It’s What Friends Do

 

2013

 

Greer Finlay

 

Lucian and I clearly should’ve asked more people to stay behind and help us with cleanup. The club area looked like a construction zone, and add all the rope and paddles and…

 

It’d been a nice evening, though. With the right permits in order, we could finally build our bar and start selling alcohol to members, which was why Colt and I had gotten started right away. We’d need another day or two, and then the sawdust would be gone. We’d have our bar. Hopefully along with more entertainment. He’d offered up Lucas as a toy tonight. Lucian, Reese, and Penelope had tested a few new implements on him while he’d been strapped to a cross.

 

All in good fun and desperation. Our community was too small, and we didn’t always have bottoms around. Not that it mattered. When we hosted events, we couldn’t stand around and look like we didn’t know what the fuck we were doing. We needed to practice, and I firmly believed a Sadist should know the pain he administered. We were all guinea pigs here.

 

Once the tools had been stowed away, I grabbed the broom to minimize the sawdust infestation, and I figured I might as well get an early start tomorrow morning too. Colt was returning to base on Wednesday—whereas I had another week—so it’d be nice if I could finish the exterior of the bar before he showed up around four. Plus, I was spending the night here, and there wasn’t much else to do. 

 

Next weekend’s event better bring in new members. We were opening the doors to the kinky public for the first time in a while, and Ivy and Macklin were in recruitment mode. They’d orchestrated the whole thing. We were all kinds of fed up with the invitation-only approach at the moment. We had a solid core of good members with a lot of knowledge and creativity, but it wasn’t enough anymore. After a while, some seventy members started to feel incestuous, and it wasn’t as if everyone came out here regularly. Partners were recycled and swapped, causing rifts and drama, some left, nobody came in. 

 

I was an outgoing guy, but that structure had given me a reputation as a loner. I stuck to my little social group of founding members and a few more. I wouldn’t be caught alive in a love triangle or a couple’s shaky venture into non-monogamy. 

 

Lucian returned from the kitchen with two glasses and a bottle of whiskey.

 

“Do you ever wonder what it is that River and Reese do for a living?” he asked.

 

Not really. I had a fairly good idea already. 

 

They’d taken off abruptly tonight.

 

“When men in hoodies and expensive cars travel a lot and say they work in private security, it usually means they’re military without uniforms,” I replied. “Plus, remember when River was just an IT guy?” I’d never believed that horseshit.

 

I wiped sweat off my brow and rested the broom against the half-finished bar.

 

Lucian cocked his head. “How expensive can Reese’s old Impala be?”

 

I grinned. I loved Lucian, but he was a Suit through and through. “It was the restoration that set him back—and River’s truck is probably worth sixty grand. Add the fact that they’re almost done paying off the mortgage on this place.”

 

The Tenleys didn’t lead grand lives. I’d never seen them wear fancy-brand clothes or anything like that. But they did love their vehicles, and Reese never hesitated to pick up the tab if we all went out to eat together. Building this community was important to him, and he didn’t mind paying for it. Our new cabins, for instance? Hell. They hadn’t been cheap. Even if we’d done most of the labor ourselves. 

 

“You’re the money guy—you should know,” I said. “This community won’t pay for itself until we hit what, a hundred members? Two hundred?”

 

“One hundred and thirty,” he stated, obviously having done the calculations.

 

“And there are seventy of us right now,” I pointed out. All of us founding members pitched in with what we could. For me, it wasn’t much money; I didn’t make a whole lot, but I volunteered my time. I’d been involved in most of the renovations. Lucian contributed way more financially, but I doubted any of us came close to what River and Reese put in.

 

“So, military without uniform,” he mused. “Can you even live in DC without knowing someone who’s secretive about their job?”

 

I chuckled as he set the glasses on our workbench. “Aren’t you datin’ someone who works for DoD?”

 

He blanched, confused, and opened the bottle. “Who, Robert? He works in a cafeteria there.”

 

Oh.

 

I stepped closer and accepted a drink. “How’s that going, by the way?”

 

Based on his sigh, maybe not great.

 

“We’re supposed to establish boundaries this weekend,” he said. “He’s more open than I am, but I’m willing to try a don’t-ask-don’t-tell policy.”

 

I felt my eyebrows rise. Fuck that nonsense hard. 

 

“As long as he’s prepared I’ll never go without protection with him,” he muttered into his glass.

 

Screw rubbers—my main issue would be the lack of trust. I preferred non-monogamy too, but I needed all cards on the table. I’d never be able to trust a partner who withheld certain aspects of their life from me. 

 

“Are youse open now?” I asked.

 

He weighed his response. “Sort of. As in, we haven’t set boundaries, and I know where he stands. I’m sure he’s been with others while we’ve dated, and it’s not like I’ve been a monk either. But going forward—he wants us to dip our toes in TPE, and to me, that’s…”

 

I nodded, understanding. A total power exchange changed everything. As a Master, Lucian would need full disclosure in order to know his property. How could one do that with a don’t-ask-don’t-tell dynamic? 

 

“Let’s get comfortable with that bottle, my friend,” I suggested. “It sounds like you need to vent.”

 

He chuckled and smirked ruefully. “Am I that obvious?”

 

He’d removed his tie and taken off his jacket. That said it all about the prim and proper Lucian Leroux. 

 

*

 

We went to Lucian’s cabin since mine barely had any furniture yet, and he didn’t hold back. In between swigs of whiskey, he ranted about how he was getting older and wanted to settle down. He talked about a friend who was stuck in a loveless marriage. He talked about kink and chemistry and finding that one person who ticked all the boxes. Maybe it was Rob? Maybe? He didn’t know. But he felt he owed it to himself to give it a shot.

 

While he paced, I sat comfortably on his couch and let the whiskey warm me up.

 

I didn’t say much. It was his life, not mine. We had different approaches. If I saw someone I wanted, I went for it—sometimes too fast. But I needed that pull to make the decision for me. I could never force something and say, let’s give it a go and hope the sparks fly later on.

 

Lucian stopped abruptly, the whiskey sloshing in his glass, and he turned to me. “Do you have someone in your life who’s like a…a…a force of some sort—you can’t be without them, but you absolutely don’t want to end up like them either.”

 

Boy, fucking did I. 

 

“I have a Sloan,” I replied. “My best friend. Love him to pieces, but fuck his life choices. He keeps havin’ kids with a woman he can’t stand in the long run. They fight more than any other couple I’ve met.”

 

Lucian smashed his lips together and nodded once. “Not entirely unlike my situation. You’ll see KC on Saturday. He’s drawn to kink too, but he’ll die in his quest to deny it. Much like his sexuality. He’s just attending to ‘see what it’s about’ or whatever he said. Like he doesn’t fucking know already. He has a wife and a stepson too. But…” A breath gusted out of him. “I don’t know. I’m starting to see the point, I suppose. I want strings attached and someone to come home to.”

 

Yeah, we’d reached that age.

 

The loneliness snuck up on me sometimes and grabbed me in a chokehold.

 

“I get it. Just don’t… I don’t know. Don’t force anythin’.”

 

He took a swallow and nodded. “I hear you.” Then he came over and slumped down next to me with a heavy breath. “I do like Robert, though. Besides, what are my options? It’s damn near impossible to find someone to click with. I’m fairly sure it’s a myth anyway.”

 

What, clicking with someone? 

 

I wouldn’t know. I clicked well with friends, especially Sloan and my buddies here in the community, but the love schtick had escaped me so far. On the other hand…no. I knew it existed. I’d grown up around it. My folks were happily married to this day. My two older brothers had been wifed up for ages too, and they only had eyes for their women. 

 

“I’m not sure Lucas and Colt would agree,” I mentioned. They were my best example, because Lucian knew them. “They’re tight. They definitely click.”

 

He hummed and drained his glass, then set it on the table. “Well, fuck them and their happiness.”

 

I grinned lazily and finished my drink too.

 

Lucian was a fun drunk.

 

“You should drink more often,” I joked. “Let your hair down.”

 

He huffed a chuckle and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Speaking of hair, you got rid of the goatee.”

 

So had he, and he didn’t have grooming regs to comply with.

 

I rubbed my jaw. “I’mma grow a beard the moment I get out of the service.”

 

“Yeah, you’ll look good in that,” he murmured. “I’ll stick to clean-shaven.”

 

He sure as shit had the jaw for it. 

 

I watched him for a beat, the five-o’clock shadow setting in, the sharpness of his features, his eyes… Lucian Leroux was hot as fuck—there was no denying that. 

 

Heat simmered below the surface, letting me know I’d had enough to drink. 

 

It was probably time to call it a night too. 

 

“We should get some sleep before I make drunken suggestions,” I said, half serious, and got off the couch. There was a guest room in the main house with my name on it. 

 

Sometime soon, I’d furnish my cabin with things other than stacks of books. I needed a bed, for instance. Maybe a couch too. 

 

“What kind of drunken suggestions?” Lucian asked.

 

I smirked at him before I left my glass on the counter of his kitchenette. “The kind that only works when we have a bottom between us.” Like last year when we’d played with…whatshisface. Fuck, I’d forgotten his name. He wasn’t in our community. Lucian and I had met him at a TPE event in Philly. And we’d discovered that we had good co-topping chemistry. But then Lucian had met Rob a while after, so it wasn’t anything we’d explored further.

 

“Are you thinking about Taylor?” he asked. “Tyler?”

 

Something like that. I couldn’t remember. “Aye. Cute guy.” Not the masochist or the domestic slave I dreamed about, but it’d been a fun night. 

 

Lucian rose to his feet too, just clumsily enough for me to notice he was a lot drunker than me. “Well, if you recall…we didn’t have him between us the whole time.”

 

I stifled my amusement, curious about how far he’d take this—and frankly…I was a little too interested for my own good to stop him right away. But yeah, we’d definitely had Taylor/Tyler between us for most of that night. He had been our focus.

 

Lucian came over to me and brushed some sawdust off my chest, then abruptly planted a hand over my pec. “What on earth do you have under here? Please tell me it’s actually something and not your physique.”

 

I grinned.

 

He frowned and withdrew his hands, letting them fall to his sides. “I should have opted for a career in the military.”

 

He’d kill himself.

 

“You keep crunchin’ those numbers, buddy,” I chuckled.

 

“Hmpf.” He came a little closer again and drew the hem of my tee between his fingers. “This is worse than the last time I saw you up close.”

 

Loneliness made me eat a lot of bread.

 

Eating a lot of bread compelled me to crank up the weight lifting.

 

“Worse or better?” I tilted my head.

 

He sighed and lifted my tee a bit, as if he needed to see me in order to figure out his response. “Better. Definitely better.” With that said, he closed the distance between us, and he came in hot, except he didn’t go all the way. His forehead touched mine, noses touched too, and he swallowed and brushed his fingers along my abs.

 

I drew in a breath, smelling his aftershave and the whiskey, and felt a jolt of surprise and lust buzz through me. Was he serious? Was he looking to hook up with me, of all people? There was a reason we’d had a sub between us last time. We weren’t what one might call compatible.

 

Maybe he was hesitating.

 

Was he at war with himself?

 

I combed my fingers through his hair unhurriedly, before I cupped the back of his neck. “Don’t do anything you’ll regret.”

 

He exhaled and shook his head. He closed his eyes too. “Greer Finlay and regret don’t go together.”

 

I smiled. Wasn’t that sweet?

 

He wasn’t done deciding, though. And I was in no rush. For a moment, he just stood there and breathed and…and he touched me. He ghosted his palm up my stomach, he brushed his lips along my jaw… Fuck. His attention was getting to me, combined with his body heat so close. 

 

I shivered as I felt his fingers trace my pecs, and before I knew it, my hands were on his hips. 

 

“A bit different from the subs you’re used to, innit?” I felt the need to throw in a casual reminder of the guy he was seeing.

 

“Different is precisely what I want right now.” He’d made up his mind, and he kissed me a fraction of a second later.

 

Desire rushed through me, and I was quick to respond. I deepened the kiss and cupped his face in my hands. 

 

Fuck. Maybe we both needed this. Urgency built up pressure in my chest, and I suddenly craved every touch, every kiss, and every ounce of heat. Zero hesitation. We made out ravenously, and he was intoxicatingly skilled with his tongue. 

 

When he lifted my tee, I inched back enough to haul it over my head, and I added his look of hunger to my list of needs. I came at him again, and it was my turn. I started unbuttoning his shirt, and he came for my jeans. 

 

He pressed himself close to me and kissed his way down my neck.

 

I blew out a breath. “What’re the odds of you having developed a curiosity for bottoming?”

 

He chuckled huskily and traced his lips and tongue along my sternum. “Probably about the same as you having done it.”

 

So, that wasn’t happening.

 

Not that it deterred us. We had other ways to get off, and we lost the rest of our clothes on our way to the couch. 

 

We tumbled down together, with me on top, and I braced myself against the armrest. His hands went immediately to my ass, pulling me down on him, pressing our cocks together, and his lips never left my skin. 

 

He rumbled an appreciative sound in between kisses along my neck. “You smell fucking incredible.”

 

Hard work and sawdust did it for him, huh?

 

I grabbed his jaw and kissed him again, needing another taste of his tongue. At the same time, he slipped a hand between us and tried to wrap his fingers around our cocks. That didn’t work, but the friction was fucking fantastic. 

 

The more we went at it, it became clear to me that Lucian wasn’t necessarily looking for a quick release. He wanted the closeness, a moment of not having to think, and just let his body do the talking. I sensed that he craved touch, and I was more than happy to give it to him. He was so damn present that it caught me by surprise—

 

“Wait. I need—” He swallowed and nudged me upward. “Stand up.”

 

I eased back, dragged a hand over my mouth, and planted my feet on the floor.

 

He didn’t let me wonder for long. He sat up, yanked me closer, and sucked my cock into his mouth.

 

“Fuck,” I whispered. Pleasure rushed through me, and I lifted a knee to brace a foot on the couch, to which he slid one hand between my legs and grabbed my ass. He seemed to have a thing for it. “Just like that.” I wove my fingers through his hair and started fucking his mouth unhurriedly. 

 

Goddamn, that felt good. Exactly what I needed tonight.

 

“Fucking hell, Lucian…” I groaned and let my head fall back.

 

He hummed around me and shifted one hand to cup my balls. 

 

I didn’t know how many minutes ticked by; it wasn’t a whole lot, maybe three or four, but it was enough to sweep me away. It was a steady climb toward the edge, and the bastard seemed intent to push me off it with force.

 

After a while, I dropped my chin to my chest and managed to open my eyes, and he was staring right at me.

 

Jesus fuck.

 

He was stroking himself, and the sight was something else. 

 

“Don’t get off,” I murmured.

 

A pinch of mirth mingled with the lust in his gaze. 

 

I smirked a little and brushed my thumb over the corner of his mouth, where his lips stretched around my cock. 

 

He knew what he was doing. When he redoubled his efforts, my heart was pounding within seconds, and he was in charge.

 

“I’m gettin’ there,” I warned, out of breath. “Ah, fuck. Fuck.” I went faster, and he spurred me on. He sucked me hard, swallowed around me, and pulled me toward him. 

 

There was no going back. The tingling started, making its way down my spine. I flushed with heat and lost control. I fucked his throat raw, to the sweet sting of his blunt fingernails digging into my ass cheeks, and it became my undoing. 

 

I hauled in a breath and screwed my eyes shut, and the bliss took over. It surged through me, crashed down on me, and damn near took the last strength in my legs. 

 

Lucian swallowed repeatedly, every drop that burst out of my cock, and effectively buried me down his throat. I held on to his head and groaned as the sensations ruled me. 

 

Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.

 

A heavy breath gusted out of me, and I blinked tiredly.

 

Shivers ran through me, only intensified by the way he sucked me clean.

 

My turn.

 

*

 

“Fuck—too sensitive,” he laughed through a breathless groan. “Enough.”

 

I grinned, outta breath, and kissed my way up his body.

 

He was goddamn sexy, splayed out on the couch, chest heaving, muscles contracting…

 

He smiled lazily when I reached him, and we met in a slow, tongue-teasing kiss that soon deepened into an utterly perfect moment of peace and satisfaction. 

 

He sighed and ran his fingertips along my spine. “Why are you a brat-loving Sadist?”

 

I chuckled and nipped at his bottom lip. “Don’t ask me to enter a marriage pact with you.”

 

He let out a laugh and slipped his foot up the backside of my leg. “Fuck marriage. But when we turn fifty, if we haven’t found anyone, let me collar you.”

 

I laughed against his neck and shook my head. “I’ll safeword on that one right now.”

 

We chuckled and met in another kiss, and I asked him to scoot in so I could squeeze in next to him. Then I— “Shit!” Tumbled right down on the fucking floor, ass first.

 

Pain smacked into me, and I groaned at the cold.

 

“Are you okay?” That fucker was laughing at me. He rolled onto his side and peered down at me with way too much amusement in his eyes, so I wanted to flip him off. But I was too damn drained. “I knew you’d look good on the floor.” He eyed me up and down.

 

Like magic, I found the energy to give him my middle finger. “You suck at aftercare.”

 

“Aw, sweet baby—come up here. I’ll take care of you.” 

 

I grunted and pulled myself up to sit at least. That was something. That was plenty.

 

“The bed upstairs is much bigger.” He threw that out there.

 

I smiled and leaned over to kiss his arm. “I’m not sure that’s a good idea if you’re thinkin’ of ways to collar me. You’re clearly still drunk.”

 

He sighed contentedly and lay down again, against the armrest, and he folded an arm underneath his head. “You’re probably right. But I’m enjoying my existential crisis much more when you’re around.”

 

I felt for him—I felt for both of us—but I believed he’d make it. He was a great guy, and he hadn’t locked himself down for endless deployments and a life in the barracks or base housing where it was impossible to meet someone. 

 

Wanting to shower and get some sleep, I got to my feet and located my boxer briefs. “You’re drawn to younger subs, aren’t you? Chances are your future is currently in kindergarten.”

 

“Oof.” He chuckled and made a face. “I don’t know that I’m naturally drawn to younger men. I’m not sure I could go for someone under thirty.”

 

I felt the same way. 

 

“But you have Rob, am I right?” I felt the need to remind Lucian of that guy’s existence again.

 

I wondered why…

 

Lucian raked his teeth over his bottom lip and stared up at the ceiling. “I’m gonna give us a chance. Commitment and all.”

 

Dumbass.

 

I zipped up my jeans and grabbed my tee. “Whatever makes you happy, buddy.”

 

He glanced at me. “I know what you’re thinking.”

 

I smirked.

 

“But you’re a good friend for not saying it out loud,” he joked.

 

I exhaled a laugh and pulled on my tee, and then I dipped down and gave him a kiss. “I’m a good friend for a lot of reasons—and so are you. Sober up. Get some rest.”

 

He nodded and sat up. “I’ll run out and get us breakfast in the morning. It’s the least I can do after you championed through my meltdown.”

 

If that was his way of melting down, it was incredibly satisfying. 

 

“It’s what friends do, innit?” I stuck my feet into my boots. “We listen to each other bitch, we drink, we get each other off.”

 

He huffed and scrubbed his hands over his face. “Okay, get out of here before I drown in my mortification.”

 

“Oh, please. Next time, it’ll be me,” I chuckled. “See you in the morning, hon.”

 

He nodded and mustered a faint smile. “Goodnight, Greer.”

 

*

 

After taking a shower in the main house, I debated whether to knock on Lucian’s door again. A night of body heat sounded way better than heading upstairs to one of the guest rooms. Then again…he needed some space.

 

I changed into a pair of sweats and a tee, and I dug my phone out of my duffel on the way downstairs. I’d heard it go off with a few messages during my shower.

 

One text from Sloan, asking to meet up before I returned to base.

 

That could be arranged. 

 

I stopped at the bottom of the stairs when I saw two messages from Reese.

 

How quickly can you get home? Urgent. Will explain later.

 

Need your help. 

 

The last message had been sent a minute ago, so I headed for the door and called him.

 

I didn’t know what was going on, but this was unlike him. Had something happened? Were they near Winchester for some reason? They’d left fairly early tonight, and I’d gotten the impression it was work-related. 

 

He didn’t answer the call. As I jogged down the porch steps and aimed for my truck, I sent him a short reply.

 

On my way. Be there in 50 mins. Key taped underneath rocking chair on back porch if you need to get in.

 

*

 

I was ten minutes from home when Reese finally called me a little past one AM, and by then, I’d texted two requests for updates and I was genuinely worried. 

 

“What the hell is going on?”

 

“It’s River. We—”

 

“Did something happen to him?” I demanded. 

 

“No, I’m River—I’m usin’ Reese’s phone. Where are you? We, uh, let ourselves in.”

 

His voice sounded strained, and it was officially time to circle back to some of the more outlandish scenarios that’d flown through my mind on the way out here.

 

“I’ll be there in five,” I said, stepping on the gas.

 

When men in hoodies and expensive cars travel a lot and say they work in private security in this area of the country, it usually means they’re military without uniforms…

 

River ended the call, and my mind started racing to figure out what kind of trouble they could’ve gotten themselves into out here. Cops had cracked down on a few meth labs, but other than that, it was a quiet area. Not that it stopped me from entertaining the idea of a cartel setting up a distribution facility nearby—or maybe a terrorist cell?

 

On the other side of Winchester, farmland and ranches took over, where my own house was nestled in between a big horse ranch and a farm, with a ridge in the background.

 

I’d sold off most of my land to my neighbors, ’cause I had no intention of running a ranch. I wanted a place to grow my own food and have some chickens running around. Dogs too, in the future. 

 

I drove down the winding dirt road that led to my house, and it wasn’t long before I saw the lights on downstairs. The upstairs was still a construction site. 

 

A car I didn’t recognize stood parked outside the gate, and I pulled in next to it and killed the engine. As soon as I jumped out, I whipped my head around because yelling and thumping came from the sedan.

 

At the same time, one of the twins came out from my house, and despite the distance across the front yard, there was no missing out on the bloodstain on his white T-shirt in the porch light. Or the red-stained rag he was drying his hands on. In a matter of life and death, they wouldn’t be here—they’d be at the hospital—so I squelched the worst of my worry.

 

“Mind fillin’ me in?” I hollered, pointing to the sedan. “This car’s in labor.”

 

He merely jerked his chin for me to head inside with him.

 

Fair enough, but we were addressing the fact that someone was locked in the trunk of that car at some point.

 

I opened the gate and jogged across the yard.

 

It was River who waited for me in the hallway, among buckets of spackle and paint.

 

The cost of putting most of my spare time into the house in Mclean…? My own house was coming along hella slow. Luckily, I had brothers and friends who’d helped out too. The Tenleys, for instance. They’d helped me restore the porches. 

 

“Where’s your other half?” I asked. The blood on River’s tee didn’t appear to belong to him.

 

He gestured for my living room. “He’s fine. Ish.”

 

I couldn’t read his expression. He was one part shut off, and one part… I mean, I wasn’t blind. I saw tension and worry in his eyes, but the combination of it all didn’t make a lick of sense. You were either closed off or not.

 

“I need somethin’ strong!” Reese snapped.

 

I hurried in there with River in tow, and I took in the destruction of a fine-ass, bare-chested Tenley. “What the fuck happened?” I didn’t stop until I got down on one knee in front of him. He was sitting on the couch, clutching a towel to his ribcage, and there was blood everywhere. “Show me the wound right now, or I’m callin’ an ambulance.”

 

Reese shook his head, breathing through clenched teeth. “It’s shallow. Just hurts like a bitch.” He lifted the towel and winced. “Death by a thousand cuts?”

 

I made a face and inspected the damage. Had he run into a fucking mountain lion?

 

There’s glass.

 

“Hold on, there’s glass.” I halted his movement when he tried to apply pressure to the wound again. “River, my first aid kit is under the sink in the bathroom. Get it for me.”

 

“Wilco.” He walked off quickly.

 

I gripped Reese’s chin and stared into his eyes, deciding he was, as River had said, fine-ish. His eyes were focused, and his color looked okay. 

 

I rose to my feet. “Lie down flat. I’ll go get you some bourbon.”

 

He sucked in a breath and shifted awkwardly, so I helped him. 

 

He groaned. “I love you, man. I’ve always loved you. You’re my favorite.”

 

“You’re just saying that because I have bourbon. I’ll be right back.”

 

I rounded the couch and headed out to the kitchen. 

 

“No way,” he argued, out of breath. “I love you, Greer.”

 

Had he already nicked a bottle? 

 

“I love you too, sunshine. Is River okay? He’s acting weird.” Weirder than usual. I grabbed a bottle—not the finest brand, but the one I usually mixed with Coke—and returned to the living room.

 

“He’s just tryna focus,” Reese gritted out. “I need you to help him deal with the motherfucker in the trunk.”

 

“We can do that when we’ve stopped the bleeding,” I told him. 

 

River came back just as Reese accepted the bottle of bourbon, and I nodded in thanks and received the first aid kit.

 

It was easier to see now. River wasn’t closed off at all; he was trying to keep it cool. Presuming they had orders to follow, I could only guess he was torn between executing them and sticking around for his brother.

 

“Lemme be perfectly clear here, boys,” I said, rummaging through my kit. “My medical training involved a basic course in triage in the field and then the two classes I took in DC for kink purposes. You need to go to the hospital after this, Reese. Understood?”

 

“He’ll see a doctor tonight,” River responded quietly. “Mark my words.”

 

Reese hissed after taking a swig of bourbon. “You’re both so stern. Should I call y’all Daddy?”

 

“Blow me,” I replied and sank down on one knee again. I had my flashlight, I had surgical tweezers, and I had saline solution. “River, can you get a bowl of lukewarm water?”

 

He nodded with a dip of his chin and headed for the kitchen.

 

Reese was…drinking.

 

“Easy, buddy,” I cautioned. “You’re drinkin’ a blood thinner.”

 

“It’s delicious,” was his response. 

 

I shook my head and got started. 

 

“I will blow you…if you get all the glass out,” he added. “I can patch myself up. I never leave the house without surgical glue.”

 

I snorted softly and carefully picked a small fragment from one of the cuts. 

 

“You know, we should revisit that night from last year,” he mentioned. “You, me, and Riv.”

 

I threw him a look. “Do you get horny when you’re injured? Because it wouldn’t surprise me one fuckin’ bit.”

 

He grinned. “I’m subtly tryna set up a hot night for us. Can you focus?”

 

Subtly?

 

I shook my head again and returned to what I was doing. “You’re about as subtle as a sledgehammer, sweetheart. Now, how about you explain what happened tonight.” It wasn’t a question. “I wanna know why someone is locked inside the trunk of a car I’ve never seen—and why it’s in my driveway.”

 

River returned once more, and he knew what to do. He positioned himself behind the couch and bent down to clean up blood—

 

“That’s enough.” He also stole Reese’s bottle, thankfully.

 

“Hey!” Reese scowled.

 

“Clue me the fuck in, one’a youse,” I snapped.

 

The twins exchanged a brief glance, and River nodded once.

 

Reese cleared his throat. “This will shock you, but we’ve been downplayin’ what we do for a livin’.”

 

“No way,” I deadpanned, getting another fragment out of his flesh. 

 

“It’s true,” he continued. “Keep this to yourself—we’re actually private military operators.”

 

I angled the flashlight to the next cut. “I’m so stunned that I can’t form a single word. Legit, I can’t speak, I’m so shocked. Shocked to my core. I can’t believe it. I never would’ve thought. Words fail me.”

 

River’s mouth twitched, but he said nothing.

 

Reese winced and pushed himself up on his elbows. Not ideal, but I was almost done. 

 

“Well, now you know,” he grunted. “We were sent out to apprehend someone tonight not far from here. He’s affiliated with—don’t matter. We get there. Disarm him. Drag him outta his run-down house—and just when I’m about to restrain him, he gets loose and picks up a shard of glass from the ground. He uses it to stab my pretty body before I get pissed off and shove him into the trunk.”

 

River flicked me a glance. “He’s coked up, bleeding, and still armed with that shard.”

 

Okay, then. That was why they needed my assistance, ’cause Reese couldn’t very well do it now.

 

“And the car?” I didn’t want a stranger’s car here if it could lead law enforcement to my doorstep.

 

Reese shrugged. “We use it for work.”

 

That was good, at least.

 

“I can take over now.” Reese gusted out a breath and reached for the gauze. “Seriously. I appreciate it, but my biggest worry is Riv facing that murderin’ fucktard on his own.”

 

Fair enough. A murderer, huh? I trusted the Tenleys.

 

I handed over the saline solution and the gauze to Reese, so he could finish the job of patching himself up, and then I stood up. 

 

“What do you want me to do? Cuff him or something?” I asked. “Disarm him?”

 

“Yeah, just… Help him.” He nodded at River.

 

River hauled out a pair of zip-tie cuffs—flex cuffs or whatever they were called, and I nodded with a dip of my chin. No problem. 

 

“Is he strong? Tall? Built like a brick shithouse? Right- or left-handed?” I asked Reese. Because knowing how fiercely protective he was of River, I’d rather do this myself. 

 

Not to say River wasn’t capable. I’d seen him and Reese go at it, sparring together, and River could definitely hold his own. But for Reese’s peace of mind…

 

“Average height, fairly strong, right-handed, hopped up on coke and anger,” Reese replied. “He’s got nothin’ on you, though. It’s the unpredictability of it all that comes with risks.”

 

I understood. 

 

“All right, let’s get this over with,” I said. I nodded for River to follow me, and I strode right outside. “Leave this to me.”

 

“But—”

 

“You can cuff him once he ain’t a threat.” I caught his frown before I turned around once more, and I zeroed in on the car on the other side of the gate.

 

I might not have a black belt in whatever martial arts the Tenleys practiced, and Reese could undoubtedly take me if he went all in, but I knew how to neutralize an enemy in close combat.

 

As far as I was concerned, this fight was over before it’d started, and that wasn’t me being arrogant.

 

“Get ready to unlock the car,” I said loud enough for the target to hear.

 

I opened the gate as noisily as I could too.

 

The sensor-driven carport lights came on.

 

River walked up alongside me, and that was when I noticed he’d pulled out a gun.

 

He wasn’t going to need it.

 

The target was alive and well; he started yelling and thumping around as we reached the car.

 

“Play along,” I muttered under my breath. Then I cleared my throat and nodded at the car key in River’s left hand before I spoke louder. “Shoot him in the head as soon as I open.”

 

That oughta motivate the target to jump up and fight for his life.

 

River furrowed his brow but said nothing, and once I was positioned in front of the trunk, I signaled for him to press the fob.

 

I heard the telltale clicking sound, the door unlocked, and I hauled in a breath and popped the lid. A fraction of a second later, the target screamed and pushed from within, so I promptly slammed the lid closed again. 

 

The thump and the following shout of pain reassured me. I opened the trunk again, revealing a man with crazy eyes and caked in blood, clutching his head, and I swiftly grabbed his right arm. I held it at an angle he couldn’t bend backward, and I rammed it down on the edge of the trunk, at which he let out a blood-curdling scream. The piece of broken glass fell from his bloodied hand, and I finished the job with a forceful punch up his nose.

 

That should do it.

 

The man fell back and choked out sobs while cupping his nose.

 

I blew out a breath and eyed my hands. I had some blood to clean off.

 

River cleared his throat, tucked away his gun, and eyed the man. “Uh, I’ll blow you too, by the way.”

 

I flashed a quick grin. “Just make sure this piece of shit gets off my property as soon as possible.”

 

He inclined his head and checked his watch. “We have pickup on the way. They’ll be here in half an hour.” 

 

“Then we’re good.” I watched him take over and restrain the man. “For the record, where y’all’re concerned, I’ll always cash in.”

 

He chuckled through a grunt and tightened the cuffs. “Countin’ on it.” With that done, he closed the trunk and peered toward the porch. “Tonight was fucked. This wasn’t our assignment. They sent us in last-minute without enough intel, and the worst part is that Reese is gonna beat himself up for not seein’ the broken glass.”

 

Sounded about right. Reese turned to humor when he had something to hide, and he’d been a damn comedian—a flirty one—from the moment he’d had a bottle in his hand.

 

I followed River’s gaze and spotted Reese on the porch, because he just couldn’t help himself. He stood there in the porch light, waiting for us, with a hand on the gauze that covered his wound.

 

River and I walked back.

 

“Sorry about this, man. We woulda handled this elsewhere if—”

 

“Yeah, yeah. What’re friends for?” I threw an arm around his shoulders as we walked across the front yard. “Only thing that would’ve pissed me off was if you hadn’t reached out.”

 

He exhaled and nodded once. “Thanks.”

 

I let my arm fall again, and we headed up the porch steps.

 

“Everythin’ good?” Reese asked.

 

“He slammed the lid down on the fucker’s head. We’re good,” River chuckled. 

 

Reese sent me a smile. “You ever thought of going private?”

 

I laughed. “Get the fuck outta hea. The moment I EAS, you’ll never see me in a combat zone again.”

 

I was sick and tired of it.

 

“Oh, come on.” Reese grinned. “Don’t tell me this wasn’t the highlight of your night.”

 

The comedian was still with us, eh?

 

I shook my head in amusement. “Maybe that would’ve been true if I hadn’t come here from a nice li’l rendezvous with Lucian.”

 

That surprised them.

 

“For real? And we weren’t there to watch?” Reese nudged River. “Can you imagine? Two different kinds of powerhouses goin’ at it.”

 

Jesus fucking Christ. 

 

River turned pensive and gave me a once-over. “I’d watch that.”

 

They were ridiculous in their voyeuristic ways sometimes. 

 

I folded my arms over my chest. “If we’re powerhouses, what does that make you two?”

 

They exchanged a look.

 

Reese shrugged. “I reckon we’re the strong, silent types who lurk in the shadows. Barely noticeable—people don’t know we’re there.”

 

It was my turn to exchange a glance with River, because had his brother lost his fucking mind? Was he legit drunk on bourbon? 

 

River clapped a hand on Reese’s shoulder. “Brother, I love you with all my heart, but there’s nothing silent about you, nor do you have the ability to even find a shadow to lurk in.”

 

I cracked up. Couldn’t have said it better myself.