Page 47

She nodded, apparently satisfied that all was as it should be in the world.

“Not long to wait, now.”

I grimaced agreement, then sat back. Closed my eyes, hoping it wouldn’t appear rude; it was just that five senses suddenly seemed far, far too many.

She’d seemed to approve of daydreaming, anyway.

“Oh... oh, my.”

Her surprised tone making me frown, even before I opened my eyes again. Expecting to squint against the sun, only something was already blocking it.

No, three things. And my big bros always had been so good at eclipsing everything else in the world.

Jefferson looming in the middle, and Carlos and Donny either side of him. Standing in front of the bench, and I could only assume it was their scale and their frowns which had prompted the woman’s surprise.

I blinked at them, feeling equally shocked.

“What the hell is going on, Eoin?”

Not really anger there in Jefferson’s tone, but I couldn’t help but cringe from it all the same. I’d known he’d find out what had happened, eventually - that they all would, of course - I’d just selfishly thought that I wouldn’t be there to see the understanding and disappointment dawn.

For a moment I opened and closed my mouth, words failing me.

“I... It’s too late,” I started.

His frown deepened, handsome face looking even more thunderous. When he took a deep breath, I waited for the inevitable argument.

And then Jefferson hissed, a sound of utter exasperation, and threw up his hands.

“Y’know what, I don’t have fuckin’ time for this.”

The noise that escaped me was embarrassingly close to a squeak, as he reached down to grab me from the bench. Instinctively squirming, even as his hold on me tightened around my chest.

“Someone get his damn feet,” he snapped.

A glimpse, as I wriggled in horrified surprise, of Carlos obliging. His arms wrapping my legs in a grip that felt like iron as they hoisted me between them.

“We need to talk, lil bro,” Jefferson said - his voice gallingly level, despite my best efforts to break loose - as he and Carlos started off down the platform.

“It’s okay, ma’am,” I heard Donny say, cheerfully, behind us. “We’re his brothers. Sorry for all the cussing!”

Chapter Twenty-Four

I’d never been kidnapped before, but I had to imagine it felt much akin to getting tossed into the back seat of Jefferson’s truck like a sack of potatoes. Outrage bubbling up in my throat - along with fledgling ideas of escape, now that he and Carlos had released me - right up until an arm hooked around my chest and dragged me further into the cab.

I looked up, startled all over again, to find Brayden grinning down at me.

“Hey, lil bro.”

Donny pushed in, before I had time to think of a reply, dropping my duffel bag on my lap and shoving my legs out of the way. The pickup rocked as Jefferson and Carlos took the front seats.

The big wrestler eyed me in his rearview mirror, gaze narrowed.

“For fuck’s sakes, lil bro.”

And then the engine rumbled into life, and he peeled away from the curb.

At any other time, it might’ve been nice. Brayden’s arm across my chest - as convincing a restraint as any seat belt or, for that matter, straitjacket - and the truck’s hardly-small cabin feeling generously stuffed with the men I’d allowed myself to come to think of as family. Treacherous, and seemingly determined to hurt me, my brain summoned thoughts of the team retreat I’d been promised would come near the end of the semester. Five days or so of “serious bro-bonding time,” Carlos had described it, though that’d been before I so stupidly broke that bond.