Page 5 of Hunters and Prey

Chloe was bound for Yale, Dartmouth, or Harvard; then she'd go out of his reach, beyond their insignificant town in Colorado. He'd always known she was meant for more; she had the brains in the family, while he'd always been the muscles. That was how it was. In the meantime, he'd spend as much time as possible with her.

Tom realized most guys didn't feel that way about their siblings, but their father had always been busy—with his job, his research, his travels. Their mother had disappeared when Chloe was just old enough to wobble along. It had been just them since.

He got dressed and headed out for breakfast before his shift started. Five years, and he was still a teller. He managed the team behind the counter, but it was still shitty and redundant. The bank professed to promote from within, and mostly they did, but their local bank manager chose who got the next job; it was always a pretty young thing who batted her eyes at him. Quentin Rowe had it in for Tom since the day he'd started. The fat, mousy, hunched-over man of fifty-three was the archetype of a small-time manager who felt too big for his boots. Tom had ended up reducing his hours and volunteering with the local fire department to retain his sanity, hence why he started at eleven and finished at three—just covering the rush hour.

He knew that decision shot his career in the knees, but he felt better for it. Maybe he should look for another job, but he was putting that on hold. Tom had a hard time admitting it, even to himself, but he wanted to see where Chloe ended up first. If he knew what college she picked, he could apply to jobs in the same state.

Maybe. Damn, his dependence on the girl was unhealthy. But she was his...pack. His anchor.

After four dull hours giving people their cash, explaining charges, and referring anything remotely interesting to someone who was getting paid more than him, he was out of the bank and jogging to the fire station.

"Hey, Miller!"

He high-fived the captain on his way in, heading to the back of the station to get changed. Three regulars and another volunteer were chatting. The moment he walked in, Vince asked, "Miller, you in?"

Tom laughed. He hadn't heard a thing about their plans, but Vince knew the answer was probably yes. He was always in. Always willing to do things, distract himself. Tom didn't spend one night alone at his place. That was the definition of torture to him, unless he had some buddies around. Or Chloe.

"Probably. What for?"

"Tonight. New bar in the city."

Ah. A night in Denver.

"I'm definitely in. What time? I have a book club after my shift."

"Book club?"

Will laughed at him; Tom shrugged it off, used to it. He liked audiobooks, and refused to let any dumbass make him feel ashamed of it.

Besides... "Hot, smart girls dig readers."

"Who says I need a smart girl?"

He rolled his eyes and got into his uniform, eager to start his shift.

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