“Where have you been?” Keane demanded.
“Uhhhhh . . .”
As Nat desperately scrambled for a believable lie, her rescue party stormed into the room.
“Why are you always so nice to her?” Dale demanded, asking in ASL and out loud.
Nat didn’t need to hear her brother’s voice to know he was putting in as whiny a tone as humanly possible. Why? Because his whining wore on their elder brothers’ every nerve ending. It showed in the roll of their eyes. The curl of their lips. The baring of their fangs. In fact, Dale could even whine through his hands. That’s how good he was at it.
Dale was only seventeen months older than Nat and, in some ways, they might as well be twins. They covered for each other whenever they needed, and she needed him right now.
“We do not—”
“You do!” Dale insisted. “You always baby her and you always come down hard on me! It’s not fair! It’s not fair how you always give me such a hard time! Why do you always give me such a hard time? What did I do to make you give me such a hard time? Mom!” he called out. “Keane is giving me a hard time again! It’s not fair!”
When none of her brothers said anything for a moment, Nat assumed her mother was yelling back, “You boys stop giving your baby brother a hard time!”
Nat automatically rolled her eyes because her mother was so protective of Dale and insisted on riding her ass all the damn time like she always thought Nat was up to something! As Dale pointed out, it wasn’t fair!
Keane pointed at her. “We’ll discuss this later,” he told her calmly because it was true. Her three oldest brothers totally did baby her and she loved it.
“See what I mean?” Dale went on, his hand gestures getting more extravagant. “ ‘We’ll discuss this later,’ ” he repeated with his hands but the expression on his face had Nat biting her lip so she didn’t laugh. “All nice and sweet to her! And all mean to me! Why are you always mean to me?”
Keane pulled his giant fist back but Dale screamed out, “Mooooom!” and seconds later Keane lowered that fist.
“Your weakness sickens me,” Keane snapped before shoving past Dale. Shay followed, slamming his elbow into Dale’s chest and sending the much smaller brother stumbling back several feet. Finn caught him before he could land on his ass but when he dragged him up, he made sure to slam him into the wall.
Rubbing his forehead, Dale whined, “Owww.”
Sorry, Nat mouthed.
Glancing into the hallway first to make sure they were alone, Dale closed the door and faced her.
“Where were you?” he signed.
“Out.”
He threw his hands up. His usual “I’m frustrated” move.
Nat held her own hands up and went back to the window she’d come through. She’d been sneaking her way in and out of the house since her brothers had purchased it. Before that, she’d been sneaking in and out of their old house since she was four. She’d learned a long time ago not to bring anything into the house until she was sure her brothers weren’t waiting for her.
She leaned out and grabbed the bag she’d left hanging from the hook she’d discreetly stuck to the side of the house.
Bringing the bag inside, she dropped it on her brother’s bed and opened it. With a flourish, she swept her hands toward it.
Dale looked inside and, his mouth open, immediately closed the bag, yanked it off the bed, and threw it in his closet. Shutting the door, he stood in front of it like he was trapping a wild animal inside, which was kind of funny since technically . . .
“What?” she asked.
“Where did you get that money from?” he verbally asked. He was so freaked out, he didn’t even bother with signing.
“What does that matter?” she shot back. She didn’t sign either.
He put a finger in front of his lips to tell her to lower her voice but . . . seriously?
“Are you stealing again?” he signed.
And she signed back, “When did I ever stop?”
That was when he threw his hands up in the air again.
* * *
Imani Ako stared at the paperwork on her desk, feeling less than enthusiastic about filling it out as Kip and Millie came into her office.
Millie had her arm around Kip’s shoulders and he was holding onto her as if she was about to pass out at any moment. They both had some blood on them and there seemed to be a wound in Millie’s leg.
Imani leaned back in her leather chair and waited for the pair to speak first.
“We have some bad news,” Kip said.
Millie was one of the copter pilots but Kip was the one who did the talking for the pair.
Imani nodded and continued to wait.
Kip choked back a breath before announcing, “We lost MacKilligan’s team.”
Leaning forward, Imani rested her arms on her desk and asked, “All of them?”
“Yeah. All of them.”
“Kip . . . are you sure? You need to be sure before I say a word to Charlie.”
“I’m sure.”
Imani gasped. “My God, that’s so shocking. Especially since they’re standing right behind you.”
Kip turned around so fast he nearly tossed Millie into the wall, but she managed to hang on. Unfortunate, since she only wound up getting punched in the face by Max, who hit her first with a strong right, then hit Kip with an equally strong left.
Was Max ambidextrous?
Max continued to pummel Kip until he was bleeding on the floor. After she had him on the ground, she grabbed Millie, yanked her up, and slammed her onto Imani’s desk.
“Oh, no,” Imani lazily complained. “All my paperwork is everywhere. Now I’ll never get it done on time. What a shame.”
Max climbed on top of Millie, straddling her on the desk, knees pinning the other woman’s shoulders so she could ram her fist repeatedly into her face without getting hit back. All while the rest of her team stood in the doorway and watched. They’d clearly been through hell. They were covered in blood and bruises and cuts. They smelled of full-human men and, weirdly, alley cats. Millie was canine and Kip a cheetah. So why the team would also smell like tigers seemed strange.
Honestly, though, the pair was lucky. They were lucky because Charlie MacKilligan wasn’t here. If they’d come back without Charlie’s sister and that lame “We lost the team” line . . . a good, solid beating would be the last thing they’d have to endure.
Charlie didn’t really waste time with beatings. Or, as Max liked to put it, “My sister doesn’t play with her food.”
With both Millie and Kip out cold and bloody, the honey badger crawled off Imani’s desk and gave a little shake of her head. Other than her bruised and blood-covered knuckles, Max wasn’t even panting from that workout.
“I don’t want to ever see them again,” she told Imani.
“You won’t. I don’t keep people who leave their teammates behind.”
Max returned to the others but they looked at her as if expecting something else, and she gazed back . . . seemingly confused.
“What?” she finally asked.
Her entire team gestured toward Imani.
“You want to ask about getting a raise now?”
“No!” Mads snapped. “The setup, dumbass.”