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he’s just making me sweat. Kurt is never one to let an opportunity to punish me pass by. He pouts until he gets what he wants, which is essentially a nonspecific assurance that the entire world does, in fact, revolve around him.
    He barks his acknowledgment of me a good minute and a half later. “What?”
    “Look, bro, I should’ve called again instead of leaving a message. And if I couldn’t get you, I should’ve just told them I had to get home to my brother.” Another pang of guilt as I push the one button I
know
will get him off my back for a few minutes—his pride. He hates that he needs help, that he needs someone to take care of him.
    Kurt spins around in his gaming chair, legs dangling limply in front of him, toes dragging lifelessly along the hardwoods. “Is that what gets you off, dickhole? Humiliating your poor crippled brother and using him as an excuse to get out of shit you’re not man enough to get out of on your own?”
    “So let me get this straight. Telling the truth makes me a dickhole.
Not
blowing off the people who are paying me to be here makes me selfish. Damn, dude, what do you want me to do, then?”
    His lean face is red with barely suppressed rage. I know the second I scored the winning point. His lips thin and his eyes narrow before he spins back around to face the television.
    “Whatever, asshole. Just try to keep your word a few times before I’m dead.”
    I shake my head and back out of his room, closing the door behind me. That’s as good as it’s going to get for a while, so I’ll leave that comment alone.
    As I walk back down the hall, my gut burns, like my tactics were acid and I just swallowed a huge gulp. I knew I’d feel like shit about using his pride (which was just about the only thing left untouched by his ordeal) against him, but my brother really needs to take his head out of his ass every once in a while. Sometimes things can get ridiculous. I mean, all this over me being a couple hours late? When I left him a message to tell him so?
    Seriously?
    I grab a premium beer from the fully stocked premium fridge and stand in the kitchen as I down the first one. My phone rings before I can finish. It’s Jasper, one of the men who feel more like my family than my own flesh and blood does sometimes.
    “Missing me already?” I ask, hoping this is a social call, but pretty sure that it’s not.
    “You’re not pretty enough for me. Now Tag on the other hand . . .”
    I laugh. Tag is the lady-killer of the four of us.
    Three
, I remind myself. Reid, our fourth brother-in-arms, was killed not too long ago. Someone knew his location and led a mercenary right to him. Our commander, Colonel Denton Harper, is still trying to figure out why he was killed and by whom. It’s verylikely it had to do with one of the government covert operations we executed, but until the Colonel tracks down some answers, we are all in danger. For that reason alone, I suppose it’s a good thing Kurt came with me to Enchantment. We couldn’t be any better hidden if I’d handpicked a place for us to go. We’re in the middle of nowhere in a town the size of my thumbnail. A stranger would stick out like a sore thumb here.
    “I’ll be sure to pass along your admiration when I see him.” Tag works a vineyard on the side of a mountain not far from here. I’m sure we’ll get together at some point.
    “Just calling to say that I got a new lead. Turned it in to the Colonel. Hope it gets us something.”
    “Me, too, man. You heading back to the states?”
    “Uhhh, not yet. It’s not safe yet and there’s . . . Well, I’ll fill you in later. But no, I’m not coming back yet. Hopefully it won’t be long before I do, though.”
    “Sounds good, J. Until then, watch your back.”
    “Watch
yours
,” he warns.
    “We’ll get this bastard.”
    “Yes. We will.”
    I hear death in his voice. I’ve heard it before. We all have. We’ve all done things we’ll probably never be able to talk