Page 51 of Borrowed Pain
"If they can't find you, they'll look for leverage. Family members become targets when the primary subject goes underground. The best way to protect your brothers is to ensure you have backup they can't eliminate."
"You're saying they'd go after Marcus? Michael? They're not involved in any of this."
"Neither were you, until you started asking questions about Iris." Rowan released my arm. "Professional killers don't distinguish between willing participants and stray targets."
My brothers had experienced their fair share of harrowing situations. I'd even gone along to lend… to help. Still, they had no idea their youngest brother was standing in a stairwell discussing professional killers.
"Matthew," I said finally. "He's... he might be able to help."
"The paramedic brother?"
"He has a partner, Dorian, a security consultant." I pulled out my phone to type a message. "They live in a converted warehouse, a lot like yours."
"Can you trust them?"
"With my life." I had no doubts about the loyalty of my brothers. "Matthew would burn down half of Seattle before he'd let someone hurt family."
Rowan nodded. "Make the call. Don't text."
We reached the lobby, and I hesitated with my phone halfway to my ear. Once I involved Matthew, there was no hiding the risk. It would be a family crisis, with all the protective chaos that entailed.
"You sure about this?" I asked Rowan.
"I'm sure that standing in your compromised building's lobby isn't a positive long-term survival strategy."
The phone rang twice before I heard Matthew's warm and slightly confused voice.
"Miles? You didn't text."
"Matthew." I glanced at Rowan, drawing strength from his steady presence. "I need help. Can't explain over the phone, but I need somewhere safe to stay tonight."
"What kind of help?" The warmth shifted to sharp concern. "Are you hurt? In danger?"
"Not hurt. But yes, danger." My voice cracked slightly. "I'm sorry to drag you into this, but I don't know where else—"
"Stop." Matthew's voice cut through my apology. "Address. Now."
"I'm at my apartment, but we need to leave—"
"We? Who's we?"
I glanced at Rowan, who nodded encouragingly. "I'm with someone. Rowan Ashcroft. He's... it's complicated."
"Is he the danger or the help?"
"Definitely help. Matthew, I know this sounds ridiculous, but someone's been watching me and listening to my therapy sessions. Michael knows. We found surveillance equipment in my apartment."
"Come to ours. Now. Don't take main streets, don't stop anywhere, and call me immediately if you think someone's following you."
"Matthew—"
"Dorian's already pulling up security footage from the street cameras. We'll be ready." His voice softened. "Miles, whatever this is, we'll figure it out. Just get here safe."
The line went dead. I stared at my phone, processing what had just happened. No questions about why I hadn't called earlier. No demands for detailed explanations. Only unquestioned support.
"Family sounds useful," Rowan observed.
"Family is terrifying," I corrected. "You'll understand when you meet them."
