“You have a gun?” I asked, because that’s what seemed important at the moment.
He slanted me a look. “Got more than one. I’ll take you to Smoke’s Range one day and teach you how to shoot so you can defend yourself when I’m not around. For now, tell me if havin’ a huge ass man at your door is something usual for you.”
I thought about it for about two seconds before I was shooting out of my chair and wrenching open the front door.
“Sander?” I asked, my hands flying over my dropped mouth as I took in the sight of my ‘huge ass’ brother.
His handsome face was black and blue. Twin bruises ringed his beautiful dark eyes and another marred his scruffy jaw. His lip was cut and when I reached out to snag his hands, so were his knuckles.
It wasn’t, unfortunately, unusual for Lysander to show up at my door bruised and bloodied. Like I’d said, he lived a tough life and didn’t seem to be able to get shot of it. So, I was prepared for the sight of him.
“Come in, come in,” I urged him, gently tugging on his hand when he hesitated.
I settled him at the little table in the breakfast nook and smoothed back his hair so I could press a kiss to his forehead. “Just going to grab the first aid kit, I’ll be right back.”
He looked up at me with deep, dark eyes that seemed to me like the exact color of sadness. When he nodded, I hurried down the hall in the opposite direction to grab the kit under the powder room sink.
“Babe, you gonna tell me what the fuck is going on?” King asked as I swept back into the kitchen and straight to my brother.
I halted in opening the metal box and whirled to face him. “Oh God, um, right. I guess, well, King, this is my brother Lysander Garrison. Sander, this is King.”
“King Kyle Garro,” my brother clarified, speaking tenderly through his swollen mouth.
He shot me an eloquent look, part hurt and part frustration. It had been weeks since he’d asked me to secure him a job at Hephaestus Auto, and I hadn’t forgotten, but it wasn’t as easily said as it was done. I didn’t know why he wanted a job there and know that I actually knew Zeus and his clan of kids and bikers, I wasn’t sure if I felt comfortable foisting my sketchy brother off on them.
“Seems you have the advantage,” King said, his voice pitched low in that badass biker tone he used when he was pissed. “Only heard about you for the first time a few days ago and I was under the impression you were still locked up.”
Shit.
Both men shot me looks of glittering betrayal, as if I’d plunged knives into their backs.
“Be grateful. Normally, she doesn’t tell anyone about her fuck-up older brother,” Sander said finally, but his posture had shifted from pained and tired to straight-backed.
Tension thrummed through my small kitchen for the second time in less than a week.
“Sander, you are not a fuck up,” I began, moving forward with my initial act of tending to him. As I was pulling out the gauze, the instant ice packs and the hydrogen peroxide gel, I told King. “I don’t really talk about Sander because he’s private. Seeing as I’m, um, dating you, I realize that maybe I should have told you more about him.”
Sander grunted at both my words and his pain as I pressed the ice pack to his jaw. “Don’t need anyone knowing my shit.”
“Tough fuckin’ luck,” King snapped.
He was leaning against the kitchen counter across from us in his school uniform minus the striped tie and navy blue blazer. It occurred to me that he should look like a schoolboy waiting for a ride to class. Instead, he looked like a wolf in sheep’s clothing, a creature of violence and instincts and sex wrapped up in shiny packaging meant to make him innocent. Instead, it amplified his threat.
“What’s your beef?” King asked.
Sander glared at me as he reluctantly answered. “Second degree murder.”
King’s eyebrow rose as he coolly appraised the other man. “Bum charge?”
“No,” my brother shifted uncomfortable as I gently tended to his cut knuckles. “Did it, did my time for six years and got out for good behavior.”
“Why are you showin’ up at Cress’ door first thing in the morning lookin’ like you’ve been run over from a sixteen-wheeler?”
I was glad King had asked the question because I was dying to know the answer.
“Got caught cheating at cards at Lake Edge Casino,” he grumbled with a shrug. “Shit at cards and shit at cheating so it was a dumb idea but I needed the money. It’s not easy finding work when you’re an ex-con.”
I carefully tied the gauze off and tied it at the backs of his hands then placed a kiss on each of his big palms. “So sorry, Sander,” I murmured quietly.