Forgotten Sins (Sin Brothers, #1)(51)

“Actually, you’re pointing the weapon at Nathan,” Matt said. “He’s been shot before. Go ahead.”

“You’re such an *,” Nathan muttered.

Their banter bordered on humorous, but a thick tension blanketed the room. Danger prickled through the air.

“Would you please leave?” Why was she asking them? She held the gun.

Matt’s eyes softened. “No. Shane apparently wants you safe. That means we keep you safe.”

“For how long? Until he leaves me again?” Her voice cracked.

“Ah, Josie.” Matt leaned forward, his gaze serious. “He had no choice. Jory was killed, and we had to move. Leaving you was the only way to keep you safe and do what he needed to do.”

Fire whipped through her. “Baloney. Sorry, Matt. The old ‘I hurt you to protect you’ line doesn’t work on me.” She shifted her aim to him. “How did Jory die?” The question held risk and she knew it.

They both stiffened. Already hard, their faces hardened even more. Matt held her gaze while Nathan dropped his to the floor. Pain thickened the air.

Matt cleared his throat. “We need to get Shane out. Will you help us or not?”

Okay. So they shared information as freely as Shane did. Not at all. “If I help you, you’ll leave? All of you?”

Matt winced. “Nate and I will leave. You’re on your own with Shane.”

“Shane will leave,” Nathan said.

Matt cut him a glance, “Nate—”

“Shane will leave.” Nathan’s jaw snapped shut. “I have one brother in the grave, and everyone close to us dies. Shane will leave. He’ll move on if I have to beat him senseless to do it.” He exhaled loudly. “I’m sorry, Josie. But you should cut your losses and move on. There’s no future with any of us.”

She’d already figured that out, but hearing the words delivered so coldly slid ice down her spine. Josie lowered the gun. Her hand ached, but she kept a hold of the weapon anyway. “How many brothers are there?”

Matt took her measure. “Four.”

Surprise flashed across Nathan’s face. Apparently Matt wasn’t usually so forthcoming. Nathan cleared his throat. “Four counting Jory.”

Three brothers still lived. A real family. “Shane might not remember you.”

The sofa wobbled when Matt pushed his bulk off. “I know. We have his medical records.” He stretched his neck. “Why was Shane arrested?”

She didn’t bother to ask how he’d gotten his hands on Shane’s medical records. “I went to stay with a friend, and two men tried to break into the house. Shane stopped them and knocked out my friend to, ah, take me.”

Nathan stretched to his feet. “Tom Marsh?”

These guys could obtain information now, couldn’t they? “Yes. Tom had a gun pointed at Shane, so Shane defended himself. Now Tom has pressed charges.”

Nathan grinned. “Listen to you defending your man.”

“It’s the truth.” She wrinkled her nose at him. So familiar. Must be the resemblance to Shane. Her man. Temporarily at least.

“So. Do I flash my badge?” Nathan yanked a wallet out of his back pocket to flip open the top.

Was that an FBI badge?

“No.” Matt reached into a case sitting next to the couch that had been hidden by his long legs. He drew out a wallet, which he tossed to his brother. “You’re Nathan Jones, attorney at law. Congrats.”

Josie cleared her throat. “The FBI badge would work better. He could take Shane into federal custody.”

Nathan eyed her. “I like how you think… and you really do look like an angel.”

She stiffened. The nickname. Shane had discussed her with his brother. What had he said? “Thanks.”

Matt shook his head. “The badge is authentic. I’d rather not have the connection between Nathan and Shane on the record. Not yet, anyway.”

“Why not?” Her hand cramped around the gun. She should put the weapon in her purse, but that seemed unwise. Just in case.

Matt shrugged. Standing, he seemed even taller than Shane, who stood to six foot three.

She faced Nathan. “You’re really in the FBI?”

“No.” Nathan grabbed a California driver’s license out of the wallet and studied the plastic.

“I don’t understand. Why do you have so many fake credentials?” Unease began to make her head pound. Who were these guys?

Nathan yanked a large handgun from the back of his waistband and tossed the weapon to Matt. “I shouldn’t be armed.”

Matt placed it on the scarred table holding the rickety television. “We can’t really explain. Shane trusts you, so we’re letting you know this much. But the less you know, the safer Shane is.” He turned to Nathan. “Good luck.”

Nathan nodded. “I brought a suit—it’s in the car.” With a wink at Josie, he dodged out the door.

Silence. Alone with Matt, Josie turned to take him in. “So, you’re Mattie.”

He crossed his arms over a broad chest. “That’s me.”

“Does Shane love me, or what?”

*

The smell of the interrogation room set neurons firing in Shane’s brain. Antiseptic. Fear. Blood. He rested his elbows on the hard metal of the bolted-down table, his hands handcuffed before him. In less than a minute, he could have them off.