Page 91 of Avery's Hero

Grinning, he says, “I figured, no girly shit in there.”

He tips up the beer, finishes it, and places the empty in the sink. When he turns, he meets my eyes. “Thanks for coming to get me.”

“Of course. I’m so glad that nightmare is over.”

The muscle in his jaw ticks. “I’d do it all over again. I’ll always do what needs to be done to take up for you, Pipsqueak.”

Emotion fills my throat as I rub the cold bottle between my hands. “Thank you. I forever owe you. The good news is that I’m not a schoolgirl anymore and you don’t have to worry about protecting me from bullies and their entitled fathers now. I’m safe. Things are good here.”

He lets out a rough sigh. “I feel a lot better being out so I can see that with my own eyes.”

Making a dismissive motion with my hand, I smile. “As you can see, I’m all good.”

He studies me for a long minute. “You look happy. This guy must be doing something right.”

“I am happy. He’s good to me. But you being home is also a huge part of this overcoming need I have to sing show tunes.”

I hop up from the table and hug him for the tenth time today. I still can’t believe he’s been locked away for five years. In an emotional voice, I say, “Why don’t you have another beer while I make sure your room is all set. I’ll put some towels out for you too.”

He eyes the fridge. “You know, that sounds really good. You want another?”

I’m already halfway down the hallway, but yell back toward him, “No. I’m set.”

With a stack of fresh towels in my arms, I hurry through the second bedroom, flipping on the light and turning downthe bed. I stocked his room with toiletries and some creature comforts. If I’d have thought of it, I’d have bought him new clothes. But we can go shopping tomorrow. One of the benefits of being on restricted duty is a nine to five schedule so I have my evening free right now.

When everything is perfect in Gunnar’s wing of the apartment, I start back toward the kitchen. “Okay, you’re good to go, your room?—”

When I round the corner, I skid to a stop. My brain can’t compute what I’m seeing. The words I had on my tongue vanish.

“Brock,” I say instead, with shock in my voice. “What’s going on here?”

Gunnar and Brock are standing inches from one another, faced off like two prizefighters about to go rounds against one another. Murderous light is sparking in both their eyes.

Terror grips me, making me quake instantly. I’ve never seen the look they have on their faces.

My brother is snorting mad. “What the fuck, Mitchell?”

I don’t know whether to jump between them or run. Stammering, I try to butt in on the glaring contest. “You two know each other?”

Neither one of them answers me. I’m not sure they even know I exist.

Hello! The voice of reason is calling but no one is listening.

Brock seems to grow even taller as his anger flares. “I’ll be damned. It’s a ghost. I never thought I’d see the infamous G.S. Ellis again. I knew you were doing time for beating some rich guy up, but I just never guessed I’d cross paths with you again.”

Gunnar’s jaw tics. “Why are you here, asshole?”

Brock’s mouth tips into a wry grin. “Because I’m going to marry your sister.”

Oh,what?

“Over my dead body,” growls my brother.

A wheezing gasp is all that I can get out of my voice box before I drop into the kitchen chair. That peace I was enjoying must have been thin air.

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Unblinking, I hitch a thumb toward the door. “Let’s take this outside,” My anger bleeds through my words.

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