her tea kicks into high gear. “You’re the best, Leith.”
“Yup, I’m the best,” I repeat her words. Smiling, I dinna feel the slightest pang of guilt while my drunken wife hugs me.
Chevelle prattles on in a drugged, lethargic tone. “You love to handle everything. I’m so glad you’re my alpha. Remember when I had an attitude, while reading about the dom?”
“Mhmmm.” I’m ignoring her while focusing on the screen. In a few minutes, I’ll have compromised the security system at Fausto’s condo.
Chevelle slurs, “This is calming tea. I should’ve made us a few shots. Fireballs. Our home’s on fire. I think you should take a few shots from between my legs. I’m ready for sex now.”
“Nae, hen.” I stop her shabby attempt to pull at my shirt. I’m switching the screens on my laptop when Fausto pops up. He’s on a live social media feed at a cigar lounge.
Chevelle’s clinging to me. The sound of her purr stiffens my cock. I bite her lip, returning to my task.
“Leith, I love taking body shots off your abs. You have the most beautyyy-ful abs. Hayyy, I know that lady.”
When I think Chevelle is about to go under, she plasters an index finger against the computer screen. Fausto’s showing off his bitch as she lifts a hand, displaying what looks like a cubic zirconia to me.
Again, Chevelle babbles, “I know her.”
“What do ye mean, hen?” I grab my wife, rattle her shoulders. Chevelle’s entire weight leans into me, yet she’s so tiny in my arms.
I read over the image description: Drinks with fiancée.
I click into the linked profile of a forty-something blond, whose name I can’t recollect my wife ever mentioning. What sort of relationship does Chevelle have with the woman?
Say they’re friends—good friends—will Chevelle feel guilt for murdering the woman’s fiancé?
The door bursts open, in walks my brathairs, Brody and Camdyn. The younger one is in a black leather jacket and gloves—the feckin’ works. The oldest looks like he hasn’t gotten the memo in sweats and house shoes.
“The feck are ye two doing?” I ask.
Camdyn rubs his hands together. “Mom said she’s proud of the three of us. I haven’t been home this many days straight in half a year. We’re bonding. Tonight, we’re off to bond again.”
Brody cracks his neck. “And I’ve not killed someone in a week, Leith. So, let’s bond.”
“From the looks of it, he hasn’t fucked the friend either.” Cam rolls his eyes while Brody roars how Justice is none of his business.
“Speaking of friends . . .” I hold a slumbering Chevelle to my chest, speculating her relationship with Fausto’s bitch. “Once Chevelle awakens, I’ve gotta ask her about this woman.”
Brody snaps. “Och, allow me. I’ll go grab a bucket of ice water.”
“Bro, that’s petty as fuck. Oh, but that’s payback for the cockblock?” Camdyn’s eyebrow lifts. “I’ll admit, you’ve been trying to apologize to Chevelle for ages. Now, she’ll feel your ice-cold wrath?”
Brody’s chest inflates. “Feck ye.”
Unflinching, our brathair retorts, “No, thank you. I could have a different bitch fucking me every night. Far as I recall, you could too, Brody. Now, Chevelle blocked all that pussy, eh?”
Brody rolls his eyes. “Ye done?”
“Almost,” Camdyn laughs, stepping closer to him. “Fat girls have super . . . soft . . . wet . . . cunts. So, I understand missing what you can’t have.”
Brody starts to take his turn when I snarl, “Wheesht! Do the two of ye see where this is goin’, aye? Shut yer gubs!”
The American sneers. “Hello, Leith! I’m defending your wife.”
“Get out,” I say to them both. “Still bickering like auld hags!”
Brody gestures toward Chevelle. “How’s Nosey Nora sleeping through it? Dinna say—”
“Aye, I gave her a little something.” I clear my throat.
“Benadryl,” Camdyn advises. “My idea. So, I’m chopping Fausto into tiny pieces with the sword this time. I made five grand in online gambling with the geek’s foot. I want two of the Italian’s feet. My playlist is ready.”
Brody glowers. “Cam, ye told him to drug his wife.”
“Lesser of two evils, bro.”
“Really?” Our big brathair crosses his arms. I tune out their arguing while searching the fiancée’s social profile for more information.
“What the fuck is with the holier than thou act, Brody?” Camdyn sniffs. “You all forgot what it feels like to live in a house with fifty kid brothers? Not me, so cut the pussy whisperer act.”
Though only half-listening, I chuckle. “Och, that was a good one.”
Even Brody laughs. It takes a while for our laughter to die down. I