Page 60 of The Bad Brother

“How many times do we have to tell you, you dumb creeker sluts—we’re rednecks,” Sera yells at her over the din of the live band playingAmarillo by Morning.“Oh—and here are your friend’s shitty extensions.” She throws the wad of hair at them over her brother’s shoulder with a laugh. “Next time, I’ll shove ‘em down her goddamn throat.”

Left with nothing to do, Sera’s security detail reaches down to help the brunette off the ground while Colt and Sera disappear into the crowd. “I’m calling the police,” she says, face white, hands shaking, completely oblivious to the fact that they just had the county sheriff right in front of them. “There’s no way in hell I’m going to let some?—”

“I’d be careful about the next words that come out of your mouth, if I were you,” Cade tells her in a low tone. “Nobody in this place gives a shit who your daddy is and I promise there’s plenty more of my sister where she came from—now, you wanna call the cops—go ahead. Call ‘em.” He gives them both a shrug while he pulls two rocks glasses from the rack before snagging a bottle of top shelf tequila. “But it’s your word against hers.”

“The hell it is,” The blonde says on a scoff. “Everyone in this place saw what that crazy bitch did.”

“You’re in Barrett, darlin’.” Tipping the bottle oftequila over the rim of each glass, Cade pours a double into each of them on a laugh. “Nobody here saw shit.” Pushing the glasses across the bar, he shakes his head. “And my baby sister isn’t the only crazy bitch in here,” he says before jerking his head at the drinks he just poured. “So, maybe you should just let it go and have a drink on me before calling yourself an Uber to take you back over the bridge.”

Looking around, the pair of them blanch slightly when they notice the half-dozen women surrounding them, waiting for them to make a decision while halfway hoping it’s the wrong one. Properly reading the situation, the brunette lets out a loud bark of laughter. “Whatever.” Reaching out, she snags the double shot of tequila off the bar and downs it in one shot. “Your sister’s crazy,” she hisses at Cade before slamming her empty glass down on the bar. “And you’re a sick, wife murdering piece of shit.”

“Yeah…” Cade gives her a smirk before snagging the last double off the bar and downing it himself. “But you still came in here looking to fuck me, didn’t you?” Lifting her empty glass off the bar, he stacks it inside his own. “Matter of fact, youstillwant to fuck me, even after all that. Think that might make you sicker than I am.” The smirk he’s giving her turns caustic. “And like I already said—she wasn’t my wife.” When he says it, the brunette jerks back like Cade took a swing at her while the blonde opens her mouth, probably to spew enough insults to get the both of them dragged outside and tossed around like a couple of beach balls.

“You ladies get home safe,” I say, cutting the blonde off before she can really step in it. My tone makes it clear thatthis is their last chance to leave on their own. “Have a good rest of your night.”

“Fuck you.” The brunette backs away from the bar, taking her friend with her while she lifts a hand to jab a manicured finger at Cade’s face. “And fuck you.”

“Rather dip my dick in honey and fuck an anthill,” Cade call after her on a laugh. “You should ask your Uber driver, though—he might fuck you if you tip him enough.”

Giving Sera’s security detail another chin tip, I watch him follow the pair of creekers out the door to wait with them until their ride shows up. As soon as they’re gone and the crowd disperses, I turn to look at Cade on a sigh. “Remind me again why I hired you?”

“Because we’re family.” Dropping the empty glasses into the sink on a laugh, Cade give me a shrug. “Besides, I’m good for business—that crazy-ass sister of mine is another story, altogether.”

“Christ Almighty,” I bark out on a laugh because he’s not wrong. Reaching a hand into my pocket, I pull out my cellphone to check the time. It’s well after 1AM, rolling toward two. Sloane’s shift at the hospital ended hours ago.

She should be home by now.

Ignoring the queasy flipflop of my stomach, I remind myself that Ethan has no idea who she is. That he’s probably at the country club, blind drunk on our father’s tab, smoking cigars with his shitty frat boy friends. Unable to convince myself, I move further on down the bar, trying to gain some privacy before I pull up the app on my phone that’ll allow me to access the newly installed security cameras. Pulling up the feed, I’m just in time to watch the troublemaker twins feed themselves into the backof a Tesla. Relieved they’re gone, I scan the still-crowded parking lot for Sloane’s car while I hold my breath.

There.

Under the giant oak tree across the road.

Touching my index finger and thumb to the screen, I widen them to zoom in on a familiar red compact parked across the street, along the side of the road between a lifted F350 and an Escalade.

Still unsure, I switch the camera feed from the parking lot to the loft. Instantly spotting her bag on the kitchen island, I feel my shoulders sag. She must’ve slipped past me while I was dealing with Sera and Cade’s bullshit.

Sloane is home.

She’s safe.

Backing out of the app before shoving my phone in my pocket, I reach up to grip the rope tied to the tongue of the large brass bell mounted to the wall above my head to give it an ear-splitting ring. The sound of it is met with a loud, collective groan.

“You heard the man,” Cade bellows on cue. “We’re closed—drink up and get the fuck out.”

AFTER MY MEETING WITH DR. RAGNAR, MYnight got progressively worse. A bunch of kids got thrown out of the bed of a truck while playing chicken with another vehicle on one of the countless FM roads between here and Fort Worth. I spent the last eight hours of my shift doing a full pelvic replacement on the sixteen-year-old driver and an above-the-knee amputation on his fourteen-year-old sister.

When I finally got back to the Mill, it was packed. So packed, I had to park across the street. Navigating my way to the front of the long line of people waiting to get in, I give Austin a tired smile. We’ve been doing this for weeks now but I’m always worried he won’t let me in.

“Hey, Doc,” he says, dropping the arm he has braced against the wall to let me in. “Not sure Riv has time to talk tonight, it’s crazy in there.”

“That’s okay,” I tell him, ignoring the collective groanbehind me when it becomes obvious Austin is going to let me cut the line. “I’m too tired to do much except go upstairs and shower.” Like it heard me and disagrees, my stomach lets out a loud rumble, reminding me that I haven’t eaten anything but a yogurt cup since breakfast. I ignore that too. “Good night, Austin.”

Giving me a sheepish grin, Austin reaches up to touch the tip of his finger to the bill of his battered ball cap. “’Night.”

Leaving it at that, I push myself into the crowd, side-stepping and weaving my way across the bar while doing my best to aim myself in the direction of the staircase that’ll take me up to the loft. Passing by the crowded bar, I catch glimpses of a grinning Jensen behind it, popping the caps off a round of long-necks for a gaggle of cowgirls with stars in their eyes. You’d never know that he nearly bled to death on my kitchen floor, twenty-four hours ago.

Or that he fucked your throat after making you come so hard you forgot your own name while his best friend stood in the hallway outside your front door and listened to the whole thing.

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