Forgotten Sins (Sin Brothers, #1)(52)

The dingy green walls closed in on him, and he again counted the rate of buzzing from the fluorescent light above him. Two cameras were hidden in the ceiling, also emitting a low frequency.

Memories.

A room like this. A large man, buzz cut, dead eyes. Telling him if he lost again, he’d go to the other camp. Disappear like those other kids.

A training field. Hard packed and dusty. Boys, his age, fighting hand to hand. With knives.

Barracks. Beds for growing boys. His brother Matt teaching him how to block a side attack.

The door banged open, ripping Shane back to the present. Malloy stepped inside, followed by another man wearing a navy blue suit and bold power tie.

Malloy tilted his head. “Your lawyer is here, Major Dean.”

Shane lifted an eyebrow, keeping his face blank. His stomach clenched hard. Memories shot like spikes of glass through his brain. His brother wasn’t a lawyer. But his brother was there.

His brother brushed past the detective, taking a seat next to Shane. “Whatever my client said without counsel is irrelevant.”

Malloy snorted, chomping his gum. He reached down and unlocked the cuffs, twirling them in the air. “No worries, counselor. Your client hasn’t uttered one peep since we brought him in three hours ago.” The door clanged shut as he stomped out.

Shane turned toward the man. The past slammed hard into his gut. His brother. Breathing hurt suddenly. “Nathan.”

Nathan nodded. “Yes. Nathan Jones, your attorney.” He peered closer. “Major Dean, how’s the head?”

Memories rippled through Shane’s brain—so many, so fast. Triggered by his brother. He swayed. “Great.” Nathan teaching him to pick a lock. Times they’d spent together growing up, the time he helped Nathan in a knife fight. Blood spraying. For one second Shane wondered if he could trust Nathan. Instinct and memories comingled into a desperate yes. His brothers were the only people he could trust.“Memories filtering in fast.”

Nathan’s eyes lightened. “Good. Good to know.” He eyed the ceiling. “So. I checked at the desk, and you haven’t been formally processed yet.”

Shane nodded. That was good considering they’d have to steal his prints back if he had been. His skull pounded as the dam holding his life back released. “I assume it’s a matter of time?”

“No.” Nathan flipped open a small smartphone to read the screen. “My firm is in touch with the prosecuting attorney’s office. They don’t have a case, and you should be let go soon.”

“Think so?”

Nathan shut the phone. “Well, you did save Mr. Marsh and Mrs. Dean from two attackers. You were defending your spouse when you took the gun from Mr. Marsh and were forced to render him unconscious. Temporarily, of course.”

“Of course.” Flashbacks. Nathan had always been able to spin the bullshit with the best of them. Warmth settled beneath Shane’s rib cage that he remembered his brother. His life was coming back. “Where’s my wife?”

Nathan pushed back from the table, his hands tapping the arm of the chair. “I’m sorry. I have no knowledge of your wife.”

Shane counted the taps. Morse code. Josie was safe with Matt.

Matt?

Yeah, Matt. His oldest brother, the one who’d taught him to fight. Shane’s breath whooshed out, and he blinked against light-headedness. Tears tried to prick the backs of his eyes. He remembered. He wasn’t alone.

So he cleared his throat, trying to clear his head. “Yeah, well, I figure she’s about done with me. After this arrest and all.” He relaxed his shoulders and gave a small shrug. The woman had better not even think of being done with him. She was his life, and no way was he letting her go again.

Nathan narrowed his eyes, stopping his tapping. “Yes, well, that probably would be best. Considering the danger you’ve put her in.”

If Shane had a “screw you” smile, he gave it to his brother. “Speaking of such, any clue why danger is following me?”

“No, sorry.” Nathan had a pretty decent “screw you” smile as well. “Of course, I’m just your lawyer. You don’t tell me everything.” The door opened, and he cleared his throat, straightening when a tall woman in a sexy red cocktail dress clicked stilettos across the floor.

She sat across from them. “Gentlemen.” Her black hair had been swept away from pale skin smattered with freckles. “I’m Cynthia Miller, the prosecuting attorney. The chief of police dragged me out of one hell of a party.”

Nathan smoothed down his silk tie. “Nathan Jones here for Major Dean. I do apologize, Ms. Miller. Our client here, well, he should be let go. Or charged.” The smile Nathan flashed was all teeth and dare.

Malloy lumbered in, dropping his bulk into a chair next to the prosecutor. “I have a victim willing to press charges.”

Nathan tsked his tongue. “You have a spurned lover who was pissed-off my client saved the girl while Marsh ended up on his ass.” He cleared his throat. “Begging your pardon, ma’am.”

Green eyes flashed. “I know what an ‘ass’ is, Mr. Jones.” Her tone made it perfectly clear she considered him one. She cleared her throat. “I assume the woman is willing to testify?”

Nathan sat forward. “She’s willing to testify Tom pulled a gun on Shane, who just defended himself. Then she went willingly with him.”