He shook his head, giving me another assessing look, and then returning back to my brother. “Gramps and Bonnie said she could hold her own.”

“Damn right she can.” Channing came for me, his arms opened, and I stepped into them.

He hugged me, squeezing me, and I knew he was proud of me. He cupped the back of my head, and whispered before stepping back, “Jesus. Please just don’t die doing this work.”

I tipped my head back, a wry grin tugging at the corner of my mouth. “Back at you.”

Shared understanding and acknowledgement flowed between us.

We were both Monroes. We both came out of our home, no matter how broken it was, and we were here. We were both doing the same thing. We were at different points, but this was a commonality. I knew my brother needed the fighting, but so did I…and he knew that, too.

He cupped the back of my head one last time, and moved in. His lips pressed to my forehead. “Fucking love you, sis.”

I clasped him back, just hugging him.

Then he stepped back, letting me go, and a whole different look came over him. Edgy, wariness, and danger. It was strong and sudden, enough that everyone around us quieted, picking up something new was coming. At this, Channing grated out, “We need to talk about Dad.”

Chapter Thirty-One

BREN

After we took the bail jumper to jail, Channing and Moose met us back at the offices.

Justin was behind the register, helping out a group of guys and handing them their shoes. He watched us come in, all of us wearing our vests with an almost bored look on his face. Seeing my face, surprise tightened his features, and his head reared back a little. Then his gaze trailed behind me, and I knew he was seeing my brother. His eyes got bigger.

Then he hit Moose, and they were half-crawling into his forehead.

Yeah. Moose had that effect.

Gramps and Bonnie were there, both smiling wide when they saw Channing. There were hugs, greetings. A good pat on my back from Gramps. His hand took hold of my shoulder, and he squeezed in affection. “What’d I tell you?” He was speaking to Brock. “Told you she was a good one.”

Bonnie moved in, brushing her hair back before she gave me a hug. “So proud of you, honey.”

Hawk was grabbing some coffee.

Why they kept having me bring coffee in when they had their own coffee pot was lost on me, but then again, bought coffee always tasted better somehow. Big and Burly were in the fridge, pulling out food items when we filtered in.

Brock leaned against the wall, folding his arms over his chest. He hadn’t taken his vest off. No one had. He lifted his chin toward Channing. “I have to ask, you here for personal, professional, or both?” The real conversation piece was my father, and myself.