The windows glowed orange—a bad sign. He’d hoped Tess and his brothers had remained at the marketplace.
The kitchen was already warmed when he stepped into it, the round table occupied by Gunner and Donny. Isaiah went to Donny’s feet and puddled gracelessly. He panted up at them all, oblivious to the tension arriving the moment Patrick closed the door behind him.
He waited for either of his brothers to speak, and when they didn’t, he took off his coat, hung it, and said reluctantly, “Let’s have it, then.”
Gunner was tight-jawed. He looked at Patrick squarely when he said, “We had an agreement. No fuckin’ the swanks.”
Donny offered nothing. He seemed to sink into his chair, readying for a long argument.
Patrick merely tilted his head to the side, scrutinized his brother through his fur
