Page 72 of Five Brothers

My phone rings again, and I pick it up without looking.

“Where are you?” Mars asks.

“I’m coming,” I explain. “I’ll be home soon.”

“Okay.”

“’Kay. Bye.”

“Will you be back tomorrow?” Army asks me.

I meet his eyes, the concern taking me off guard. I’m easy enough to replace.

I shake my head. “I don’t know. I—”

“We need to know,” Dallas cuts me off.

I start to back away, out the door. “I’ll try.”

“Don’t,” he replies, leaning back underneath the hood. “You’re replaceable. By a dozen girls who won’t bring me a cold cheeseburger.”

Army glares at him. “My cheeseburgers are always fine.”

“Probably because she wants to screw you next.”

Macon fits the head of the screwdriver into the bolt, not blinking as he twists it slowly.

It spills out of the notch. He puts it back in.

He breathes in.

Then out.

In. Out.

Little turn of the tool.

Another little turn.

Breathing in. Breathing out.

Army goes on. “Stop treating her like shit.”

“She knows how to hit back.”

Macon’s jaw flexes.

“Dallas, shut up,” Trace finally chimes in.

Macon squeezes the screwdriver. His knuckles are white. His hand shakes.

My stomach churns. Does he know we’re here?

“Come on.” Dallas doesn’t stop as he saunters up to me.

“Where’s the fire you had for Iron?”

“Leave her alone,” Army growls.