COLT
“Well, well, well.”
The voice drags me back, smooth and sharp all at once.
The man in the chair watches Nic like he’s some lost f*****g prodigal son returning to the fold. A slow, sharp grin cutting across his face, making my skin crawl.
“If it isn’t our f*****g prodigal brother.”
I go still.
Brother?
I shift, eyes snapping to Nic, but his face doesn’t so much as f*****g twitch.
The man leans forward, resting his forearms on his knees, watching Nic the way a predator watches something caught in its teeth.
“Been a long time, Nic.”
Brother.
The word sticks in my f*****g throat like a bone.
Because Nic doesn’t have brothers.
At least, not any I f*****g know about.
And now I’m standing in some drug dealer’s den, in the middle of a goddamn strip club that feels more like a cr
