“There’s nothing to talk out, Da,” Quinn argued, but he shoved past his brothers to put his jacket up. “Kane’s got the crazies.”
“Simon’s dead, Quinn. That’s not the crazies,” Kane retorted. “I’d ask Rafe here to talk some sense into you, but that’ll be like….”
“Hey, now, standing right in front of you,” Rafe protested as he followed them into the large main room beyond. “And who’s Simon?”
“His ex.” Connor’s voice dropped deep, a granite whisper rolling through the grass. “Don’t know how much of an ex he could be if they never had sex. Two years. No sex. Who does that?”
“Wait, Quinn has an ex?” His voice carried through the space, and Quinn frowned. “Not that you can’t have an ex, Q. It’s just… dude. Guess in my mind, you’re still that kid tagging along behind us.”
“I haven’t been a kid in a long time, Rafe. I’m skipping past thirty. Thought we’d had that discussion, you and I.” Quinn slapped Kane’s arm when his brother rolled his eyes. “You laugh like you’re so old there, K. But need I remind you, there’s only two years between us.”
“It’s ’cause you’re wee,” Kane shot back.
“Compared to the lot of you, maybe,” Quinn countered. “In the real world, I do just fine.”
“You do fine here too,” Rafe muttered to himself, and Donal shot him a look from under thick black lashes. “Can someone back this up a bit and tell me the whole story? Or do I just fill in the blanks on my own?”
RAFE SAT on one of the long couches and listened, stroking at the son of an old marmalade alley cat he’d found and brought to Brigid years ago. As the cat purred, Rafe’s heart stopped and started, then stalled as Kane laid out Quinn’s narrow escape from a rampaging truck, then a slashed-apart tire. Connor’s pacing picked up when an explosion was mentioned, connecting the road rage to the assault on Quinn’s life. Simon Kappelhoff’s death was the final straw for Kane, and he’d spent the last half hour trying to convince Quinn to hole up somewhere until Kane and the other badge-wearing Morgans figured things out.
It was like Kane didn’t even know his younger brother.
“Okay, now keep in mind, I’m not the cop here,” Rafe started to say.
“Probably the exact opposite,” Connor muttered. “But sure, you go on there, Andrade.”
“Thanks for your vote of confidence there, Connie.”
He ignored Con’s middle finger, knowing Donal would take care of it for him. A second later, Connor was shrugging and mumbling out an apology that sounded more forced than a man complimenting an ugly baby.
“How did we get from the fire thing at Quinn’s house to it being someone killed Quinn’s ex? What connected them?”
“I’m connecting them,” Kane snapped. “Southern’s the cop house that pulled the truck, but they’ve done jack shit about it. I want to pull it all into my house. I’ve got more faith in that cat you’ve got in your lap there, Rafe, than I’ve got in the desk jockeys running Q’s case.”
“Probably should have some more protection on him,” Connor suggested. “Truck and fire’s one thing. Dead is escalating things fast.”
“Can we stop for a second?” Quinn cut them all off. “That’s not the point of it. Simon’s dead. I had a couple of incidents, but none of that means I’m going to take a leave of absence and go hide away someplace. Not going to happen. I have classes. I have a fucking job—”
“One you can put on pause, can’t you?” Kane moved in, edging into his brother.
Rafe did not see the confrontation ending well for Kane. He silently wished his friend luck and kept his mouth shut, hoping beyond hope none of Kane’s blood splattered on him once Quinn struck.
“What? Because I’m not a cop? Because I don’t carry a badge and gun?” Instead of backing up, Quinn stepped in, lowering his voice until the eerie calm of it rolled softly over Kane’s anger. “If it were you, brother mine, would you tuck your tail between your legs and run off? I didn’t see you packing up Miki like he was a china doll and shipping him off somewhere safe—”
Connor snorted. “Oh, I’d pay to see that.”
“Money’s on Miki boy,” Donal agreed. “Quinn, back off your brother and take a breath. Kane only wants what’s right by you. He’s scared. Can’t blame a man for being frightened for his brother.”
“No, but I can blame him for trying to unman me because of it,” Quinn replied. “I’m sorry Simon’s dead, but we don’t know for certain he died because of me. It’s been two years since we’ve even spoken to one another. Hell, we work on the same campus, and I haven’t seen him since we—”