I glanced over at Hush sitting beside me in the truck, staring out of the window. I tightened my grip on the wheel and shook my head. I’d known the fucker for years, and I still couldn’t believe how he refused to let anyone in but me. Since Ky had told us we were assigned to watch his baby sister, Hush had closed in on himself, as always. Fucking locked himself inside the head that was a damn fortress to breach. And I knew why, but the stubborn asshole was too proud to admit the truth.
I sighed, turning up the radio. But it took about two seconds for me to get bored. I was a loudmouth, I knew it, and the fucking deathly silence from my best friend was killing me. “You get the stuff I left out for you this morning?” I asked. I knew he had. I watched him pack it, just to be sure. I just wanted to fucking talk. Wanted my friend back to the way he was.
Hush’s shoulders tensed, but then he muttered, “Yeah.”
I sighed in defeat, laying my head back on the headrest. We were about five miles out from where Sia lived: a little ranch, in the middle of fucking nowhere. It reminded me of my childhood home. More rustic and less refined, but a ranch was a ranch.
“At least there’s a gas station close in case I need hard liquor during all this, hey, mon frère?”
Hush grunted, but he kept his head away from me. My fucking chest squeezed when I thought of his face this morning. My brother was dog tired. And I knew that shit wasn’t good for him. His face looked paler than normal, and his blue eyes were dull as fuck.
Set off a shit-ton of warning bells inside my head. He was thinking too much.
It was Sia.
All of this, the moping, the silence, was because of the beautiful bitch driving alone in the truck up ahead. Fuck, I could barely think of her without wanting to wrap my hand in her long hair and pull her to my fucking mouth. Tasting her tongue, her tits pressed up against my chest. I looked at Hush from the side of my eye and knew the brother did too. Since we’d met her at Ky’s wedding, I knew on the spot I liked the bitch. Her damn sassy mouth, the confidence that oozed from her every move.
Her ass wasn’t too bad either.
My lip flicked up in amusement as I thought back to yesterday and the VP’s little “talk” he had with me and Hush . . .
“Shut the fucking door behind you.” Ky stood at the front of church, arms folded. Styx stood on his right, his face like thunder too. Hush was tense as he trailed behind. He shut the door. I slumped down to my seat and threw my hands up behind my head. I made myself real fucking comfortable.
Hush pulled his chair out. I smirked at his ramrod back as he stared at Ky, waiting for our VP to speak.
I brought my lazy gaze back to Ky and had to fight back a grin at how his eyes narrowed on me. “VP,” I said. “You wanted to talk to us?”
“Damn fucking right I did.” Ky leaned his hands on the tabletop, palms flat. “Neither of you are gonna go near Sia except to protect her.” Ky got straight to the point. I felt Hush grow more tense. I didn’t lower my hands from my head. I’d known this was coming.
“You watch her ranch. Take shifts in looking out for any trouble. Not an hour goes by when one of you ain’t looking for that cunt, Garcia. Got it?”
“Got it,” I confirmed, just before Hush said, “Yeah.”
Ky’s eyes locked on me. “She is my fucking sister. Not one of you two assholes touches her in any way, got it?” He quickly sobered, and then said, “She’s been through enough shit at the hands of a man. I ain’t gonna tell you the fucking minute details, but she was fucking ruined by that bastard. Ain’t even had a date since. She’s better on her own.” The cocky smirk I was wearing fell away at that bit of intel. Ky leaned further forward until he was almost at my face. “I will fucking kill anyone who hurts her again. And that ain’t a threat.” His eyebrows drew together. “And it sure as shit ain’t gonna be any of my club brothers. Especially the two sweet-talking Cajuns that have slut pussy creaming over their fucking accents on the daily.”
“Okay, VP,” I said in my thickest Cajun French. Just to see if I could turn Ky’s red face up a few shades more. I saw the guy’s hands roll into fists, but before he could start throwing them my way, Hush put his hand on my arm to tell me to shut the fuck up.
“Ain’t gotta worry about that, mon frère,” he said. “We ain’t going after your sister. We get it. She’s off-limits.”
Ky glared at us. As did Styx. Before Ky left church, he pointed in my face. “You better be listening to your best friend out there, Cowboy. You don’t wanna face me again if I hear you’ve been sniffing around my sister.”
I laughed to myself as I thought of the VP’s veins throbbing in his neck, as if he could read my thoughts about his sister on my face. Hush turned around, his brows pulled down. It was a permanent damn feature these days. “Turn that frown upside down, mon frère,” I instructed and pushed my fingers against his lined forehead.
Hush batted my hand away. “What the fuck are you laughing at?”
“Ky. Yesterday. His fucking tirade. The gris-gris he tried to put on our asses.”
Hush shook his head, exasperated. “We got it good here at the club. Don’t go fucking it up for a piece of pussy.”
I choked on a laugh. “A piece of pussy?” I winked. “Think I’ll tell Sia you said that when we pull up. Sure she wants to hear it.” Hush’s nostrils flared, and his hand went to his thigh and squeezed. It was how he calmed himself down. How I did if I saw it happening before he realized he was losing his shit. Especially in public.
I quickly lost my smile, and I blew out a long breath. “That’s it though, hey Val? She ain’t just any pussy, is she?”
Hush turned to look out of the window again. “She is, Aub. That’s what you can’t seem to get through your fucking thick skull.” He shook his head. “You just won’t let it fucking drop. All the winks and raised eyebrows, the damn tapping of your motherfucking Stetson anytime she’s mentioned or speaks to us. I told you before, and I’ll tell you again: I ain’t interested. Just end your fucking games.” His shoulders tensed. “You want her that bad? Fuck her. You want my written permission or some shit?”
“Fuck you, Hush.” I was a pretty laid-back guy, but him speaking like that raised my forever-dormant rage from a one to a good solid three out of ten. “You want me flying solo on this one, mon frère? It can be arranged.” He sat there, seething. I just let him. Fucking prick was as stubborn as an ox. First thing I ever noticed about him at sixteen years old.

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