20
The bulky black pickup slid in behind Kyle’s truck, and a crop of dark hair emerged, followed by a set of broad shoulders. Ethan. Figured. Only someone with a death wish would pit themselves against him and my brother together. Probably the reason Nate had chosen him to send.
“You have got to be the jammiest bastard on earth,” he said, as he rounded the truck toward us.
I grinned. “Not jammy. I just had a decent defence.”
I’d ended up speaking to Nate myself on the phone. While he hadn’t been too convinced that I should get my own way, he couldn’t argue the case I’d thrown at him. That damage control needed to be applied. The police had been to the bar to check out that piece of my story. Chances were, they’d talked to more than just the staff, and that’d bring a whole lot more atte
