And that plan slaps me in the face the moment I see a pickup truck pull up. It’s my brother. Climbing off Gunnar’s bike, I frown at the sight of him at my place. Not that I’m upset to see him, but more confused.
When he opens the door and jumps out of the pickup, I watch him, waiting for him to make his way toward me, but he doesn’t. Instead, he walks around to the bed of the pickup, and that’s when I realize why he’s really here.
Boxes.
He takes out a stack of moving boxes.
Shit.
It’s really happening now. I’m slapped in the face. It slams into me. It’s over and done with. It’s all really,reallyhappening, and there’s nothing I can do about it. Axton walks to my front door and places the boxes down, leaning them against the wall before he turns to face me.
“You just getting home?” he asks.
I open my mouth to answer him, then snap it closed because I’m not quite sure how to respond to that. Thankfully, it’s Gunnar who speaks instead of letting me open and close my mouth like a fish out of water.
“I got trashed last night at the clubhouse. Didn’t want to take Lainey home like that, didn’t want her here alone, so she stayed down there.”
My brother’s eyes widen, then narrow slightly, and I brace for the impact of his questions. No doubt he’s got them; I can see his brain working overtime. And not only as an older brother but also as a cop. Not much gets past him, generally speaking.
When he doesn’t say anything, I tilt my head to the side and watch him. He shrugs a shoulder, then walks back to his truck and grabs another handful of flat boxes. I watch him, wondering what the hell is going on, when he goes back again and comes back with a plastic shopping bag.
He thrusts the bag against my chest, and I wrap my fingers around it as he releases it so it doesn’t fall to the ground. He’s acting a little odd. I want to ask him why, but I’m honestly afraid of what the answer could be, so I don’t say anything.
“That’s tape and markers for the boxes. I can have the prospects move them to your new place when they’re finished… wherever that is.”
Sadness washes over me at the tone of his voice. I don’t like the sound of it. He seems defeated. Reaching out, I wrap myfingers around his wrist, squeezing slightly as my gaze searches his for a moment.
He doesn’t say anything.
Instead, his lips twitch into a smirk, the saddest smirk to ever have appeared on his face. My brother has a great many emotions, and I’m pretty good at reading his expressions. Anger and happiness come equally to him, but this is new. This is one that isn’t seen too often. He doesn’t show it, but right now, he’s giving it to me, all of it, and it’s breaking my heart to see him wear it.
“Thanks,” I whisper.
He flicks his gaze to my hand on his wrist before he lifts his eyes back up to meet mine. Pressing my lips together, I try to think of what to say to make this situation better, but nothing comes to mind, probably because there’s nothing I can really say.
I can’t make any promises. I can’t apologize. I can’t do anything but stare at him and hope that he understands as much as he says he does. I’m not sure I would believe him anyway at this point, not with the way he’s looking at me.
“I’m not going to say shit else,” he grinds out. “I’ve said what I need to say. Except I’m going to leave you with this last thing, and then that’s that.”
“Yeah?” I ask, my voice coming out in a choked whisper.
“You ever need a fucking thing, I’m your brother,” he begins, then dips his chin so he’s a bit closer to me, and then he whispers, “I’m your brother, and I would fucking kill for you, Lainey. Don’t ever forget that. Family before anything… and I mean that.Anything.”
He takes a step backward, my hand falls from his wrist, and I watch as he jerks his chin toward Gunnar. They stare at one another for a while, or at least Axton stares over my head, and I assume it’s at Gunnar.
“See you later. You need me to come relieve you, let me know,” Axton states.
There is a moment of silence, then Gunnar speaks. “I won’t,” he states.
My brother’s lips twitch into a smirk. “Yeah, figured you’d say that.”
I’m glad he’s no longer looking sad, but when he shakes his head once, he lifts his hand in a wave and turns around, walking away from us and back to his truck. I watch as he climbs inside, starts the engine, and then he’s gone.
VIKING
The boxes in the corner of the living room make this shit too damn real. I frown at the sight. I can hear Lainey taking a shower in the distance, and I should be in there with her, fucking her, but I can’t take my eyes off the boxes.
She’s leaving.