My chest grew tight. “We don’t work like the Ryerson crew. There aren’t applications or written rules for us.”

“I’m not much of an ass-kisser, and I’ve got a feeling Alex isn’t going to be my biggest fan here.” The side of his mouth lifted. “Good thing I know how to fight.”

Yes, he did.

He seemed to have real training, not the rough-scraping most of the guys used in fights.

I was glad to hear about the bluff, but why do that? Why mess with us on the first day, then back us up that same evening? Only time would tell. And with that last thought, he was officially no longer my concern.

I nodded to where my guys were. “I’m heading back.”

The guys were still laughing with my brother when we got back, and everyone looked over as we approached.

Jordan extended a hand to Race. “Thanks for backing us up in there.” A cocky grin appeared. “Even though we’re the right choice, I know Alex is family to you.”

“Yeah.” Race shook his hand, glancing sideways at me. “Got a little advice on how to act moving forward.”

Jordan nodded, settling back against his truck.

I felt Cross’ gaze on me, but Channing spoke up, drawing my attention.

“Can I talk to you?” he asked me.

No. I sighed on the inside. “Yes.”

Things were stifled between my brother and me. That was the best word to describe it. After Mom died, he hardly ever came home, choosing his friends instead. Then Dad went to prison. And because he’d fucked up the financials so much, on top of his crime, we lost the house. It came down to me going into the foster system or with Channing. We had no other blood family in the area, no one who would take me.

Things were still…distant, on my part too. We’d been little more than roommates the first year and a half. It’d only been the last six months that he’d started to want to know more about me and where I was.

This talk right now was not something I wanted to deal with. He was in no place to lecture me. He’d gotten into worse shit younger than me.

He nodded to the side, and I walked away from the group for a second time.

“I know I said it before, but Heather’s not going to press charges,” he assured me. “Because of that, though, she’s responsible for all the damages. You and your guys need to help out, come in and clean, do a fundraiser for her or something to help with the repairs.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I can see that.”

It was a technicality that we’d started the fight. The real person who’d started it was Alex Ryerson. He’d cover the damages; he just didn’t know it yet.

“We’ll take care of it,” I added. “Don’t worry.”

“And apologize to Heather.”

I threw him a dark look. That was inevitable. “I know.”

His eyes narrowed, then he rolled them, shaking his head. “You drive me insane sometimes.”

I grunted. The feeling was mutual. “What else do you want, Channing? You could’ve yelled at me over the phone.”

His eyes widened. “What? You mean you would’ve answered it? You would’ve given me the time of day suddenly? Versus all the other days when you ignore that I’m even a part of your life?” He shook his head. “Trust me, I would’ve preferred to call and not hitch a ride with some guy I don’t know. I could have stayed back and tried to help Heather clean up your mess.”

I threw my head back. “It wasn’t my mess! Stop blaming me for everything that happens in your life!”

His eyes narrowed again, and a confused look flashed across his face. He rubbed a hand over his jaw. “Look. Just… I’m going to stay at Heather’s tonight. Maybe instead of you guys doing the cleanup, I’ll have my guys do it. You can owe me.”

The place needed to be fixed immediately. Heather needed Manny’s to be operating, so I understood what he was thinking. It’d take forever if Heather relied on us to fix it.

But owing my brother? I already hated owing him what I did: a place to stay, sometimes food, and any signature a guardian had to give for a minor. And now this? I didn’t want more on that list, but fucking hell.

I shoved my hands into my pockets and hung my head. “Yeah. Whatever. Just let me know what I owe you.”

“Dinners.”

I lifted my head. “What?”

“Dinners. Every night.”

Fuuuck. “You work sometimes.”

“You show up wherever I’m at. If I’m at home, dinner there. If I’m at the bar, we can eat in the back or in my office. If I’m at Heather’s, go there. Seven every night.”

“Come on.” My lips thinned. I glanced at the guys.

He caught my gaze. “Bring your friends. I don’t give a shit. You’re my sister. I get you for another year before you take off, and after that, I’ve got a feeling you’d rather I never see you again. So dinners. I get that from you now. That’s what you owe me.”

This wasn’t a debt I could pawn off on Alex.

I gritted my teeth, but there were other emotions mixed with my frustration. They all swirled together inside, and like every day over the last ten years, I just let them be. It would cost too much to try and unwind them all and face them.

“Fine.”

He nodded, patting me on the shoulder. “I’m not going to kid myself. I know you’re not coming home tonight, so I’ll see you tomorrow at seven. We’ll have tacos.”

Tacos. Lovely.

But it was. My stomach growled at the idea, and I remembered I hadn’t eaten since my burger for lunch. I’d only finished half before bailing out on Heather too.

“Okay. Tomorrow.” He stepped around me, patting me on the arm before calling, “Hey, new guy!” He lifted a hand to Race as he headed back to the group. “I need a ride back. You brought me here; you take me back.”

“What?” Race glanced around. “I wasn’t planning on going back…”

He trailed off as the guys started laughing.

I started after my brother and could see his head shaking, his shoulders rolled back. This wasn’t my brother being a pain in my ass. He’d used his cocky voice, the one he used whenever he was around his crew. That brother was charismatic, a leader, authoritative. I saw what everyone else saw. Channing had such a powerful influence on everyone in Roussou. He had started the entire system, but he did more than that. He protected our town too. I didn’t know the extent of it, because he didn’t let me know, but I knew shady shit went down in and around Roussou. And I knew it was his group that handled that all. He was revered, with good reason, but he wasn’t anyone else’s big brother. No one else was his sister. He walked away from me, and it was as if he shed his “big brother” skin. He needed a ride home. He wasn’t making any of us take him, for whatever reason. His target was Race, and whether the new guy knew it or not, he was going to do what my brother wanted.

Even I felt a trace of sympathy for the guy.

He had no idea that what Channing said went. Channing ruled. It was as simple as that.

Jordan laughed, clapping Race on the shoulder. “You’re shit out of luck.” He gestured to Channing. “You met the big brother tonight. He gets different treatment when he’s in that role. He’s not just Bren’s brother.”

“Who is he?”

Zellman began laughing, but Cross spoke over him, looking right at Channing. “He’s the godfather. If he says you do something, you do it. Bren’s the only one who can talk back to him. Because, you know, family.”

Race’s shoulders fell. “Okay.” He nodded to my brother. “I’ll take you back.”

They moved toward Race’s vehicle, and as they opened their doors, my guys went back to where I’d been standing. Except I was gone.

Cross had glanced at me, and I gave him the look. I’d mouthed, “I’m out” before stepping away.