What Burns Between by Max Henry

Author:Max Henry [Henry, Max]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-01-12T00:00:00+00:00

26

DIGGER

Tyke steps out of his office, hand dragging over his face to end clutched around his short beard. He hesitates, a huge sigh rocking his shoulders before his gaze lands squarely on me. Fuck it. My big brother's eyes narrow, and he takes firm, deliberate strides to where I stand midway through the lounge area, tugging gloves on.

"Let's have it then." I jerk my chin to the side, fixated on the position of the suede around my fingers.

"You could have put a stop to it." He's close enough that I can smell the sweat mingling with the distinct tang of the road on his clothes. "On the fucking witch's broom?"

I breathe a sigh of relief when I realize he doesn’t reference Saturday night. She hasn’t told him. “It's a good bike."

"Was a good bike," he bitches. "And then I bought it for her. Ruined the day it rolled off the lot."

I drag my gaze up to his and frown. "How long you goin' to believe that shit about a curse?"

"You don't think she was?" Tyke lifts an eyebrow, arms folded high on his chest.

I jerk the Velcro strap tight on my wrist. "I think she was an opportunistic bitch who took off runnin’ the moment she got a whiff of a bank account bigger than yours."

He snorts, the slightest smile curling his lips.

"She alright?" I jerk my chin toward his office. Never saw Rae come out, so I presume she's still in there.

"She'll keep." His face falls. "Knee's a bit twisted up, but she doesn't seem shaken by the whole thing, so count yourself lucky there." He shrugs. "Last thing I need is her boltin' out the gate like a startled rabbit."

“Last thing you need, or last thing she needs?” He doesn’t answer, flexing his jaw. "I get the feelin' it takes a bit to spook that girl, anyway,” I deflect, fussing with the other glove.

He matches the sentiment. "She's got that air about her, ain't she."

"Reminds me of someone else we knew once." I wait a breath before glancing up at him.

Lips pressed tight, Tyke slaps a hand on my shoulder. "Lightning doesn't strike twice, brother."

I shrug and pretend I'm checking my pockets for my keys. Anything to distract from the taut feeling in my throat. Her death was the thing that drove me to join the damn club. After our father's relentless nagging, it took our sister climbing on the back of a drunk member's bike against her will for me to relent.

Not that I did it for him—our father. I did it for her and other women like her.

Tyke put the old boy in the hospital the same night for letting it happen. Called me up and had me drive to the emergency room to help him identify our sister’s body. Found my brother wandering the halls, hospital security on edge while they watched the six-foot man with blood on his shirt and face march back and forth down the length of the mint-walled corridor. The fucker who'd ridden my sister into a ditch? He never made it that far.

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