of his paint-splattered smock.
“No news from your brother?” Sean stared down Seb. Aside from the little games my brothers were playing, some of them had trust issues with Seb. Matt and Sean, to be specific.
“No.” Seb shot him a frown. “I was hoping you’d have news on Ben.”
“Nothing yet.” Sean’s tone was brusque. Hard. But he’d spent a lot of time in the desert and he’d seen things that made his voice that way.
Hunter sat so close to me I could hear every pop when he cracked his knuckles. “I’ve got some contacts at the headquarters looking into the details about your missing brother.”
We all stared at him, and I waited for more information, but he was busy slicking his blond hair back behind his ears to notice. When he looked up, he almost jumped from all the eyes on him. “What?”
“Says the FBI agent…” Matt mumbled, and Seb snickered.
I rolled my hand at Hunter, and he finally got the message. “Oh, right, yeah…there’s no info. Ben is in the wind.”
We let out a collective sigh.
“No missing persons reports?” I asked.
“No. No injury accidents involving a DC man in his thirties or any identified man in his thirties who can be traced to Seb. No John Does who fit his description.” Hunter shrugged. “In the wind.”
Sean grunted and crossed his arms over his chest, and Hunter shot him a look.
“Oh, you think the Marines would have a better time tracking Ben down?”
While they bickered about the finer details of state surveillance, I kept my eyes on Seb. After a week of settling in, he looked relaxed here now, sitting cross-legged on the low ottoman in a bright-patterned button-down and jean shorts, and stark white ankle socks that made him look somehow even more adorable.
“How’s your wrist?” Owen nudged Seb and spoke quietly, as if he didn’t want to draw attention to it.
“It’s almost good, I think.” Seb rotated his wrist then rubbed it. “Hey, I’ve been meaning to thank you…for saving my life.”
“Ah, don’t mention it. Besides, you were dead when I was around. It was the talented Dr. Carlisle who brought you back.” Owen winked at me, and I looked away, caught eavesdropping.
“So, what do we do? Keep looking for this guy through the official channels?” Matt’s voice lifted an octave.
Seb sat up and set his jaw as he spoke to Sam. “What’s going on with the laptop we got from Ben’s house? Any luck recovering data from the hard drive? That’s got to be our best lead…”
“Waiting for our computer technician.” Sean didn’t bat an eyelid. And he had answers, even if they weren’t ones I particularly liked.
“Reaching out to some other underground contacts, too,” Matt said. Ah, the power of teamwork, of having a group of guys who wanted to do their part to help
“Nothing we can do until then.”
Seb opened his mouth to speak but shut it. Richie started instead. “So, until then, what can we do to help?”
“Yeah, I keep barging in here ready for action, and you just get me to do the dishes while you two watch those weird-ass commercials for those knives that cut through pennies.” Eli pointed at me, then Seb, and back again. Braxton cackled and Richie howled.
“Who needs their pennies cut up? Anyone here? Need a smaller penny? I’m your man, your boy’s got a knife for the job.” Braxton mimed sawing through a tiny penny which set the rest of us off.
“Hey! They’re infomercials, and they’re super fun to watch!” Seb huffed as his face turned red, which just made them laugh harder.
“Okay, honey. This isn’t a hill worth dying on, but you do you.” Richie patted his shoulder, and Seb laughed.
“Can we focus?” I wrapped my knuckles against my empty cheese plate and continued when the group gave me their attention. “Seb’s apartment is still trashed. Matt, you’ve been staking it out, right? Any sign of anyone poking around?”
He nodded. “All clear.”
“I can help clean it out.” Eli raised his hand, and I was relieved that the brothers understood the situation. It wasn’t safe for Seb to go back there yet, let alone to spend days clearing out the trash.
Owen, Braxton, Hunter, and Richie followed Eli’s lead and volunteered to help, while Seb did a double-take.
“Wait, what?” Seb sat up straight and waved his hands. “No way. You really don’t have to. It’s my mess, don’t bother—”
“It’s cool, dude. We’ve got it.” The argument from Braxton was almost enough to placate Seb, but he looked at me,