Adrian picks up a steak knife, and stabs it through my brother’s hand, all the way to the table.
Holy fuck.
Derek cries out in horrific pain and the brother in me wants to rescue him, but Adrian isn’t looking at him. He’s looking at me. “What the hell?” Derek demands. “Get it out! Shane, get it out!”
I don’t move, my gaze locked with Adrian’s cold, brutal stare, as he says, “Shut up,” to Derek, “or you will not like the results.”
I discreetly slide my knee to Derek’s, giving him a silent warning, and he sucks in a trembling breath, saying nothing else.
“Where were we?” Adrian asks, his hand leaving the knife, which he doesn’t even attempt to remove from my brother’s hand. “Oh yes, where Mike Rogers fits in. If our answer is that he doesn’t, let’s buy him out. Whatever the price, I’ll pay it.”
And there it is. Adrian is now exactly where he wants to be, setting himself up to own a piece of Brandon Enterprises. “I’m not selling you any part of my company.”
“Then I’ll go to him directly.”
“My father was never an overly honest man,” I say. “He got away with a lot of things, and recently I saw him in action, and was reminded that he is a king for a reason. Much like your father. Let’s not be the two dead brothers.”
He narrows his gaze on me. “You know about my brother.”
“And you now know about mine. This is going nowhere good. This will destroy us both.”
“We’ll take a three-month breather,” Adrian says. “We’ll let things cool off.”
“Three months is nothing to the FBI and don’t you think they will look at what prescriptions Brody was taking? That’s going to tie back to us.”
“He had a legitimate prescription.”
“So will others who end up dead.”
“No one has died,” he insists.
“Brody.”
“That was a car accident.”
“You and I both know that’s not true and this is death number two the FBI is looking into. Real drugs covering for illegal drugs have a trail you can’t avoid. In premise, this was a good idea, until you find out where it leads, and that’s to you, then your father.”
He considers me for several long seconds, his expression unreadable, while Derek’s heavy breathing fills the air. “You’ve become far more profitable to me than you know.”
I feel those words like a punch in the chest. “And far more of a liability than you know.”
“We’ll rotate drugs.”
“They still lead back to you and me.”
“We’ll find a way around it.”
“We won’t.”
“I’m not walking away from the money. You’re smart. You’ll find a way to protect us, like your father always protected your business before you.”
I lean forward. “Like our fathers protected our businesses,” I say, making sure he gets the point. “And they survived, and continue to do so, by knowing when to stay out of something, or when to get out, when they were already in.”
“Find a way to redirect my sales, and I’ll get out, but not until then.”
My lips thin. This is not the solution I wanted, but it’s at least an option. “I need to know what you’re doing, and how you’re doing it, in order to do that.”
“If you can’t figure it out, then neither can the FBI. Figure it out. Get me out with money in my pocket, and we’ll be passing friends. And control your bloodline or I will.” He rips the knife from Derek’s hand, sliding out of the booth, and leaves us with blood everywhere.
I grab a napkin and steady my brother’s arm, holding it when it trembles, wrapping his hand, before grabbing another napkin. He doesn’t stop me. He hardly moves and is clearly in shock, blood already seeping through the napkins. I grab my tie, loosen it and pull it free, to create a tourniquet around his arm.
“Don’t move,” I say, standing and walking to the hostess booth, where the woman behind the counter gladly supplies me with more napkins and the scissors she has at the stand. Derek still isn’t moving or speaking, and I cut cloth and wrap it around his palm, tying it off this time.
Derek’s gaze meets mine, his eyes pure bloodshot hate. He stands up and takes two steps before he sways. I am there before he falls, catching him. Still, he doesn’t speak, and I focus on getting him the hell out of here before Adrian makes a further example of him. I manage to get him out the door, and when he shoves away from me and starts walking, he falls again. His weakness and pain, no matter how we’ve grown apart, guts me, and I drop to a knee by his side. My hand goes to his back, and he arches forward, managing to push to a knee. “Get the fuck away from me, Shane. This isn’t over. In fact, it’s just begun. He doesn’t want out. He’s not getting out.”
“Derek! Oh God. Derek!”
I look up to find Teresa, Adrian’s pretty brunette sister, rushing forward, and she’s on her knees in a heartbeat. “Please tell me my brother didn’t do this to you.” Her hands are on his face, and it’s clear she cares about my brother and will take care of him.
“He needs to get to the hospital,” I say.
She looks at me. “Yes. Of course. Can you help me get him—”
“No,” Derek growls. “No help.”
I inhale and let it out, pushing to my feet, and walking to my car, my legs weak from the rush of adrenaline surging through me. Digging out my keys, I click the locks and slide into the driver’s seat, staring forward, the sweet scent of Emily fading into that of blood and betrayal. I don’t let myself think about it just yet, needing to get past a visit to the BP facility that will be expected to uphold this failure of a fa?ade. I start the engine and drive to the facility. I barely make it in the front door before Lana has thrown herself into my arms, hugging me.
“Oh God. I can’t believe this is happening.”
Irritated that I’ll now have to explain to Emily why I smell like a woman she knows I once fucked, I grab her arms and pull her off me. “Why are you even here at this hour?”
“I’ve been auditing records later at night, checking up on that problem you and I discussed. The problem that brought the FBI here.” Her eyes go wide. “Oh my God. Why are you bleeding?”
I don’t blink. “It’s not me. My brother cut his hand and at this point, I have no idea why the FBI is here, but you keep your mouth shut.”
She gives me big puppy-dog eyes. “You know I would never betray you.”
In other words, she would. “We’ll talk tomorrow.”
“Okay,” she says, all innocent when she is not. “Tomorrow.”