He turned to leave the kitchen, but Harley spoiled his smooth exit, sliding between his legs to wind about his ankles. Quinn did a fast quickstep around the cat, his hand slapping at the counter as he flailed to keep his balance, but he recovered enough to stride into the living room where he’d left his coffee.
As usual, Kane followed. Not as usual, his older brother remained silent until Quinn had his first sip of his now lukewarm coffee. Kane paced—a common enough thing for Kane to do. They all had their quirks, things they did when they needed to think. Connor brooded, his eyebrows beetled together until they looked like some odd avian mating dance across his forehead. Their mother, Brigid, picked at her nails, and Donal moved his mouth to one side, as if caught in midswish while using mouthwash. Quinn knew he bit his lower lip, but he wasn’t going to give Kane the satisfaction of seeing him worry.
Instead he drank his coffee and waited.
He didn’t have to wait long.
Quinn gave Kane credit. He used every single comforting, approachable trick they’d taught him, from sitting down diagonally from Quinn to turning his body inward, minimizing his bulk and making him appear receptive. Quinn knew better. This was, after all, the man who’d once stapled a brad through a towel and into Quinn’s shoulder when they’d wanted to play superheroes.
“So… Rafe.” Kane stumbled over his friend’s name. Giving up any pretense of calm, Kane scrubbed at his face, then sighed. “What the fuck, Quinn?”
“Not your place, K,” Quinn reminded his brother. “And… he brings color, you know?”
“Not a fucking clue,” Kane admitted softly. “I came over here because I was worried about you.”
“I’m not a fragile, delicate flower.” He cut Kane off before his brother could object. “Not anymore. Not for a long time. It’s just that you all refuse to see it, and I don’t know what to do with that.”
“Doesn’t mean I can’t worry. People you knew died, Q. Died. Murdered. And we don’t have a fucking clue who’s doing it. Hell, I can’t even convince Berkeley PD that it’s all connected. So I let you go—”
“You don’t let me do anything, Kane,” Quinn asserted, laying down as much steel in his voice as he could. His brother’s eyes met his, and they had a brief battle of wills, a silent, deadly skirmish Quinn knew in his guts he’d have to win. “And I swear to God in heaven, if you don’t get that by now, I’m going to punch your face in. You might have some weight on me, but right now, here while you’re in Rafe’s house, you’ve got nothing to say on this, understand?”
A moment passed and another. Then Kane shifted in his chair, giving way. Nodding, his brother said, “Fair enough. All right, then. You left with Rafe, and that was the last we heard from you.”
“I left a note. And there were texts,” he replied softly. “Then I turned off my phone. Because, brother mine, I don’t want family intruding on me. Or Rafe. I told you I was fine. He told you I was fine. What more did you need? What more did you want?”
“Rafe’s….” Kane stalled, sputtering to a stop before forcing his way through again. “God, Quinn…. Rafe. Rafe. Rafe Andrade.”
“Yeah, I’ve met him,” Quinn drawled. “Little bit taller than me, blond, and one of your best friends. One of mine too. Hell, one of my few friends. Someone I can count on to make me laugh and forget I’m a bit fucked-up in the head.”
“Ain’t nothing wrong with that head of yours, Q. I like how it works just fine. Hey, K. Not that I mind you dropping by, but how the fuck did you get in? Security didn’t buzz through.” Rafe strolled out of the hall, his hips rolling in a cocky swagger. He stopped long enough give Quinn a fierce kiss, stole a gulp of coffee, then jerked his head toward the kitchen. “Any more of that?”
“Most of the pot’s left. Kane didn’t want any.” Quinn’s head swam from Rafe’s tongue sliding over his lips, and no amount of breathing seemed to calm the flutters in his crotch. “Wait a second. How did you get in, K?”
“Flashed my badge and told them I was doing an emergency cat-food run for my friend’s visitor,” Kane tossed back. “I was okay with it until I got up to the door. Then I was pissed off about it.”
“Yeah, I’m kinda pissed off about it.” Rafe’s frown competed with the twinkle in his eye. “Security and I are going to have a discussion—”
The door buzzer startled all of them, and Rafe’s scowl deepened to the point where his humor fled.
“Now who the fuck? Seriously, they’ve got one fucking job to do, and that’s keep people down there until I clear them.”
“Rafe.” Kane shook his head, hunkering over his hands. “God, Quinn… just…. Rafe.”
“He’s never been just Rafe to me, Kane,” he replied softly. “You know that. And now he does too.”
“Shit.” The man in question paled as he stared at the screen. “I’ve really got to ream out security.”
“Who is it?” Kane craned his neck to see over the back of the couch. “Con?”
“Worse,” Rafe muttered darkly. “Your mother. Before I let her in, you wanna go get a beer?”