Dance Around - Susi Hawke Page 0,23

It’s bullshit. Hell, I wouldn't even know when Dear or Gibby had their heats in the past. You know, when they were young and unmated and therefore incapable of self-control? The only clue I had was them disappearing into their bedrooms for a couple days and blasting music so nobody could hear whatever went on in there. Naturally, they used blockers, as well. And not once did they ever need one of their parents or alpha brothers to protect them or give them permission to do their job or anything else they wanted."

Snickering, Gil grinned, pretending to shoot me with finger guns. "God help you or anyone else who tried to tell Dear or Gibby what to do." His hands dropped to his lap as his smile morphed into a frown. "Why couldn't you have talked to me like this twenty-three years ago?"

Lifting my shoulders, I held my hands out helplessly. "Because I was an idiot without an active editor in my brain? I didn't mean anything I said the way it came out. I just… I don't know. I was nervous as hell, I was thrilled to have found you, and I was completely in awe of your beauty, brains, and poise. Even while your heart was breaking, you made it through your mother's burial with far more dignity than I would've in your shoes. It was obvious how much the brood depended on you. And to know you were meant to be mine? I felt completely unworthy, although I came off as cocky and idiotic."

"Thank you for being there when my mother died. I've never forgotten your support. And it’s probably the reason I didn’t kill you when I was really angry. Plus, my stupid rabbit wouldn't let me. You came off as nothing more than another dickhead alpha full of piss, vinegar, and a healthy dose of toxic masculinity." He waved his hands as if unable to articulate exactly what a fool I'd been. "And now you say you noticed how the brood depended on me, but back then, you acted as if I was incapable of running it."

I was doing my best to listen more than talk, but I couldn't let his comment pass. "That's not true, Gil. I'm sorry it came out so badly. Honestly? I thought, and still do think, running the brood is a big job for one person. I don't care how capable you are. And yeah, okay. I was selfish and wanted it to be only the two of us. At least, at first, anyway. When I pointed at your brother, I wasn’t looking for an alpha. I picked the first person to pass us and shoved my foot in my mouth in the process."

Gil let out a loud snort. "Maybe so, but you were unlucky enough to pick out the last person capable of doing my job. Marvin, God rest his soul, didn't have the sense to come in out of the rain. I loved my brother to pieces, don't get me wrong. But even his death is a prime example of his failure to think things through. Mind you, he was trained as part of the fighting squad—not a marksman. But I couldn't keep him from hunting in his spare time, could I?"

"Nooo…" I was afraid to hear how the story ended.

"Oh, yes. Some of the brood were on a hunting trip, and Marvin's shotgun jammed. Bless his heart, the damned fool actually peered down the fucking barrel—and took a face full of buckshot a second later when it fired. We had to have a closed casket, as I'm sure you can imagine. I have nightmares about the call I got when he died to this day. Now he's a cautionary tale we use when training our younger cousins in firearm safety. ‘Don't be a Marvin’ is the ending of every safety warning." Gil chuckled humorlessly as he shook his head. "Wow, call me Mr. Mood Killer. I always forget how awful his story is until I retell it."

I'd heard of different brood members dying over the years. Hell, I'd seen or heard of them dying on jobs. Brushing off a body count was a lot easier when I wasn't looking into the face of their family member. Not simply a family member—their leader. “I'm sorry for your loss, Gil. Not only Marvin, but all the brood members you've lost over the years. I can't imagine how heavy their deaths must weigh on your shoulders, when you're the one