Defy (Brothers of Ink and Steel Book 3)(40)


How can he just leave?

My lungs burn and my chest constricts. He didn’t say goodbye.

I let my fingertips caress the lucky clover and think, When did he have the chance to get this?

It doesn’t really matter—he did, that’s what counts.

I’ll never forget you, Ryder Axton.





Chapter Ten



Ryder





“I should be out there looking for Eduardo Miguel.” I’m pissed as I send the dart rocketing through the air to the target twenty feet away on the wall.

“So get out there and find him,” Talon tells me, like it’s simple and I’m an idiot.

“The Bureau made sure to inform me that they want me as far away from this case as Siberia is from the Caribbean.”

“That’s because they don’t want you showing them up,” Josh says.

“It’s high profile. They’ll keep her safe, and that’s the important thing.” I launch another dart. “Right?” I don’t have to see them to know they both just rolled their eyes at me.

“Don’t you have wives or women to deal with?” I bark.

“Sophie and Charlie are with Quinn shopping,” Josh says like I wasn’t trying to insult him.

“I don’t need the drama.” Talon flips through an Inked Magazine. “And since when do you do what you’re told?”

“I’m not, exactly. I have Briggs scanning satellites and traffic cams, and I’ve got my ear to the ground while watching for Miguel to pop back up on the grid. All I need for him is to make one f*cking mistake,” I extract the last three words slowly and pitch another dart. “I’m also keeping an eye on those stupid-ass cops in Mansfield since they weren’t suspended in the fiasco. But they’re carefully lying low too,” I explain. “But even all that’s not the same as beating pavement—the waiting is f*cking agonizing.”

We’re hanging in the man cave in the back of the House of Ink and Steel—the tattoo and piercing shop that’s owned by my brothers. Well, they may not be my brothers by birth, but these guys are the truest brothers I could have ever asked for.

My tongue rolls into my cheek. And I didn’t ask for them.

Maybe these guys were Chief’s way of looking out for me after he left this earth. I don’t know how all that shit works—life and afterlife—but that’s how it always felt to me. How it felt after we finally got past our differences, anyway.

If there had been more of a chance, more time, I would’ve explained to Farrington just what that tattoo scribed over my left rib, the one that says, “I am my Brother’s Keeper,” means.

“I swear to God! For a group of rugged bastards, you’re all sure turning pretty f*cking domesticated.” Reese busts in through the back door with Liam, Connor and Chase. He takes one look at me. “Oh Christ! Even Ryder is in a mood. How am I supposed to hang out with you ass-clowns anymore if you’re just going to act like a bunch of grumpy old men?”

“Do you want to get in the ring and have a go at me, Reese?” Josh doesn’t even bother looking up from his Parenting Magazine.

“Nope,” Reese is quick to answer.

I chuckle. Josh North is the Light Heavyweight Champion of the UFC at the moment and at the very top of his game.

“Good, then shut up, puppy,” Josh quips.

“Whatever.” Reese ignores him. “Liam and Josh now have no balls, only chains. Connor and Chase are only interested in using precious summer months for more school—I mean, honestly, who the hell does that? Talon is afraid to lose his virginity, and Ryder—”

The dart flies from my hand and shaves past Reese’s ear and into the door near where he stands.

“You were right before, I am in a mood, so don’t f*ck with me.”

My brothers and I are going on a seven year familial relationship. How we all met and came together sucks ass in the worst ways possible. We all came from broken lives or damaged homes or no homes at all. We’ve all come a long way, though, and we’ve proven that personal success stories can be real.

North House saved us all. The home—brain child of Cade North, Josh North’s uncle—is a group home for destroyed teens that builds them back up again through rigorous physical, emotional and spiritual training with mixed martial arts.

We all lived there together—and it forged a bond among the seven of us that will never, never be broken.

“Why didn’t you—?”

“Tell her how I feel?” I almost laugh as I finish Talon’s sentence. “Wouldn’t that have been great timing?” I jeer. “I’ll get right on that. ‘Girl I rescued from a murderous drug cartel, sex slavery and death, I know you probably feel drawn to me simply because of the psychological effects of the fact that I saved your life, but I may have developed feelings for you.’ Get f*cking real.”

I toss my last dart. “Doesn’t matter anyway—no timing is good. She has her entire life ahead of her. You don’t mess with that. You don’t tell a girl like that how you’re feeling.”

“What the f*ck is that supposed to mean?” Josh asks, calling me on my bullshit.

“You and Liam, you have a rare . . . thing going on. You found the women who are perfect for you—you deserve them.”

Allie Juliette Mouss's Books