Page 178 of Back in the Saddle

“One of Javi’s men?” I asked, my voice stretched tight.

He nodded.

Oh God.

Poor Jeff.

Poor Javi.

Poor unknown Shadow Soldier.

I put my elbows to my knees and dropped my head in my hands.

Roam rubbed my back, not invasive, not expansive, just right.

It felt nice.

Seriously, these weresuch good guys.

Then it hit me, and I sat up abruptly.

“What about the other guy?”

I didn’t like the look that came over Roam’s face, even before he explained it.

“He’s in surgery. We don’t know.” He paused, studying me closely, then from whatever he read he made a decision and carried on, “But it’s not looking good because he was shot seven times.”

Seven times?

Seven?

“Fuckingfuck,” I bit off.

At this point, we both sensed motion to our sides.

We looked that way, and I saw Eric and Mace with a handsome Latino dude who wore a more-official-than-just-normally-official uniform coming our way.

The handsome Latino dude, who I’d never seen in my life, caught sight of me and then let out a visibly massive sigh like I worked his last nerves.

I didn’t get that, but I also didn’t have time to consider it.

Because with them were Javi and Jeff.

I stood, feeling both heartbroken and nervous, because I hadn’t left things in a very good place with my brother, and now I knew he was suffering.

I should have known not to be nervous.

We’d had spats before.

We got over it.

We’d had one doozie of a spat, the worst ever.

And in that moment, my brother didn’t hesitate to walk right up to me and wrap his arms around me.

I returned the gesture.

“I’m so sorry, honey,” I whispered in his ear, my eyes on Javi’s face, noting how his male beauty had turned to stone in his grief.

---