Because I was too damn busy watching the street for the headlights of a certain nondescript sedan and its driver who was anything but.
Chapter 7
Matias
“How’d you find me this time?” I asked as I kept my eyes trained on the building across the street.
I heard Cruz sigh. “You know how,” he muttered. I didn’t react when he stepped out of the shadows and came to stand next to me at the mouth of the alley. “If you didn’t want me to find you, you’d dump your phone and use a burner,” he added.
“Mmm,” was all I said in response. He was right, of course. I didn’t bother telling him the real reason I always kept my phone with me was so he could always find me if he needed me, even when I wasn’t necessarily in the mood to be found.
Like tonight.
“When are you going to stop this?” Cruz asked.
“When he’s six feet under.”
I didn’t need to be looking at Cruz to know what he was thinking. As much as I hated to disappoint my brother, it wouldn’t change anything.
“Just let it go, Matias,” Cruz murmured. His hand settled on my shoulder and it was all I could do not to flinch. But I must have done something to make my brother aware of my discomfort with the physical contact because he immediately removed his hand. This time, I did glance at him. His disappointment was like a physical blow but there was nothing I could do to change it.
The days when I’d been a comfort to my little brother had long since passed. My eyes shifted back to the bar across the street. I willed the door to open and for him to walk through it. Then this would all finally be over and I could fucking breathe again. And my kid brother would be safe.
“Bishop is gone, Matias,” Cruz said, his voice growing heavy with a mix of frustration and anger.
I ignored him because I knew better. I knew things about Clinton “The Bishop” Tennant that Cruz didn’t. Like how my very unbalanced former second-in-command would never stop. Even if it meant he’d be exposing himself, he’d never leave a mission unfinished.
And his mission was to destroy me.
He’d never do it directly by coming after me, though. No, he was much smarter than that. He’d take everything that was important in my life first, and since Cruz was the only person who mattered to me, my little brother would never be safe. Bishop would be looking to finish what he’d started when he and the rest of my so-called team had jumped Cruz and nearly killed him.
Cruz still believed Bishop and our brothers-in-arms had only attacked him so they could use him as bait to lure me into their trap, but I knew better. Cruz hadn’t just been a means to an end. Bishop had enjoyed watching every blow and bullet that had cut into my brother’s flesh merely because he’d known how much I would suffer.
How I’d always suffer.
The fucker had been right.
While Cruz had recovered from the attack, I relived it every moment of every day. And that would be reason enough for Bishop to return.
The only way to keep him from getting to Cruz was to find him first. Until that day came, there could be no complacency. I would always need to look over my shoulder.
“Go home to your man, Cruz,” I murmured.
The mere thought of Elliot Wittier had my mind instantly going to the one place I needed it to not go.
Matias, please…
I inwardly cursed as the sound of Sam’s plea filtered through my brain. Not surprisingly, my dick instantly reacted as a cacophony of images hit me one after another.
Sam’s head thrown back in pleasure.
His wide eyes as he watched me taste his essence.
The moan that bubbled up from his throat when I kissed him.
Fuck.
“Matias—”
“Go home!” I snapped at my brother as I whirled on him.
Cruz flinched but stood his ground.
And I felt like an even bigger asshole.
My brother had stood at my side during even the most dangerous of firefights when we’d been deployed, but to know that I was capable of scaring him…
I recoiled in shame and leaned against the nearest brick wall. “Just go, Cruz,” I said softly as I focused all my attention on the door across the street. Once Bishop was dead, I’d get the hell out of Cruz’s life so he could live his happily ever after with Elliot.
It didn’t surprise me in the least when Cruz stepped in front of me. I might have put him on edge, but he was a stubborn shit… he always had been. He’d needed to be to survive our father.
“He’s not in there,” Cruz said, his voice cold. “I already looked.”
I straightened at that. “You did what?” I growled.
“It’s a gay bar, asshole. The back door might as well be a revolving one with all the guys who sneak out to the alley to fuck.”
I’d already scoped out the building, so I’d known the back had an exit, but I’d been forced to choose only one door to watch and my gut had told me Bishop would use the front one to leave, whether he hooked up with someone or not. After all, the man needed privacy for the things he liked to do to his partners.
“Even if I hadn’t seen Bishop, he sure as shit would have noticed me,” Cruz added.
I was in the process of reaching for Cruz when I caught myself. I fisted my hand instead.
Cruz noticed.
But instead of moving away from me, he stepped forward. “You’re not Dad, Matias.” His gaze dropped briefly to my fist. “But you’re not you, either. Please, stop this. Just stop.”
He might as well have asked me to stop breathing. “I can’t,” I whispered. I hated the rage that burned within me. I’d always hated it. And I didn’t believe for a second that I wasn’t like our father. I was just better at not taking my fury out on the people I cared about.
Not people… person. There was only one person I truly cared about and he was standing in front of me.
Are you sure?
I told my inner voice to shut the fuck up even as an image of Sam popped in my head.
Four days… four days since Sam had come apart in my arms and I could still remember every single detail of the encounter. It made no goddamn sense. I couldn’t remember the face of pretty much any of the guys I’d fucked in the past twenty-some-odd years, but it was like every detail of Sam was imprinted on my brain.
“Then at least come home. Ronan’s jet is waiting for us at the airport.”
I sighed. I wasn’t exactly thrilled that the man who was the closest thing I had to a boss knew I’d skipped town to deal with personal business.
I still had no idea how Ronan Grisham had found me and Cruz in the year following the attack on Cruz. My brother had still been recovering while I’d been using every connection in my arsenal to track Bishop. The former-surgeon-turned-vigilante had shown up one day and made us two simple offers.
The first had been jobs where we could use our unique skill sets to help others get the justice they deserved.
The second was information.
It had turned out that Ronan himself had been in the military and had been the survivor of a brutal attack that had left his lover dead. The attack had been for no other reason than Ronan and his partner’s military brethren learning the men were in a relationship. Like Cruz, Ronan had been honorably discharged after the assault.