Page 55 of The Bad Brother

Colt shakes his head on a sigh that tells me he’s already sick of my shit. “Someone sliced you up pretty good, downstairs,” he answers in a conversational tone, his gaze dipping to my split knuckles before lifting to take in the small cut above my eye. Colt’s not stupid. He knows what goes on in the basement. Everyone does—the bare-knuckle brawls I hold in the basement and the bets people place on them are Barrett’s worst kept secret, but he’s never asked about them. Never even alluded to the fact that he knows about them.

Until now.

“Is that why you’re here?” Folding my arms over my chest, the move pulling at the stitches in my back, I shake my head again on a shitty laugh. “Here I was, thinking youcame in because you were hoping to catch Sloane again before she left for her shift.”

Colt’s gaze narrows at my tone while Cade mutters something under his breath that sounds a lot likejesus christ.“I came in for a fucking sandwich,” he tells me, his tone going hard. While Colt might not have the life experience that his brother and I do, he’s no soft sell. He’d rather go blind than blink. “But since I’m a two birds, one stone kinda guy, I figured I’d get your side of things—since Iamthe sheriff and all.”

My side of things?

My little brother has some big feelings over the fact that our grandfather left me a considerably large trust fund and didn’t make me jump through hoops to get it. And, as usual, when Ethan has big feelings, he works them out on me.

I give Colt a shrug. “It really wasn’t that big a deal,” I tell him, careful to temper my tone because he’s family and the last thing I need is a fight on two fronts. “I was walking through the crowd, on my way upstairs, and someone caught me with something—slid through pretty clean. Felt like a razorblade.”

Now Colt frowns while Cade looks like he might be a little sick to his stomach. “How bad?”

“Not that bad,” I tell him with another shrug. “Like I said, no big deal.”

Practically snarling at me, Colt turns his questioning look on his brother. “How bad?”

Cade hesitates but only for a moment. “Bad enough that Sloane had to stitch him up in her kitchen last night.”

Looking back at me on a sigh, Colt swipes a rough hand over his face. “Did you get a look at who did it?”

“Since I don’t have eyes in the back of my head—” I uncross my arms and show him my hands before letting them slap against my thighs. “no. Sorry, Sheriff.”

Giving me an exasperated sigh, Colt nods. “Any thoughts on why someone would be stupid enough to attack you in your own bar?”

Yeah—see Ethan and his big feelings.

I give my cousin another shrug. “Nope.”

“Right.” Bobbing his head on a sigh, Colt divides a flat smile between his brother and me. “So, we’re in agreement that this is another one of Ethan’s temper tantrums, then?” When neither Cade or I answer him, Colt sighs. “Look—I’m willing to turn a blind eye to a lot of the shit that goes down here because I know you run things with a certain amount of integrity and because everyone involved is a reasonably intelligent adult who knows what they’re getting themselves into.” Standing from his seat, Colt reaches into the back pocket of his uniform pants and pulls out his wallet. “What I’mnotwilling to turn a blind eye to is assault with a deadly weapon—especially when the victim is family.” Opening his wallet, he tugs out a couple of bills and tosses them on the bar, next to his empty plate. “I want you to shut it down for a couple weeks,” he says, his tone making it clear that it isn’t a request. “No more Thursday nights in the basement until I get a bead on the dickhead who attacked you.”

You won’t find him. Ethan isn’t stupid enough to use someone local.Instead of saying it out loud, I tell him the truth. “Already done.”

“Good.” Shoving his wallet back into his pocket, Colt starts to walk away, heading off to do whatever it is he doesall day. Turning to look at me in the open doorway, he gives me a long look. “And just so we’re clear—if I wanted to see Sloane, I wouldn’t come here looking for her. I’d just go to the hospital,” he tells me with a knowing smirk before walking out the door.

IPICKED RIVER UP FOR HER SHIFT ANDtook her to June’s for lunch, as promised.

“You’re okay?” she says, eyeing me suspiciously over the top of her menu. “For real?”

“For real,” I say, shaking my head on a laugh. “Sloane stitched me up—she said it wasn’t even that serious.” The last part is a lie but I don’t feel bad about telling it. River is a lot more fragile than she lets on. She has nearly five years sober and I won’t let the shit that’s going on with Ethan be the reason she backslides.

When I say it, River folds her menu and sets it on the table before sitting back in her seat to arch a slim, sandy-colored brow in my direction. “Itoldyou she was a doctor.”

“Yes, you did,” I say after swallowing another laugh. “I regret doubting you—and her.”

“You should.” Reaching for her diet Coke, she eyes mewhile taking a drink. Setting it down with a frown, she sighs. “You owe her an apology.”

“Already done,” I say with a nod, remembering that I was practically on my knees, begging her not to move out, only a few hours ago. “Apology has been given, along with a solemn promise to stop being a dick.”

“Good,” she sniffs at me on a little huff before her mouth quirks to the side. “And you’resureyou’re okay?”

“Yes, River,” I say, flattening out the sharp edge of impatience in my tone as best as I can. “I’m sure I’m okay.”

“Do you know who did it?” It’s the same question Colt asked me this morning but for him it was rhetorical. He knew, even without asking that Ethan was responsible. All River knows about my brother is that he’s an asshole who slept with my fiancé.

“I’m sure it was someone who lost a pile of money, betting on the fights.” Again, I lie without guilt. The less River knows about my psychotic little brother, the better. “Colt’s looking into it.”

---