Keep your fucking hat to yourself.”

“Dude, she took it.” He held his hands up in capitulation, but he was grinning widely.

I usually didn’t mind his antics, but fuck, I wanted to wipe that grin off his face right now.

Preferably with my fist. The urge was startling.

I didn’t lose my temper or get involved in drunken brawls.

I’d promised Sanny to get his little sister home safe.

That was all. And that certainly didn’t include Lucas .

“I need a hat ’cause I’m a cowgirl now,” Esra giggled, pulling my attention back to her, “yeehaw.”

“All right, cowgirl, do you know the hat rule?”

“Yes!” Her whole face lit up and she squeezed her red squeaker, back to trivia mode. “Don’t leave a hat on the bed because it’s bad luck.”

“No.” I curled my hand around hers, pressing another squeak from the horn. “You wear the hat, you ride the cowboy.”

“Oh.” She furrowed her brow as she looked back and forth between me and Lucas, processing that information. Leaning in conspiratorially, she whispered, “I didn’t know that.”

I shot Lucas a glare, because he sure as hell knew about it– as did everyone in this room– and he’d let her take the hat anyway. “Let’s go home before you get yourself into trouble.”

“No!” She wrenched her hand and the claxon out of my grip and glared up at me. “I’m winning.” Win-nin-ing.

This woman was going to be the death of me.

“Are you the only other person still playing?” I turned to Lucas, who nodded in response. “Do you forfeit?”

“Uh…” He must have realized how close he was to meeting my knuckles, because he tossed his squeaker to the ground and backed away. “I’m out.”

“There. You won,” I told Esra and turned to Richard. “What does she win?”

He wordlessly pulled a medal from his pocket. It was a plain purple ribbon with one of the star-shaped brAVE pin badges on it. Esra still squealed and dove for it with grabby hands. She draped it around her neck, smiling from ear to ear .

“Can we go now?” I asked.

“No. If you want me to go home with you , you have to pull an Ace Ryder and, like, abduct me because you are boor-ring and I’m having fun and so I’m not leaving with you.”

“Have it your way, princess.” I didn’t give her another chance to blow me off. I ducked, wrapped my hands around her waist like I’d done countless times before, and hoisted her over my shoulder.

Esra squealed and wriggled, her fist drumming into my shoulder twice, before she went slack and started giggling.

Behind me, the squeaker and a bottle of beer dropped to the ground.

Fully aware that I was causing a scene– and I didn’t cause scenes– I maneuvered us out of the room and out of the house without giving anyone another glance.

The second we hit fresh air, Esra started writhing again, but this time she broke into song.

She bellowed out ‘We Are the Champions’, off-key and off-beat, whipping her arms around and shimmying her hips.

Her bike shorts were made from a slippery, shiny fabric, so I wrapped my hands tighter around her thighs to keep her balanced.

“Will you hold still, before I drop you?”

“S’this your first kidnapping, cowboy?” she asked and added an extra wriggle to her hips, pushing them against my face.

“I’m not kidnapping you,” I grunted as I carried her up the few steps to our house.

She laughed and tugged on the backside of my shirt. “I feel kidnapped. And a li’l dizzy. Ew.”

“Don’t throw up.” I lowered her down until her feet were firmly planted on even ground and kept my hands on her waist just in case.

Esra blinked, eyes glassy and cheeks pink, clutching the doorframe. “I’m good.”

“Sure?”

“Water. I need lots of water. And aspirin. And…” She glanced down and wiggled her toes. “Might need help upstairs without tripping.”

“Okay. I can do that.”

Esra’s room was a mess, with only one clear path across the floor from the door to the bed.

I had to walk her in front of me, both hands around her middle for support, to get her safely to the mattress.

She grabbed the bottle of water from her nightstand and somehow managed to tip it back with enough swing to give herself a shower.

“Damn,” she muttered and patted at the spill on her tank top. I left her alone so she could change, while I grabbed a bottle of aspirin from the bathroom for her. When I came back, however, she was sitting in the exact same spot where I’d left her, still prodding her shirt.

“Are you wearing underwear?” I asked.

She pulled at the neck of her shirt and glanced down at herself. “Yep.”

I rubbed the bridge of my nose, swallowing the urge to ask what kind of person had to check to see if they were wearing underwear. Instead, I grabbed the large, tangled T-shirt from the corner of her bed and draped it out. “Okay, nothing I haven’t seen yet. Arms up.”

She followed my command without much protest and allowed me to peel her out of her top.

I pointedly kept my eyes on the purple cotton of her nightshirt as I pulled her arms through it, then carefully fit it over her head.

Her dark hair bounced out like loose springs.

She fished her trivia medal from the collar and smoothed a hand over it against her chest.

“Okay. You have water. You have aspirin. Anything else before you go to bed?”

“Pizza?” She fluttered her lashes at me, those big doe eyes growing to the size of saucers.

“Do you have any pizza?”

“No, but we can order some.”

“It’s past midnight on a Tuesday, princess, and this isn’t New York. Nobody’s delivering pizza anymore tonight.”

“Oh man,” she sighed, deflating, disappointment written all over her face.

“We’ll get you pizza tomorrow. Go to bed.”

“Ugh, fine.” She bent down to take her boots off.

Despite the rest of her outfit having changed, she was still in her costume boots.

They were comfortable, sure, because Renee knew we wouldn’t be able to do the show in ill-fitting shoes, but Esra didn’t strike me as a Western boot kind of girl.

Then again, she was a cowgirl now. Yeehaw.

“Good night,” I said on my way out the door.

Just before it closed, I heard her mumble, “Yeah, whatever, buzzkill sun.”

I grabbed myself an apple from the kitchen to get rid of the stale taste of fried potato chips, and then hit the shower, before heading to my room myself. I laid out my painting clothes for tomorrow, texted Sanny that Esra was home safe and sound, and then finally fell into bed.