“Meh. It’s fine. I didn’t, but I still sent you guys there. That is on me, but I don’t care. I’m not actually calling to rip you a new one for doing what I wanted. I’m calling because I want to know when you’re moving on Harper.”

Bren pulled into the driveway. Jordan’s and Zellman’s trucks were already there, so I pulled up to the curb. Turning the ignition off, I sat there, my phone in hand. “Why do you have a hard-on for Harper?”

“Because he’s a dick, and he did something to Aspen.” His voice dropped, becoming low and dangerous. He was my own brother, and a tension ran through me. I found myself gripping the phone tighter as he added, “For that, the fucker’s going to bleed.”

Shit. My brother was scary.

I said, “You want the first hit.”

“Fuck yeah.”

I frowned. “Why now? Why use us to get at him?”

He was quiet a moment. “I’ve got my reasons, but know this. I’ve been jonesing for the right time to go at him. This is the right time. I’m in.”

“And Zeke?”

“Zeke’s my best friend.”

I raised an eyebrow. “You sure about that? This guy is in his fraternity. They’re called brothers for a reason.”

“Shut up.”

“No—”

“Shut up, for you. You’re showing your ignorance right now, but don’t worry. You’ll get it one of these days.” He didn’t sound pissed, just amused.

I cursed again, shaking my head. “You are annoying.”

“You know we’ll have to kill each other one of these days. There’s only supposed to be one of us.”

“What?”

He laughed. “Just kidding.” He hung up after that.

He didn’t sound like he was kidding.

And with that unsettling thought, I headed inside.

Jordan was going to go apeshit.

Chapter Nine

BREN

Jordan went apeshit.

He threw the recliner into the kitchen.

That wasn’t enough. He went for the other recliner.

That recliner went into the hallway.

The couch was flipped over.

“She—” He was red in the face, bending because he wasn’t content with the couch how it was. He flipped it upright, but shoved it toward the kitchen. I had no idea where he was going with it. “She—” grunt “—thought—” more grunting, shoving. The couch was now past the dining room table. “—she could whore herself out? For WHAT? FOR WHO?” There was roaring as he climbed over the couch and kicked open the back door.

Zellman, Cross, and I stood in a straight line. I think we were all of the same mindset, simply waiting for him to tire himself out.