Huntsman - Morgan Brice Page 0,8

with Anthony. But he’s gone. You haven’t been yourself since then.”

“Because I buried my husband!”

Drew’s expression and tone were comforting, but his body language told Russ his brother wasn’t going to back down. “You didn’t have to bury yourself with him.”

Russ surged to his feet, but Drew’s cocked eyebrow stopped him in his place. Drew usually let Russ take the lead, but he could be stubborn as all hell when the fight was worth it, and it looked like Drew had decided to stand his ground.

Russ took a couple of deep breaths. Even now, just thinking about that night put a lump in his throat and brought tears to his eyes. He’d been on emergency duty with the fire department when a car wrapped around a tree after it hit black ice. Dispatch hadn’t realized who the victim was when they put out the call for an assist.

Some of the details of that awful night were still spotty. But not the shock and horror of recognizing the car, crowding forward as Anthony’s body was eased out of the driver’s seat, and the pity in the EMTs’ eyes as the severity of the injuries became apparent.

Russ remembered the random thought that had gone through his mind when the doctor called time of death. If we had been fated mates, I don’t think I would have survived.

“I can’t,” he said, hating how broken his voice sounded. Dammit—it had taken two years to start functioning again, to feel present in the moment instead of like he was drifting through a never-ending fog. To not feel guilty about laughing or enjoying a sunny day, or feeling horny—even though he met that need by himself. To not feel guilty for being alive.

“Can we not try to solve this right now?” Russ managed, as he shut the office door and sat back down. “Liam just moved here last night. And…even though he didn’t say so, I have a feeling that he’s worried about something.”

Drew leaned against the wall, frowning as if he were parsing out what Russ really meant. Russ knew that Drew had a lifetime of experience watching his big brother and learning his tells. They’d always been close, and that translated into a sense of each other that bordered on telepathy.

“You think he’s in trouble?”

Russ paused, but his wolf surged forward. “Yes. I don’t know why or how, but my wolf is sure of it.”

Drew shrugged. “Wolves are all about non-verbal language. You probably picked up on Liam’s scent. Is Liam a shifter?”

Russ just stared at him. “I’m not sure. He said he came here because Rich Jeffries told him about the job—turns out Jeffries was his professor in college.”

“Interesting,” Drew mused. He walked over to pour himself a cup of coffee and held out a cup to Russ, who nodded, accepting it like a peace offering.

Russ ran back over the events of the previous night, sifting his wolf instincts through his human mind. “Okay—I’d guess Liam is about thirty. But all he had in his car was a duffel and his computer bag. He’s moving here—permanently—with less stuff than most people take on vacation. But I didn’t get the impression he was poor—not if he went to Ithaca. And if he got hired to run the library, then he’s got to have a master’s degree, right? But everything he owns fits in two bags?”

“Maybe there’s more in the trunk.”

Russ’s gaze flitted to the side, avoiding Drew.

“Seriously? You broke into his trunk?”

“I had the key.”

“Russ…”

He huffed and then rolled his eyes. “Fine. Yes, I did. And no, it just had the usual junk, but not like you’d pack a car to move.”

“Maybe he’s got a moving van coming after he gets situated.”

Russ shrugged. “Maybe. But he didn’t mention it, even at the bungalow.”

“Why would he be in trouble? What kind of trouble wouldn’t have thrown a red flag on hiring him?” Drew asked.

“Jeffries seemed concerned about him too,” Russ said, as he began to see some of the previous night’s actions in a new light.

He leaned forward, cradling his cup in his hands. “I’m fucked. I can’t get the guy out of my head, Drew,” Russ confessed.

“Tell me all about it,” Drew said. “Except for the fucking part.”

Russ glared at him. “We didn’t fuck.”

“TMI, bro.” Drew perched on the corner of the desk. “If anyone asks why we’re in here, we’ll call it a management meeting. Kerrie’s at the front desk, so we’re not keeping any customers waiting. Now, spill.”

Russ recounted everything that had