Hunting Human - Amanda E. Alvarez [19]
“Would you stop hitting the fucking potholes already!”
Braden pulled to a stop at a light and turned to his brother, anger vibrating through every muscle. But the words poised on the tip of his tongue slid back, thick and choking, to lodge in his throat. Chase sat hunched over on himself in the passenger seat, what little color he’d gained in the warmth of the car draining from his face. Braden sighed. The only thing worse than arguing with Chase, was arguing with him when he was tired or hurt. And right now he’s both.
“Is it so much to ask that you take care of yourself? Do you have any idea what it would do to Mom and Dad if you had died out here?” It was a low blow, but this was an old argument he was determined to win, no matter what it took.
“I know what I’m doing.” The protest came out tired and halfhearted.
“I know. And I’m not asking you to go back to school if that’s not what you want.” Braden wished with every fiber of his being that Chase would go back to school. His life could be so much more. “I’m just asking you to take better care of yourself.”
No reaction. No indication his brother was even listening. Chase just turned his face to the window and stared listlessly out the glass.
Fine.
“I don’t want to have to go home someday and tell Lucy you aren’t coming back.”
Chase didn’t turn to face him but Braden saw him squeeze his eyes shut in the reflection on the window, and then jerk his head once.
Good enough.
Impatient honking behind him snapped Braden back into traffic in time to pull through what was left of a yellow light and straight into another rain-filled pothole.
“You’re aiming for them, aren’t you?” Chase asked through clenched teeth.
“You bleeding on my leather?”
Chase leaned back into the seat and closed his eyes. “Nope.”
“Then I’m not aiming for the potholes.”
A smiled ghosted across Chase’s face.
“You said Jason’s tailing Markko?” Braden asked, redirecting the conversation.
“Yeah.”
“Okay, then. Jason can handle that for now. We’ll get a couple of others to come and help out if we need to. You can take a few days to rest.”
“It’s not that bad. The gash tore when I shifted. I’ll be fine in the morning.”
“A few days rest at my place won’t hurt you.”
But they might kill me.
Chapter Seven
Beth sprayed down the counter and began wiping in quick strokes. Anything to keep her occupied. Every time she had a spare moment a tempest of nerves snared her, dragging her under thoughts that swam in whirling circles.
“Nervous about tonight?” Angie asked, as she walked out of the kitchen.
“What?” Oh God, is it that obvious?
“Well, you’re either nervous or trying to wipe all the varnish off my bar. That’s the third time in the last hour you’ve sprayed it down.”
Crap. Beth stored the cleaning supplies back under the sink. “Maybe a little, it’s been a while since I’ve dated anyone.”
Angie turned toward her and raised one perfectly penciled eyebrow. “Is that what you’re doing?”
Heat infused Beth’s cheeks. “Well, I guess. I mean, we’re going to dinner.” A slick wave of dread coursed through her. “Is that a problem?”
“If it is?” Angie kept her tone casual, but the hand she planted on her hip hinted at a challenge.
“I…” Unsure how to respond, Beth snapped her mouth shut. She liked Angie, considered her both a friend and a good boss, but she didn’t like the direction of this conversation. She liked being pushed around even less.
Beth squared her shoulders, met Angie’s gaze and prayed she wasn’t about to get fired. “I’m sorry, Angie, but it really isn’t any of your business.”
“Good.”
Torn between relief and indignation, Beth forced her jaw into forming words. “What?”
“Well, I didn’t want to have to fire you for being a pushover.” Angie’s eyes sparkled with amusement. “I’m sorry.” Angie reached over and gave her limp hand a quick squeeze. “Braden’s like family. He grew up with my boys. I guess I just wanted to gauge your interest.