shouted from behind them. "Let him go!"
Damn, he'd forgotten the girl. Chase looked over his shoulder and saw her standing in a batting stance, ready to let loose with the cast iron fireplace poker. She didn't look scared. She looked determined. Fierce, intent on protecting her man.
Chase raised his hands in surrender, rolled off Jay. The girl didn't take her eyes from him or relax her stance as Jay got to his feet. Chase almost smiled. Looked like the kid found himself a winner. Despite her punk rocker purple hair.
She was maybe five-six, thin but not too skinny. Her jacket was open, and he could see the outline of her small breasts beneath a form fitting black leather vest that revealed her pierced navel. Swirls of color from a tattoo danced over the bare flesh of her abdomen. He made out several round yin/yang symbols and what looked like a claw. The rest disappeared beneath the waistband of her jeans.
Chase pushed away his surprising swell of desire. She was Jay's for one thing. Hell, he didn't even know her name.
So why did he feel like he knew her? Really knew her—even though they'd never met before. He remembered to breathe and realized it was all just wistful thinking. He'd dreamed of having a woman look at him, stand with him like that.
But she was Jay's. Off limits. Especially to the disgraced big brother.
"It's okay, KC," Jay told her, taking the poker from her hand. "He's my brother."
Chase had no idea what to make of the look of astonished confusion that crossed the girl's face in response to Jay's introduction.
KC stared down at Charles Westin. This lunatic with the scraggly hair and day-old beard was Jay's brother? She'd read the file, knew Charles' colorful, disreputable background. Jay had assured her Big Bro was out of the picture; that he hadn't spoken to him since his court martial and incarceration at Leavenworth.
She looked from one brother to the other. Two sets of dark blue eyes blazed with anger. Hell's bells—this was gonna throw a monkey in the works. She had to stay in character, couldn't trust this lowlife loser with the truth.
"This is Charles?" she asked, edging closer to Jay and wrapping her arm around his waist as if seeking his protection.
She listened carefully, scanned the hallway. The house appeared empty except for them. At least Big Bro hadn't brought any dipshit, ex-con friends home with him. The guy had picked the worst time in the world to play prodigal son.
Charles rolled to his feet without using his hands, and KC caught a glimpse of the silhouette of a semi-automatic snugged in his waistband at the small of his back. Damn, just what she didn't need. She slid her right hand inside her jacket, hugging herself as if she were cold, the familiar grip of her Glock in its hidden holster comforting.
"Don't worry, I don't bite. And it's Chase, please."
KC said nothing, watched as he hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his ripped jeans and rocked on the balls of his feet.
"Nice to see you, kid," Chase continued.
Jay tensed, his grip on the poker went white knuckled. "I knew it," he said, his voice sounding tight. "I knew you'd come back to screw up my life. Is this gonna be an annual event? The ghost of Christmas past returning to make my life hell?"
Chase stopped rocking, his face stony as he stared at his brother. "That's not why I came back."
KC heard the regret in his voice and wondered if Jay noticed it as well.
"Fine," Jay said bitterly. "Whatever. I don't really give a damn, 'cause tomorrow we're out of here. Take the house, it's half yours anyway."
"What do you mean you're out of here?" Chase demanded. "What about school? What about going to college—becoming a doctor?"
Jay shook his head in a tight arc. "I'm done with school—as if you cared."
"You can't just drop out—"
"If it's any of your business, I didn't." Jay leaned forward
Damn, he'd forgotten the girl. Chase looked over his shoulder and saw her standing in a batting stance, ready to let loose with the cast iron fireplace poker. She didn't look scared. She looked determined. Fierce, intent on protecting her man.
Chase raised his hands in surrender, rolled off Jay. The girl didn't take her eyes from him or relax her stance as Jay got to his feet. Chase almost smiled. Looked like the kid found himself a winner. Despite her punk rocker purple hair.
She was maybe five-six, thin but not too skinny. Her jacket was open, and he could see the outline of her small breasts beneath a form fitting black leather vest that revealed her pierced navel. Swirls of color from a tattoo danced over the bare flesh of her abdomen. He made out several round yin/yang symbols and what looked like a claw. The rest disappeared beneath the waistband of her jeans.
Chase pushed away his surprising swell of desire. She was Jay's for one thing. Hell, he didn't even know her name.
So why did he feel like he knew her? Really knew her—even though they'd never met before. He remembered to breathe and realized it was all just wistful thinking. He'd dreamed of having a woman look at him, stand with him like that.
But she was Jay's. Off limits. Especially to the disgraced big brother.
"It's okay, KC," Jay told her, taking the poker from her hand. "He's my brother."
Chase had no idea what to make of the look of astonished confusion that crossed the girl's face in response to Jay's introduction.
KC stared down at Charles Westin. This lunatic with the scraggly hair and day-old beard was Jay's brother? She'd read the file, knew Charles' colorful, disreputable background. Jay had assured her Big Bro was out of the picture; that he hadn't spoken to him since his court martial and incarceration at Leavenworth.
She looked from one brother to the other. Two sets of dark blue eyes blazed with anger. Hell's bells—this was gonna throw a monkey in the works. She had to stay in character, couldn't trust this lowlife loser with the truth.
"This is Charles?" she asked, edging closer to Jay and wrapping her arm around his waist as if seeking his protection.
She listened carefully, scanned the hallway. The house appeared empty except for them. At least Big Bro hadn't brought any dipshit, ex-con friends home with him. The guy had picked the worst time in the world to play prodigal son.
Charles rolled to his feet without using his hands, and KC caught a glimpse of the silhouette of a semi-automatic snugged in his waistband at the small of his back. Damn, just what she didn't need. She slid her right hand inside her jacket, hugging herself as if she were cold, the familiar grip of her Glock in its hidden holster comforting.
"Don't worry, I don't bite. And it's Chase, please."
KC said nothing, watched as he hooked his thumbs in the belt loops of his ripped jeans and rocked on the balls of his feet.
"Nice to see you, kid," Chase continued.
Jay tensed, his grip on the poker went white knuckled. "I knew it," he said, his voice sounding tight. "I knew you'd come back to screw up my life. Is this gonna be an annual event? The ghost of Christmas past returning to make my life hell?"
Chase stopped rocking, his face stony as he stared at his brother. "That's not why I came back."
KC heard the regret in his voice and wondered if Jay noticed it as well.
"Fine," Jay said bitterly. "Whatever. I don't really give a damn, 'cause tomorrow we're out of here. Take the house, it's half yours anyway."
"What do you mean you're out of here?" Chase demanded. "What about school? What about going to college—becoming a doctor?"
Jay shook his head in a tight arc. "I'm done with school—as if you cared."
"You can't just drop out—"
"If it's any of your business, I didn't." Jay leaned forward
Similar Books
