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Rubin insisted that both Diego and Leila rest the entire next day. For the most part, he left them alone while he put away the rest of the supplies he’d brought to the cabin. He cooked meals for them, but most of his time was spent talking to his Jonquille. He stayed outside so he wouldn’t bother the two of them, decreeing they should sleep as much as possible. Diego had no dispute with that. His body wanted to shut down, craving sleep.

Leila stayed close to him, cuddling against him. She hadn’t seemed like a woman who would want to be cuddled or touched, but she leaned into Diego, and when he’d reach for her hand, which was nearly all the time, she readily threaded her fingers through his. She didn’t object when he fell asleep with one arm curved around her waist.

Diego had no idea what to think of the revelations his brother had given him. He respected Rubin and his opinions but didn’t think he could possibly be right. Rather than dwell on it, he chose to sleep. He would need to be at full strength to bring Grace home.

He woke to the smell of stew. He recognized that particular aroma instantly. Rubin was making a favorite meal. The smell of fresh-baked bread filled the house. Diego untangled himself from Leila as smoothly and as quietly as possible and went to join his brother in the kitchen.

Rubin sent him a quick grin over one shoulder. “Knew you’d smell stew and bread no matter how tired you were, and you’d get up. Thought I’d make something healthy for you.”

“Appreciate it.” Diego sank into a chair facing the kitchen to watch his brother very efficiently take down bowls from the cupboard and gather silverware. “Rubin, you just took out four bowls.”

“Yeah. We’ve got company.”

Diego frowned. He should have known immediately, the moment he opened his eyes, if someone was close. Rubin couldn’t be wrong. He was alert and, in Diego’s opinion, extremely savvy in the woods. He should know if someone was close. He froze. What was he thinking? He was a GhostWalker, capable of slipping in and out of houses, moving through forest or desert unseen, unheard, leaving no trace behind.

“Zeke is here.” He looked around the cabin, half expecting to find Ezekiel Fortunes lounging against the wall in plain sight, yet no one would see him.

Ezekiel was a big man, spoke rarely, but he didn’t need to. He sometimes had extremely light amber-colored eyes, cool, like a fine whiskey. Other times his eyes could darken into an old gold, devoid of feeling. He was street-smart and had kept his two beloved brothers, Mordichai and Malichai, alive in harsh conditions that would have eaten them alive when they were just little boys living on the streets.

Zeke had saved Diego and Rubin from most likely going to jail. They didn’t allow anyone to take their things or put their hands on them. The two boys had a tendency to permanently end any enemies, something police frowned on. They had hopped a train and ended up in the same city, looking for work and desperate for food. Surviving in the city wasn’t the same thing as living off the land. Ezekiel found them, took them in and treated them as brothers.

“Where is he?” Diego asked Rubin. “It has to be Ezekiel. How did he know something was wrong?”

“I texted him. You know Ezekiel. If he found out through the grapevine that you had a woman and she was in jeopardy, he might cut our throats. I thought it best to keep him informed.”

“Like you should have done, Diego.”

The voice came from behind him. Low. Intense. That was Ezekiel. Diego turned in his chair to regard the man who was lounging against the doorjamb leading to the bedroom. He’d clearly already been inside the room. Diego was furious with himself because that meant Leila had been vulnerable in her sleep. Not that Zeke would harm her, not in a million years.

Ezekiel was a big man with heavy muscle throughout his chest and arms. His hair was black and always a bit on the wild side. He rarely trimmed it, so it fell in an unruly manner around his head. One would have thought it might soften his appearance, but there was nothing soft about Ezekiel.

“You’re right, Zeke,” Diego affirmed instantly. “I should have texted you.”

“You didn’t text me,” Rubin pointed out. He brought his brother a bowl of stew and placed a plate of bread on the table to one side of him.

“I didn’t have to text you,” Diego said, leveling his gaze on his brother. “Don’t try to sound hurt. You always know what’s going on with me.”

“Maybe so.” Rubin sounded pious. “But it would be nice to get a text.”

“Dang it, Rubin, you aren’t fit for shootin’ since you got married,” Diego informed his brother. “Your feelings are hurt over every little thing.”

“You saying I’m too sensitive?” Rubin demanded.

“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”

“He’s not fit for shootin’?” Ezekiel echoed. “Is that a thing?”

He made his way to the kitchen, not making a single sound, boots whispering across the floor. For such a big man, it was an incredible feat. Diego had always admired the easy way he moved, so fluid. He was a first-class fighter, his skills honed on the streets. He’d certainly been instrumental in teaching both Rubin and Diego how to fight.

“Fair” wasn’t a word used in a fight. Someone came for you, someone put their hands on you or yours, all bets were off. Ezekiel taught them to strike hard and fast, making it count immediately. He believed in ending a fight before it had a chance to begin.

“It’s a thing,” Diego confirmed. “Where’s Bellisia?”

Bellisia was Ezekiel’s wife. One was never far from the other. She was a tiny little thing, lethal as hell in the water.

“If we’re going to war, and it looks that way, she’s staying back with Nonny and all the kids to help protect them.” As always, Ezekiel spoke matter-of-factly. Accepting the bowl of stew, he sprawled out in the chair across from Diego.

“You came because you think we’re going to war?” Diego asked.

Ezekiel waved his spoon around. “You claimed a woman, and from what I understand—and I’ll admit, I don’t know the entire story yet—her commander is going to insist she go back to them.”

Diego filled him in on Leila’s history. “She isn’t really under Chariot’s command because she never legally joined the service.”

“It wouldn’t matter,” Ezekiel said. “She’s a GhostWalker if she’s yours. That makes her ours.” He shrugged as he took a bite of stew. “You’re not in this fight alone, Diego.”

“Thanks, Ezekiel.” Diego was surprised at how surprised and grateful he was that Ezekiel felt so strongly about backing him up. He wasn’t used to relying on others, not even his fellow GhostWalkers. He tended to be the one they relied on for backup.

“You’re not just a GhostWalker, Diego,” Ezekiel said. “You’re family.”

That hit him hard. Zeke had always treated Rubin and him as family. Sometimes, most times, that wasn’t a good thing. Ezekiel was exacting about everything. Education. Training. Code of honor. He backed up his edicts with his fists. If you didn’t want a lesson in hand-to-hand combat or street fighting, you toed the line.

“Leila has a daughter, Grace. And a sister, Bridget. Even if they release Leila to us, we’re still going to have to fight for the baby. If Luther hasn’t managed to get Bridget back, she’s most likely with Whitney. So it won’t end with keeping Leila and getting Grace.” Diego gave the warning.

Who is this man? Are you safe?

Ezekiel lifted his head, his peculiar-colored eyes giving Diego his penetrating stare. It was never easy to take the man’s intense look. Diego always had the feeling he could see right through a man. In his case, he had a lot to hide.

He’s family. Big brother, adopted, so to speak. Don’t get out of bed and crawl out here with a gun. Ezekiel is most likely not alone.

Ezekiel wouldn’t be happy that he wasn’t being given important information, such as Diego being capable of psychic surgery. Diego had no intention of living his life the way his brother had to live—with guards around him nearly all the time. If Diego was being strictly honest, he was responsible for the intensity with which the other members of their unit watched over Rubin. Diego had used his voice to influence them every chance he got.

“Do you think that matters, Diego? I’ve got your back. The boys have your back. The rest of the team does. If I’m not mistaken, the other GhostWalker teams will say the same thing. We’ve all reached the point, between Whitney sending his soldiers to test us and trying to take our women and children from us, as well as our enemies in the White House, that everyone is fed up. We’ve established fortresses and escape routes. We have private satellites and our own helicopters and planes. We have more weapons than we know what to do with. Mostly, we have the ability to disappear. The faction in the government wanting us dead believes we’re too big of a threat to them—and we are. We just haven’t shown we’re willing to fight back.”

Diego thought about Ezekiel’s assessment of the situation. The GhostWalkers would stand together, but the circumstances were explosive any way one looked at it.

I don’t feel anyone else in the house.

Leila was being extra careful not to allow Rubin to hear the communication between her and Diego. He found having her make that effort felt all the more intimate between them.

Someone else is here, more than likely two more. Diego hadn’t bothered to search for Ezekiel’s two birth brothers, but if Ezekiel had felt it necessary to come to Diego’s aid, his younger brothers would as well. They were tight-knit.

“Rubin believes we should try a diplomatic approach,” he ventured aloud to Ezekiel.

Ezekiel shrugged. “There’s always that. I’m sure when Joe hears what’s going on, he’ll want to pursue that avenue.”

As usual, it was impossible to read Ezekiel’s expressionless mask or his lack of tone. Diego could never tell if Zeke agreed with Joe or not. He rarely went against him; only Trap, their resident genius, on-the-spectrum billionaire—and he was probably certifiable—clashed on a regular basis with Joe. And everyone else if he bothered to speak at all. Which, most of the time, he didn’t. Trap was more like a mad scientist, but he always got the job done. Always.

“I just think it’s about time we assert ourselves,” Rubin said. “I’ve had a few conversations with Joe. He’s of the same mind.”

“I thought the idea was to fly under the radar,” Diego said.

“As if the massacre that took place on this mountain wouldn’t be noticed,” Rubin said, an edge to his voice. “You risked your life, Diego, and you had no business doing it.” The floor trembled, and for a moment, the walls seemed to expand and contract.

Ezekiel turned his cool, penetrating gaze first on Rubin and then on Diego with far too much speculation. “Seems to me, Rubin, you’re a bit upset at Diego. At first glance, it doesn’t make sense, not when he was defending his woman. You have a closer call than it appears, Diego? You hurt and haven’t said anything?”

A direct question from Ezekiel. He was family. He’d saved their lives numerous times. Diego felt intensely loyal to Ezekiel, but more than that, he respected him. Just the fact that he asked Diego, not Rubin, made Diego admire him all the more. He wasn’t putting Rubin in the position of having to choose between snitching on Diego or lying to Ezekiel.

“Had a couple of minor wounds, but nothing I couldn’t handle,” Diego said.

The floor trembled again, and the walls contracted. He was pissing off Rubin again. He knew his brother’s anger wasn’t about the couple of near misses. It was the fact that he’d risked his life when he had such a rare and valuable gift. Diego had always insisted Rubin be guarded, to the point that Rubin rebelled. All that time, Diego had known he was capable of psychic surgery, but he hadn’t volunteered the information, and worse, he’d put himself in dangerous situations time after time.

He has the right to be angry with you, Diego , Leila said. The feel of her was gentle in his mind. Not accusing, simply pointing out that he hadn’t been fair to his brother.

I’m aware. Rubin deserved better. He couldn’t bring his mind to believe the things his brother had said to him. No matter how long he contemplated Rubin’s declaration, his mind rejected every word.

“You have something you need to tell me, Diego?” Ezekiel didn’t take those amber-colored eyes from Diego’s face.

Rubin’s voice always got lower, softer, when he was at his most lethal. Ezekiel’s soft voice developed a low growl in it. That alone could shake a grown man.

He can reduce me to a fourteen-year-old , he explained to Leila. That voice and that stare of his used to not only keep us safe from outsiders trying to mess with us, but it heralded a beatdown because we’d screwed up.

Diego had a sense of humor about it. He was grown. A lethal predator, and yet there he was, with his two older brothers trying to reduce him to a kid again—and succeeding.

Actually, you haven’t caved, Diego. They might be attempting to intimidate you into revealing things you would rather not, but they haven’t succeeded.

Ezekiel didn’t let up for a moment. Those strangely colored eyes never left Diego’s.

I think he’s attempting to melt off your face , Leila whispered into his mind.

Diego had to work to keep from laughing. That wouldn’t do at all in the face of Ezekiel’s clear threat.

The door leading from the mudroom banged loudly, and a man sauntered in, his arms filled with canvas bags Diego recognized as the ones Wyatt Fontenot’s grandmother, Nonny, used. Instantly, the familiar aroma of Cajun fare filled the house.

Mordichai Fortunes turned his head directly toward Diego as he moved past him to enter the space that was the kitchen. Their eyes met, and Mordichai winked at him. It was all Diego could do not to burst into laughter.

Who is that?

Mordichai, one of Ezekiel’s brothers. He just saved my ass from his brother’s wrath, just the way we used to when we were kids. We would divert Ezekiel’s attention with distraction.

So he heard the entire conversation? Is that what you’re saying?

Yep, he was somewhere in the house. His brother Malichai is bound to be around as well.

Rubin was on his feet, following Mordichai into the kitchen. “What did you bring?”

“Nonny worried I’d starve,” Mordichai announced. “She sent everything you can imagine.”

Malichai and Mordichai are always starving , Diego told Leila. Mordichai still puts away the food. Nothing is safe around him. We all give him a hard time. And he doesn’t have an ounce of fat on him. How he manages that, I have no idea.

Mordichai was an inch shorter than Ezekiel, had extremely thick dark hair and the same golden eyes as his older brother. That trait ran in the family. He was very muscular, his arms and chest carrying heavy muscle, tapering to narrow hips and strong legs. Mordichai was the Fortunes brother who smiled the most and had a great sense of humor. The problem was, when he smiled, he showed his perfect teeth, but the smile had never once, that Diego could remember, reached his eyes.

Over the years, Diego and Rubin had noticed that Ezekiel took more care in how he spoke to Mordichai. And Nonny, who was welcoming and good to all of them, seemed to take special care with Mordichai. Diego was extremely fond of the man, but that didn’t mean he knew him. Mordichai had his secrets, just like they all did.

“I’m sure Nonny meant for you to share,” Rubin said. “She wouldn’t have sent so much if she didn’t.”

Mordichai pulled the various containers out of the canvas bags to set them on the counter. There were so many there was barely room. He peered into the pot of stew Rubin had on the stove. “Did you make this, Rubin? It smells good.” He reached for the freshly baked bread.

Rubin glared at him. “You don’t get anything if you don’t share.”

“You wouldn’t want me faintin’ from hunger. I think my blood sugar drops fast if I don’t eat all the time. You know that, Rubin.”

Ezekiel heaved a sigh. “All you think about is food.” He sounded resigned.

Leila’s soft laughter moved through Diego’s mind. You all are definitely family. Rubin has forgotten all about being mad at you, and Ezekiel is totally distracted by his brother’s appearance.

Diego was caught by Mordichai’s playful statement. It wasn’t the first time he’d cracked jokes about low blood sugar. Was it possible Mordichai was diabetic? Diego glanced at Ezekiel. He would know. And diabetics couldn’t serve in the military if they were diagnosed before joining.

Diego reached back into his memories of the boys growing up on the streets. There was never enough food to eat. Never. They were always hungry. He recalled Mordichai curled up on a mat in the tunnels beneath the city, beads of sweat covering his body. Shaking. Eyes unfocused. It had happened on more than one occasion. Often, he would limp, fall behind the others, even though he was tough as nails. It would happen unexpectedly, without any warning. Ezekiel would leave for a time, commanding the others to look after Mordichai. When he returned, he would give his younger brother medication.

Rubin, is it possible that Mordichai is diabetic?

It seemed impossible that they wouldn’t have known. They were all doctors. It had taken longer for some to complete their studies. Mordichai had taken his sweet time, but in the end, he became a doctor just as the others in their unit had. Diego couldn’t fault him; he hadn’t been eager to complete his studies either. He wasn’t a man to stay indoors the way he needed to when studying and completing his residency.

Rubin’s assessing gaze slid over Mordichai. The man looked fitter than any of them. He ran daily. He boxed, did martial arts, several different practices. He wielded weapons like a master. One would never look at him and think he had a physical ailment of any kind.

Not diabetes.

Diego trusted Rubin’s assessment. Rubin might say, and even believe, that Diego had the same gifts, but Diego had been watching Rubin save lives for years. He knew how powerful Rubin’s gift of healing was. It had started when they were children, that need Rubin had to help anyone sick. Diego hadn’t had the same need.

There was a time when they had come across one of their neighbors. He lived miles away and was as mean as a snake, not only to outsiders but to his wife and children. Old man Kingsley had been out hunting, and he’d fallen down a rocky ravine. The two boys were barely twelve, but when they spotted the tracks of a man weaving and tripping, they followed.

It was clear Kingsley had been drinking, which wasn’t unusual. Each time they’d come across him, he was drunk and belligerent, even at church. Diego wanted to leave him to his fate. He had no compulsion to climb down the steep ravine, which was a very dangerous climb, and see to the man’s injuries. As far as he was concerned, Kingsley had gotten what he deserved. So many times, his wife and children had visible injuries on them.

Rubin had been adamant that they get down to the man and help him. Even then, Diego had realized his brother didn’t have much of a choice. The compulsion to heal was so strong he couldn’t walk away. Having many of those experiences with his brother gave him the insight that Rubin truly was different from him—and so was that well of healing energy inside him.

He knew his mother had influenced him to believe that anything he was able to do came from something dark and ugly, and everything Rubin did came from a pure place. He’d always thought of the two of them as light and dark, opposites.

Dang it, Diego. Rubin’s ire filled his mind. You persist in thinking you have something evil in you.

Just memories coming up, Rubin. Trying to get past them. I know something is off about Mordichai. I’ve always known it, but I can’t figure it out. That’s unlike me. He wasn’t above distracting his brother. And he really was concerned. He always had been. Mordichai had been a good kid and was an even better man.

Rubin moved up next to Mordichai, deliberately bumping him with his hip. “Don’t you touch that stew if you’re not sharing Nonny’s food.”

Mordichai heaved a pretend sigh of resignation. “Fine, I’ll share.” He slathered more butter onto the bread and stuffed nearly the entire thing into his mouth.

Rubin shifted his weight onto one leg, turning fully toward Mordichai. Rubin had seen him use that particular maneuver to place his body wholly toward a potential patient. It gave him more of an ability to assess any illnesses.

“Try to show some restraint,” Ezekiel said. “You won’t get me to believe Nonny didn’t pack a lunch for you to drive up here with.”

“Had to share with Malichai. You never get annoyed when he’s eating all the food.”

It didn’t surprise Diego in the least to confirm that Malichai was somewhere in the house. Of course he was. He would feel the same way as Ezekiel and Mordichai. They were a family, and if there was trouble, they showed up. That was their code.

“There isn’t enough stew for the two of us,” Mordichai pointed out. “And as usual, he’s taking a nap.”

I take it Malichai is another brother , Leila asked.

Malichai is the youngest brother. He is married to Amaryllis, and just so you’re aware, he lost his leg after an assignment. He’s handled it well, and of course the government didn’t want to lose him as an asset, so they’ve provided the best prosthetic available.

How terrible for him. His wife stuck by him, I hope.

She did. She’s good for him. You’ll like Malichai. When you meet him, you can feel what kind of man he is , Diego assured. Because he was in her mind, he felt her uneasiness with so many strangers close to her when she was still so vulnerable.

Rubin dished up the last of the stew and handed the bowl to Mordichai. “I always said you were the spoiled one.”

He has some kind of shield, Diego. He masks the illness, but there is one. Not diabetes, but he’s autoimmune.

How did he pass the strict physical requirements in order to join the GhostWalkers? And why would Whitney enhance him, knowing he was autoimmune? With his supersoldiers, Whitney doesn’t expect them to live long, and he doesn’t care what shape they’re in, physically or mentally, but he does with the GhostWalkers. He prides himself on the teams and what they can accomplish. Why would he enhance Mordichai?

Rubin didn’t have an answer. Leila did. One of his gifts is masking. If Rubin is a powerful healer and can’t find what’s wrong with him, a man like Whitney, with no ability, might miss it.

How? Rubin asked. He has to run tests the entire time he’s working with a patient. Blood tests, you name it. It would show up if he was autoimmune.

They fell silent, each of them puzzling how Mordichai could have gotten into the GhostWalker program.

My best guess would be that someone found a way to alter the results of the lab tests. That was Leila.

That made more sense to Diego than any other answer. He glanced at Ezekiel. He would keep his family together at any cost. He’d never leave Mordichai behind. Ezekiel had been enhanced before any of them. He was an amazing doctor, and he would know exactly how to alter lab results.

Leila might be on to something , Diego told Rubin.

Ezekiel is capable , Rubin agreed.

“You know I’m just giving you a hard time,” Mordichai said as he sank onto the floor, back to the wall, the bowl of stew in his hand. “Nonny sent enough food for an army. I’m not the only one bringing it in. Draden is outside setting up a camp. We knew the cabin would be too small for all of us. We’re setting up a perimeter for safety. They’ll bring the supplies and more of Nonny’s food in as soon as they have the tents set up.”

When you meet Draden Freeman for the first time, there is no fainting. No flirting. In fact, don’t even look at him.

Why would you say that? Is something wrong with him?

Rubin gave a little snort of derision. Diego ignored him and continued. He’s a pretty boy. Used to be a model. Just to tell you, looks aren’t everything. The man can be moody as hell. I don’t think he sleeps. He runs all the time, and you know anyone who runs isn’t running on all cylinders.

Leila gave him her little laugh, the one that sent heat rushing through his entire system. Diego’s eyes met Rubin’s. His brother was smiling too. That was the effect that soft sound had on them. There had been too little laughter in their lives, not the real kind, and Leila had a way about her that made little things humorous.

Don’t listen to him, Leila , Rubin said. Draden was one of those really big deals in the modeling world, that much is true.

What isn’t true? He runs like a maniac, is moody, doesn’t like talking much, and, Leila, just so you’re warned, his wife is a straight-up assassin.

That produced another fresh round of laughter. What am I, you goof?

Rubin burst out laughing. Ezekiel and Mordichai both looked at him expectantly. Rubin flashed a grin. “Can’t help it. Leila just called Diego a goof. What could be more appropriate?”

“I’m so glad you’re getting a kick out of our conversation,” Diego groused.

“There are far worse things for a woman to be calling a man,” Mordichai said very solemnly. “I ought to know.”

“Women call you names?” Rubin asked.

“Does that shock you?” Ezekiel asked. “He’s still writing his ridiculous profile for a dating app he saw. He’s been working on it for a year, and he has three lines.”

“You can’t hurry these things,” Mordichai said to Diego. “That poor woman of yours most likely feels you knocked her over the head with a club like in the old days.”

“It’s called sweeping her off her feet,” Diego corrected.

“Actually,” Rubin corrected helpfully, “she was shot and couldn’t go anywhere. He had a captive audience and pretended to be a white knight.”

“You took advantage of that woman,” Mordichai said. “That’s not right. You should have spent time courting her.”

“I did spend time courting her,” Diego defended. “I just didn’t wait a year writing poetry on paper and never sending it.”

Mordichai shook his head mournfully. “If you want a woman to stay, Diego, you’re going to have to do more than dazzle her while she’s bedridden.”

“Since when are you the leading expert on courting women, Mordichai?” Ezekiel asked.

“I read books. You can learn a lot from books.”

“I caught him reading romances,” Gino Mazza announced as he entered the kitchen carrying canvas totes filled with more food. He put the bags on the counter and in the sink since there was little room left. “He has an entire library of romances.”

Ezekiel raised an eyebrow. “That true, Mordichai?”

“Absolutely. And keep it up, Gino. I’ll kick your ass.”

“Just letting the others know you are the leading authority for a reason. Not sure if it’s a good reason, but you still have one when the rest of us don’t.”

That man might have a few brains , Leila said. Who is he?

Gino is difficult to explain. Hard as nails. Only looks at one woman, his wife, Zara Hightower. He’s an elite tracker, a hell of a doctor and impossible to spot when he doesn’t want to be seen.

You admire him.

Diego hadn’t thought much about admiring Gino, but “respect” was a good word to characterize how he felt about Gino. Gino was the man he would most like to have with him if they were facing a large number of enemies in difficult terrain. He was that good and that dependable.

You think he’s the most like you out of all the men in your unit , Leila observed.

Diego frowned. Did he think he was like Gino? Gino didn’t bother to hide his dark side from them. Before joining the military and the GhostWalker program, he had worked for Joe Spagnola’s father, a man with a history of violent criminal activity. Joe was their commanding officer and leader of their team. He had helped save Gino’s life when his family had been murdered. His family had taken Gino in, and from that moment, Gino looked after Joe in the same way Diego looked after Rubin.

To the outside world, Diego appeared to be the easygoing Campos brother. He took care of talking with others, whereas Rubin was more reserved. He had developed that persona, one that seemed outgoing and calm. One that did the necessary paperwork. He faded into the background easily, yet took center stage to divert attention from his brother. He wasn’t any of those things. He was as dark as Gino. As willing to be violent as Gino. Now that Leila had pointed it out to him, he was much more like Gino than any of the others.

Maybe Ezekiel , Rubin said. He has that same power in him that I feel in you and Gino. You persist in believing it’s a bad thing. The three of you have done more good with your abilities than all the rest of us.

That was definitely not true, but it was nice that his brother thought that. Diego felt he was learning quite a bit about himself and relationships. He just had to take it in. Accept that the things he’d believed about himself weren’t necessarily true. Or at least try to view them in a different light.

“Are you really reading romance books?” Ezekiel asked his brother.

“Bellisia and Zara told me it was the best way to learn about women,” Mordichai stated in between bites of stew. “So, Zeke, you want to make fun of me, I’ll just let your wife know how you feel about her giving me advice.”

Leila’s laughter moved through Diego’s mind. Your friends are a little insane.

They’ll go on like this for hours.