Chapter One
He burst through the front door. Wood rattled in the frame as he slammed and locked it before marching to the living room window.
Dawn peeked through the trees over the mountains, and he wrenched closed the heavy drapes. At the fireplace, he crammed twisted newspapers under the logs already stacked on the grate.
A tear trailed down his cheek, stinging the seeping scrape on his throbbing jaw. With a sniffle and a trembling hand, he struck the long blue-tipped match and held it to the kindling.
The fire crackled and spread.
Crossing the living room, he returned to the window and carefully peeked through slit between the curtains. No sign of witnesses. He fumbled his flip-phone from his back pocket to check the time and messages, only to find the glass was spiderwebbed, the gadget unresponsive.
Dammit.
He unbuttoned his soiled shirt and jerked it off his shoulders. The stench of earth, sweat and fear made him grimace, and he tugged off his boots and socks. Jeans and boxers were next, and he finished stripping by removing his undershirt.
Blood stained the thin cotton as he wiped off the lacerations on his knuckles. With the flames roaring high in the hearth, he tossed his clothes, one by one, into the fire along with the useless phone.
Naked and shivering, he sprinted up the stairs to the bathroom and cranked the faucet in the tub. His lungs pumped from the panic. He yanked the plunger to divert the water and stepped beneath the scalding spray.
The scratches on his neck stung. The bruises on his shoulder and ribs had blossomed a dark reddish purple. Squeezing his eyes shut, he pounded his fist against the tile.
The gash split, and new blood flowed down the back of his hand, dripping off the ends of between his fingers.
Sliding down the wall, he slumped to his ass in the tub.
Chunks of grime floated in the sickly pink water, circling the drain as he curled into the fetal position and wept.
Nikko Sanna chewed the inside of his cheek from the end of the bar at the Quicksilver Bar & Grill. Elbow propped on the edge, he thrust his fingers through his hair and hung his head. His scalp complained as he fisted the strands.
With probate done and the last of the legal papers signed today, he and Dion could finally put their mother's death behind them. And yet, nothing was ever that simple. The constant ache in his heart was proof enough.
Chugging the last of his beer, he tried dulling the pain and slammed the mug down on the counter. "I need another. And this time, I'll take a whiskey chaser."
"That'll be round number four." Randy gave him the stink-eye and grabbed the empty glass. Droplets sprayed as he dropped it in the soapy water. "Not too sure about you stumbling out of my establishment with a bad attitude and completely shit-faced."
"Last I checked, you weren't responsible for my sterling reputation." Nik tapped the leftover ring of condensation. "Make it a JD."
Randy shook his head, but tipped a frosted mug under the running tap. He slid over a shot of Jack Daniel's and returned to his routine of buffing the shine on the bar's glossy top.
Nik's Apple iPhone buzzed and he flipped it face up to spot a text from his brother.
Kennel's locked up. omw
ok
He tapped send and continued nursing his beer. As the eldest of two, Nik had been the executor of their mother's estate. Which meant, while he was at the lawyer's office, Dion had been stuck alone at the kennel, holding down the fort for the day.
Grabbing the shot, Nik brought it to his lips and dumped the hard alcohol down his throat. The whiskey burned his esophagus. Warmth spread and tingled his ears.
A chorus of feminine squeals came from the door, and he glanced to the left as two women greeted a smiling blonde who'd just arrived with her redheaded date.
Nik swiveled his stool, searching the grain-soaked recesses of his brain for where he'd seen her freckle-nosed face before. The blonde's date bounced on his toes and swooped toward the others, helloing everyone with a round of air kisses.
Okay, maybe instead of her significant other, the dude was one of the girls, after all. Not that she wasn't stunning enough to turn every guy in the place into her personal lap dog. But for some screwy reason, he found it quite the relief there were still women this in this town that automatically didn't come with a ring on their finger.
She withdrew from a hug with her dark-haired friend and locked onto Nikko across the distance.
Her cheeks pinked, lips curving with the hint of a smile. And three seconds of staring into her golden-brown eyes, he was ready to dive into those depths full throttle.
A huff reset the angle of his shoulders. But rather than alarm or the usual diversion of a rapid-fire blink, kindness remained centered in her gaze. Seemed weird he didn't know how to process her attention after the loneliness of so many years.
Her red-headed counterpart stepped back with a frown and steadily tracked her stare across the floor. His eyes landed on Nik and his brows rose. Lashes fluttering, he whirled toward the blonde and squarely planted his elbow in her ribs.
Jerk.
She flinched and joined the conversation as they moved to a window table en masse. Though that certainly didn't stop Nik from enjoying the view as he hunkered down and waited for his brother.
Jason Arbor slithered into Nik's peripheral vision and he gritted his teeth through a groan. "Careful, ladies. Satan just entered the building."
How in the hell had he missed that dick when he'd first walked into the bar? A sickening lead ball formed in Nik's stomach, rife with memories he'd be happier to forget. Becoming friends with Arbor was one of the biggest mistakes Nik would forever regret.
It didn't matter that he'd only been fifteen. How nothing but rumors had haunted his family since the news of his father's death. Lashing out at everyone…being a rebellious teenager on the hunt for drugs hadn't managed to fix a damn thing.
And Arbor had been right there to egg him on. Down every destructive step of that path.
Gulping his beer, Nik wished once and for all he could find a way to drown out the past. If it hadn't been for his Uncle Karl, he would've easily ruined his life…and in the process, forced his brother and mother to walk that same devastating path along with him.
A snake-like grin curled Jason's thin lips as he sauntered toward the blonde. Nik clenched his fists and muscle bunched in his thighs in preparation to hop off the seat.
The last thing he needed was to pretend to be a hero. Act as if he had any right to get involved. Tongues were already wagging about his mother's sudden passing and the reasons behind it last month.
It hadn't taken much for word of her accident to turn into speculations of suicide. If he stepped in now, Nik would be asking for trouble neither he nor Dion could afford.
The blonde tossed her head with a musical laugh and waved off a comment from the table. But with the way she was currently facing the window, she wouldn't notice that slimy weasel's approach.
Arbor scratched at the tribal tattoo on his right wrist, either jonesing or itchy from his high. The redhead guy finally glanced up just as Arbor set his hands on the blonde's slender shoulders and leaned down to nuzzle her ear.
Nik shot to his feet at the same time her friend ratcheted up from his chair. His maroon hoodie slipped off the barstool, and he let it lay there on the floor.
If the redhead didn't handle this in the next point-two seconds, Nik was diffusing the situation regardless of the risk or what anyone else had to say.