Five Brothers
: Chapter 24

Army’s going to want her back. He’s been quiet about her sleeping in my room because he knows something’s going on with me, but he still wants her. He makes sure I see every time she lets him touch her.

I blow out a breath, bowing my head under the hot spray of the shower. The scent of the candle burning on the sink fills the bathroom, mixing with magnolias breezing in through the window above my head. An image of me racing my first motorcycle down the coast hits me, the sun shining on my face. Girls in swimsuits on the beach. A red sail far out on the water.

I forgot about that.

The scent reminds me of it, though. I’m not sure why.

That was a good day. I was seventeen, I think. Freedom.

Krisjen says she just likes firelight, but I know something that smells like eucalyptus is something people use for stress, and she’s doing it for my benefit. She burns other things that smell like spearmint and citrus, and she plays music a lot and keeps the windows open, so fresh air can travel through the house. Aromatherapy bullshit like it’s going to fix me, but …

It stirs up memories, all of them nice. At any moment, I feel twelve, sneaking out with Army and Iron to climb trees at midnight.

And the house does feel better. It breathes again. I like coming home, and even my brothers seem happier. They’re taking care of shit—Trace finally put the lawn mower away—but I don’t know if I’m happy that they’re stepping up. They’re doing it because they’re worried about me.

I don’t want them to act like I’m not strong.

I inhale the scent, drawing it in again and again, the memory of that day in the sun, next to the sea as I raced through the wind. A great summer day.

Fisting the shower handle, I brace myself, jerking it right. I hold my breath as it only takes about two seconds for the water to go from hot to cold. Forcing my neck under the spray, I let the icy water coat my back, and then I raise my head, dousing my face. I exhale, my head clearing. Jesus, that helps. I do it every shower now.

She’s smart. And yeah, I like her ridiculous candles.

I plant my hands on the wall, letting the water spill down my chest. I like her girly music, and how she sings to Dex, and the way her body looks in my sweatpants. And how her feet were curled into mine when I woke up this morning.

I look down, seeing my dick hard.

I slam my hand down on the handle, cutting off the water and grabbing my towel. Quickly drying, I dress, pulling on jeans and taking out a T-shirt. I swing it over my shoulder as I dry off my hair. Crossing the room, I stop and look at the bed, sheets crumpled and the dent of our heads still in the pillows.

I hesitate for only a moment. Walking over, I pull up the bedding, smoothing it out, and fluff the pillows. It’s not military-style, but it’s better than yesterday.

I draw in a deep breath. Okay.

Heading downstairs, I stop about halfway, looking around and listening. The house is silent.

There’s nothing.

I keep walking, checking the grandfather clock in the foyer as I pass. Ten after seven.

They’re not usually gone yet.

I step into the kitchen, seeing Krisjen pull a pan out of the oven.

The hair on my arms rises, and I’m not sure if it’s because it smells like steak, or because I’m looking at her.

She smiles at me and takes the tongs, placing a rib eye on a plate.

I pour a cup of coffee. “Where is everybody?”

She sighs. “They were rushing off when I got up,” she tells me.

“It’s supposed to rain later, so they wanted to get all the jobs done before it starts.”

They wanted to get all the jobs done …

Jesus fucking Christ. Are they all trying to make me proud or something?

She hands me the plate, and I look down at it, replying, “I’m not …”

But then I stop, shutting my mouth. Staring at the meat and the juices pooling around it, I force myself to let go. To follow her lead.

“Thank you,” I whisper.

She says nothing, simply turning back to the dishes, and I take my food to the table, sitting down as she sets a knife and fork next to the plate.

I stick the steak with my fork, my stomach grumbling at the feel of how tender the meat is. My mouth waters.

I take a bite, the taste and the char making me nearly fucking groan. Jesus. I hurry, slicing into the meat again as I chew and swallow the first bite.

She sets down a glass in front of me, starting to walk away, but I call her back. “Can you put it in a coffee cup or something? I can’t have people seeing me drink a pink smoothie.”

She snorts, trying to contain her laughter as she picks up the glass and carries it back to the kitchen. Digging out a mug, she transfers the fruity drink.

I take another bite and stuff in another, while she disappears into the pantry. I gulp down half the smoothie, the breeze blowing the curtains at my side.

I take another bite, looking up to see Army half-dressed and frozen in the entryway between the kitchen and the living room.

I swallow. “You’re still here?”

He opens his mouth, then closes it, glancing toward the pantry as Krisjen sifts through cans and boxes.

“I’m going in a few,” he says.

I cut the last piece of meat, the pulse in my neck throbbing. He was hoping to find her alone. She doesn’t work today, so he stayed behind to get laid.

“I thought you were heading to the marina,” he says.

“I am.”

Krisjen strolls out, carrying a few cans and setting them on the counter. “Hey,” she singsongs to Army.

He looks at her.

I look at him.

He looks at me.

She dives back into the pantry, and I swallow my last bite.

“She’s coming with me today,” I say without thinking. “Ames will like something pretty to look at.”

I rise, taking my plate to the sink, and then pick up the drink. I don’t want her home without me, and I don’t have time to ponder why. I’ll think about it later.

I head over to him. “Did you eat?” I ask.

He shakes his head.

I hand him the smoothie. “Finish this. She’s sneaking kale in there or some shit and thinks I don’t notice.”

He takes it, the whisper of a smile crossing his lips.

He should fight me for her attention. He has every right, but I’m glad he almost never pushes back. There was a time that lasted far longer than it should when I just needed one person who did what I told them to do. One person I knew would get it done.

Army is the longest relationship I’ve ever had. And I know I owe him.

I’ll give her back tomorrow. Just one more night.

I pull on my T-shirt, grab my keys, and walk into the garage, yanking the canvas off my motorcycle.

Two hours later, we’re cruising up to the marina.

She pulls off her helmet and throws her head back, her hair flying over her shoulders like a blanket. With a huge-ass smile on her face, she giggles. “I’ve always wanted to do that.”

I don’t react, but inside, I’m smiling more than I want to admit. She’s so innocent. In a way that’s sweet, pure, and endearing, and for some reason, a little annoying, too. I wish anything made me as happy as she is reenacting a shampoo commercial.

I take her helmet, hang it on the handlebar, and unzip my leather jacket. “We probably have enough spare parts to make another bike,” I say. “If you want to learn how to drive.”

“No,” she replies right away, walking around the motorcycle to me. “I like riding with you.”

I clench my jaw, trying to shield the way I suddenly can’t breathe. She stands at my side, wearing a short, tight white dress, held up with one strap over her left shoulder, the other bare, and her lips painted pink.

She clutches the inside of my upper arm and looks at me. I ache everywhere.

I lead her down the dock, fishing boats rocking and yachts anchored in the distance. Light dims as a cloud passes in front of the sun, and I see Garrett Ames step off the deck of his fifty-seven-foot motor yacht, walking toward us as he slips his cell phone into his breast pocket.

“I honestly expected the other one,” he says. “Army, was it?”

His blue eyes gleam like I’m so amusing.

“Ms. Conroy.” He turns his attention to Krisjen. “You’ve grown up.”

He looks her up and down, and I take her hand off my arm and put it in my hand instead.

Jerome Watson walks up behind him, and I feel Krisjen’s fingers tighten around mine.

“We should sit down,” Ames says, gesturing to the restaurant up the stairs. Diners sit around walls of windows at tables with linen that make me uncomfortable.

“No,” I reply.

Ames studies me. “It looks suspicious, meeting on the docks and all.”

“My boat.” I point to the forty-four-foot cabin cruiser to the right. “Nothing to brag about, but we could motor out a little. Away from eyes.”

“So they can find my body washed up on shore in a week?” he fires back.

I cock my head. “I didn’t come here with an army. Just one little girl.”

I know she’s far from that, but Garrett Ames thinks all women are deaf, dumb, and blind. Pretty sure that she’s of no consequence to him.

But still, Krisjen teases, “Are you saying I don’t know how to handle a single guy? I can handle lots of guys.”

I laugh, surprising myself. Jerome’s gaze darts from her to me, and I squeeze her hand. “I know how deadly you are,” I tell her.

Wiping the smile off my face, I zone in on Ames. “You want two hundred acres,” I tell him, cutting to the chase. I don’t want to be here any longer than necessary.

“Give or take,” he says. “In exchange, you get approvals from the city council for your permits. Plus, you get to put out a contract for construction.”

All of which I could have anytime I wanted. Sanoa Bay is going to have streets. Proper paved streets. Finally.

But I’d rather not strong-arm anyone on this, so I’ll let him think he can get for me what I can’t get for myself.

“What do you want the acreage for?” I ask.

“A solar field. Why do you want the permits?”

“Infrastructure.”

He gives me one of those “Bless your heart” smiles. “Kind of like making beds in a burning house, isn’t it?”

I grind my teeth together. They’ve been saying that shit for years. And we’re still there. I haven’t given up the land. I haven’t even given up a single acre.

Jerome steps forward, eyeing me. “Allying yourself with the Collinses might buy you some room, but allying yourself with her …” He gestures to Krisjen. “Buys you nothing with the Conroys.”

I almost whisper. “That’s not why we like her,” I taunt.

My sister has Clay, and Clay’s father has been generous with help and pulling some strings, but I never asked for it. And while I appreciate anything that makes my life easier, I would’ve been fine on my own.

Garrett Ames holds my eyes, and I know he’s about to threaten me or readjust my reality as if I don’t know that everything that I have will be his if I’m just suddenly gone one day.

But before anyone can say anything, Krisjen speaks up. “Doesn’t the state offer tax rebates for land dedicated to solar energy?”

Yes, but … And then I realize where she’s going with this.

“That’s true.” I gaze at Ames. “An acre is roughly … forty-three thousand square feet. That equals over four hundred kilowatts of solar panels multiplied by two hundred acres. You’re talking a utility scale project.”

“You could just rent the land instead,” Krisjen chirps, oh so innocently. “It would eventually pay you more than they will.”

I smile. “Very true.”

Ames’s eyes turn hard on her, then he steps up to me. “I’m only interested in what I can own. I don’t need a landlord,” he bites out. “You have something I need. I have something you need. Think about it. You have a week. And then I stop acting like you’re of any consequence in all of this.”

For the first time in a long time, my arms feel strong. Fire and heat course under my skin, and I hope he tries.

He takes the last step up to me, lowering his voice. “And I know Dallas liked to fuck my son,” he tells me.

Krisjen jerks her gaze to me. “Callum?” she murmurs.

Yep. Callum Ames. Her classmate in high school and an arrogant, predatory piece of shit.

I don’t answer out loud, though. It’s not my place to air Dallas’s business. I’m just glad it lasted only a month, and that Garrett Ames doesn’t want anyone to know about it any more than I do.

Callum, his all-American, frat boy dickhead of a son wanted everyone to think he screwed girls, but it was my brother he really wanted.

But he was also only seventeen when he hooked up with Dallas. I don’t know if I would’ve been able to get Dallas out of that if Callum’s father decided to pursue action.

Thankfully, Callum is off at college, and hopefully, he never comes back. If he does, it won’t be good. He wasn’t happy when my brother ended it.

“If they ever touch each other again,” Ames warns, “the Bay will be visited by people who get paid in cash and know how to make even bones disappear. And then it’ll be visited by bulldozers next. You know what’s better than two hundred acres? Two thousand.”

He backs away, telling me again, “You have a week.”

He turns and heads for the stairs, Jerome slowly following. “You can’t survive,” he tells us. “Everyone knows it but you.”

He spins around, both of them climbing the stairs to the restaurant.

Still holding Krisjen’s hand, I walk hard, back to the bike.

I want him to choke on every grain of sand in the Bay.

And I want it now. I can’t battle this guy for ten more years.

We’ve held on to the land, but nothing is getting better, and it has to or otherwise I have no idea what it was all for.

I need to change something.

“A solar field?” Krisjen says.

“Yeah, it’s bullshit.”

Men like him own oil rigs, not clean energy. He wants it for something else.

We reach the bike, and I hand her the helmet.

“You could get permits in a heartbeat.” She holds the helmet with one hand, twisting up her hair to fit inside. “You have everyone in power wired.”

How does she know that? Did someone tell her about the cameras?

Nevertheless … “But they don’t all know that,” I point out. “When they do …”

“They’re going to be more aggressive.”

“Exactly. They won’t wait around for me to strike.”

Concern hits her eyes. “They would kill you?”

I don’t answer, just climb on the bike.

“Don’t let them,” she says.

Don’t let them? “You think I would—”

“You know what I mean.”

I stop, staring at her. Don’t make it easy, she means. Like I have a death wish.

“I know what you mean,” I tell her, making my voice gentle.

Sprinkles of rain have started to fall, and her skin in the white dress almost sparkles with the drops.

I give her a small smile. “You look pretty.”

She pulls on the helmet, fastening it, and then hikes up her dress just enough to climb on behind me.

She wraps her arms around me tight.

“Don’t worry, Krisjen.” I start up the motorcycle. “Men like that won’t be the end of me.”

I push the kickstand out of the way, looking over my shoulder. “And you don’t leave the Bay without protection from now on,”

I demand. “You’re a target now, just like the rest of us, and there’s no telling what they’ll do.”

“You let Liv, Clay, and Aracely come and go as they please.”

Fuck.

“You think I can’t defend myself,” she goes on. “I can when I want to.”

But I’m not arguing about this. “You don’t leave the Bay without a male.”

The rain falls, the drops darting to the ground faster and faster, and I tip my head back, feeling the cool water and the beautiful, welcome weight of her body around mine.

Like an anchor.

“Do you mind if we just drive around for a while?” I ask her. “In the rain?”

She’ll get soaked, but somehow, I know just what she likes.

And true to form, she replies, “All night if you want.”

I take off, not wanting to be anywhere else for the first time in a long time.