Jaz’s thighs burned, but she kept the strain to herself. “But you aren’t a child now. So why are you so determined to keep the status quo?” The words started to come with difficulty, her lungs aching for breath. “Your mom came to Colorado to fight for you. That has to count for something.”
Instead of answering, Liam opened up his stride, taking them both into a full-out sprint that left no ability for either of them to continue with the conversation. It was a dick move, but one still had to admire the strategy, ruthless as it was.
After finishing the run, Jaz followed Liam to Trident Rescue and Security, where she used the gym while Liam caught up on work. She knew from experience that he would stay in the office until midnight if left unchecked, but they had one more appointment to keep—one that Ivy had extracted Jaz’s and Liam’s word about keeping before agreeing to spring them both from St. Joseph’s.
Liam had the stoic look of someone about to face the firing squad as he rang Kyan’s square doorbell. In his signature black jeans and a dark silk shirt, he looked too formidable to be standing on a porch littered with action figures and a bright red tricycle, but Jaz figured it best to keep that bit of observation to herself.
“Come around back.” Ivy’s voice reached them from around the house, where Kyan and Bar appeared to be arguing about who should get to hold the open bottle of bubbles. Bumblebee watched the proceeding intently, ready to leap into the air and assault said bubbles as soon as the humans got around to producing them. Getting up from the patio table, the small doctor came around to greet them. “I’m glad you came. Kyan and I had a bet going on whether you’d show up.”
“I keep my promises,” said Liam.
Kyan’s gaze cut over to him.
Liam lifted his chin.
Recognizing the signs of the male monkey dance, Jaz put her fists on her hips. Clearly, Kyan was well aware that she and Liam were more than coworkers now, and just as plainly, Jaz’s brother had thoughts on the matter. Ones that, as far as Jaz was concerned, Kyan could shove up his ass. “Is there something you want to say, Kyan? Perhaps you have an opinion on who I should be sleeping with? Because I have some comments about your life that I would absolutely love to share with you as well.”
Kyan surrendered the bubbles to the toddler and came over to the patio table, turning one chair around and straddling it like a horse. He didn’t wear baseball caps now like he used to, and the scars running along his face reminded Jaz of how many opinions on his life she’d, in fact, had. And shared incessantly. Hell, she’d once been the one to urge Ivy to use her medical position to stop Kyan from the daredevil stunts he’d been addicted to. But of course, that was different. Jaz had meddled in Kyan’s life to protect him.
Yeah. Utterly different.
“Anything new from Jaz’s mystery hater?” Kyan asked, which, in this company, was akin to a cease-fire accord.
Liam shook his head and took a seat as well, dutifully following Ivy’s silent order to remove his shirt. “None that I can tie to the initial letters. Though the internet is full of opinions on how much Trident Security botched up Jaz’s protection detail and whether Vector Ascent was right to sign her instead of Roman Robillard to begin with. By the way, remember that mugging? Devante confessed to having paid a couple of drunks to rough Jaz up a bit. He told them to go after her hands specifically… But it seems they saw a purse and got carried away.”
Jaz cringed and rubbed her wrists. “Maybe Roman or Devante are somehow behind this mess too. I mean, Roman is getting his name in the press like he wanted, and it fits. He outsources hurting me to his cousin, who outsources it to a couple of drunks. When that fails, Devante tries to go after me himself. And when that fails too, Roman decides that if you want something done right, you have to do it yourself. Roman does fit the mentally unbalanced profile of the letter sender.”
“Except that we saw Roman at Adventure World, and he was too drunk to do much of anything,” said Liam. “Also, the blast analysis suggests a more advanced knowledge of ballistics than anything in Roman’s file indicates he has. He couldn’t have built that device.”
Ivy pulled back a bandage and applied something to the healing cuts that made Liam hiss.
Jaz cringed. “How’s he doing?”
“He is fine,” Liam answered for Ivy.
Ivy snorted. “Don’t ask me how, but between being lucky, good, and damn stubborn, I don’t see a reason Liam won’t be able to belay at the competition in two weeks.” She paused. “Provided you two are still going?”
Their ensuing silence was pregnant enough that Jaz suspected Kyan and Ivy had discussed the wisdom of Jaz bowing out of the competition. But to them, the Clash was just another climb. Hell, Kyan had thought it a good idea to step back from it even before things started to go boom. She didn’t expect them to understand just how vital this was to her, but she did expect them to take her word for it when she explained that it was her Super Bowl.
When she turned to her brother, Kyan had the decency to look away. Yeah.
“Of course we’re still going.” Getting up from his seat, Liam pulled his shirt back on and did up the buttons with brutal efficiency. “Kyan, a word in private with you, please.”
29
Liam
Kyan jerked his head toward the side of the house, where a new basketball hoop was now attached to the garage. A pile of lumber and instructions on the side of the driveway betrayed Kyan’s plans for a tree house. Liam raised a brow. Kyan was skilled at many things, from demolition to hand-to-hand combat. So far as Liam was aware, however, carpentry was not on said list.
“I wanted to make some things for Bar,” Kyan said with a touch of defensiveness. “For when he’s old enough. There’s a YouTube video for most anything now.”
“True.”
Kyan put his hands into his pocket. “Ivy wants to put up a swing set and maybe a sandbox there on the lawn.”
That seemed more age appropriate. And less likely to collapse. Liam kept both those thoughts to himself. He and Kyan had other things to discuss, and he wanted to get it over with. “So, are we talking with gloves or without?”
Kyan crossed to an outdoor storage shed and fetched a basketball. Taking his time and pounding out the occasional dribble, he lined up along the free throw line he’d painted on the driveway, raised his arm in a flawless bend, and shot the ball.
It swished right through, nothing but net. As the ball bounced, Kyan retrieved it and threw it—hard—into Liam’s chest.
So, without gloves it was.
“I asked you to protect my sister, not sleep with her. Did you get confused?”
Liam drove the ball toward the net, grunting at the impact from Kyan’s illegal check but still making the basket. “Things changed. Jaz’s safety is still my number one priority, though.”
With a disgusted grunt, Kyan smacked the ball from Liam’s hands and headed toward the hoop. Liam blocked his way, stealing the ball. “You don’t believe me?” Liam demanded.
“There’s more to protecting Jaz than making sure shit doesn’t blow up.” Kyan went after the ball. “And you plow through women like flames through paper. I know you, Rowen. You like to play and you like to fuck. You know what you don’t like? Coming back for seconds.”