“A time or two.” Or a hundred, Julio added silently.
Miguel smirked. “I heard that.”
Patrick rested his ankle on his knee and spread his arms along the back of the chair, his posture deceptively relaxed. “I’d never take a high-powered rifle to a clock tower. Too cliché.”
It sounded like diversion to Julio. “What would you take to a clock tower?”
“A hot chick and a six-pack?”
“Mm-hmm.” Miguel grinned. “Too bad Anna’s not a big fan of heights.”
“Fucking tragic,” Patrick drawled before pinning Julio with a look. “Get your brother out of my head. He’s not harmless enough for it to be cute.”
“You scared the hell out of Alec with your countrywide killing spree,” Julio reminded him. “It’s my pig of a kid brother or something even more invasive. Your choice.”
Patrick bit off a rude noise. “Don’t see why. That man knows all about countrywide killing sprees. When I was a punk kid getting started, he and his mercs were fucking legend.” He raised one eyebrow. “Which brings us back to how scary Franklin Sinclaire is.”
A favorite topic, and Julio saw no end in sight. “Guess I’ll have to keep my hands to myself, huh?”
“Or practice running for your life?” Patrick grinned, but it faded after a moment. “I’m kidding, man. You need a break. If this is the only way you’ll let yourself take one…”
“I don’t have time,” Julio muttered. “But I’ll make time for this. That bastard has put Sera through enough.”
Patrick stared at him for a heartbeat, then looked questioningly at Miguel.
Miguel snorted and finished his beer. “Fuck you, McNamara. I don’t like you enough for low-level recon, much less snooping on my own relatives.”
“I didn’t want you to snoop, jackass. I wanted you to tell him the truth so I don’t have to.”
Miguel bristled. Julio saw the punch—an ill-advised moment of anger that would end with a broken nose, no matter how much his kid brother thought he could handle the fight—so he stepped between them. “Out. I need to talk to Patrick.”
“You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“I’ll meet you at Mahalia’s.” Julio tilted his head toward the door. “Go.”
Miguel rose with a grumble. “You should’ve let me hit him.” He slammed the door behind him.
Patrick flinched. “Sorry. I shouldn’t give him shit.”
Julio waved away the words. “He’s still testing people, finding his place. You’re a badass bounty hunter, Patrick. That’s a pretty high measuring mark for a pissed-off kid discovering he has a few authority issues.”
“I don’t want to smash his face in,” Patrick grumbled, shoving a hand through his hair. “He’s still a kid, but that’s not going to save him for long.”
“I know.” It didn’t help that Miguel had been spending time with Anna—completely platonic time, much to his dismay. And he might have been immature in a lot of ways, but Miguel had never been slow. He knew as well as anyone where Anna’s attentions had already been fixed.
“You may as well go ahead and give him a fight, though. It’s what he wants.”
“I’m tired of fighting.” He shrugged and looked away. “Which doesn’t change what I was going to say to you.”
The truth, right. “Lay it on me.”
“All right.” Patrick leaned forward and braced his elbows on his knees. “The people in this town need you. But they don’t need you, need you, not most of the time. And if you give them the chance, they’ll use you right the hell up.”
“I thought you were going to tell me something new.” The words held no mystery for him—in wolf politics, giving a damn wore you out faster than anything else, simply because it was so rare. “Look, Alec has to be in New York for now, and Andrew’s got his hands full hunting down the new wolves who’d fall through the cracks otherwise. That leaves me.”
“If there was a real problem, something they needed you here to fix, you’d be back as soon as you could hop a flight.” Patrick shook his head. “It’s nice that you’re getting Sera out of town —God knows she needs it—but maybe she’s just the excuse. The reason you’re finally giving yourself permission to not be working every waking moment.”
“Spit it out, dude, because I’m not entirely sure what you’re getting at.”
Patrick snorted. “It’s not that you don’t have time. You won’t take it.”
Julio tensed. “Is that meant as a reassurance that the place won’t fall apart without me, or a roundabout way of telling me I don’t do as much as I think I do?”
“Shit, Mendoza.” Patrick swept up a pillow and threw it at him. “You do everything that actually needs doing. And then you do everything that people think needs doing. And then you do the things they want done. If you were any more accessible, you’d be mowing their damn yards.”
Maybe he had been overdoing it, but what else was he supposed to do? He’d spent the majority of his life ignoring what most wolves considered his responsibilities by right of birth.
“I’m making up for lost time.”
“Uh-huh. Or maybe your brother’s not the only one trying to prove something.”
Julio held both hands aloft. “I never said I wasn’t complicated.”
Patrick sprawled back, relaxed, as if he’d made his point. “Merely a piece of advice, from one workaholic to another.”
“So what about your vacation?”
“This is my vacation, man. Maybe I’ll help Anna chase that bastard around for a while. I might even put off everything else for a week or two and…stay in one place.”
Julio grinned. “You suck at the concept of downtime as much as I do.”
The man returned his smile. “Or we both just found reasons to chase pretty ladies.”
“We’re full of shit, aren’t we?”
“Yep.” Patrick inclined his head toward the suitcases. “We’ll hold down the fort. Get out of here and show that girl a good time.”
“Yeah, I think I will.”
Chapter Six
Julio had borrowed a convertible from someone.
Sera tossed her duffel bag into the back seat before sliding on her brand-new seven-dollar sunglasses. She was an absolute vision of gas-station fashion, with her braided pigtails covered by a black bandanna and her denim shorts barely visible beneath the hem of her too-long Saints jersey.
Not exactly the low-cut tops and too-short skirts she’d briefly considered, but it felt wrong to approach Julio in the seductive clothing she used to pick up men she only wanted to fuck.
Whatever she wanted from him was a damn sight more complicated than sex.
Too bad sex had become a driving urge in the days it had taken to organize the road trip.
Sera circled the car as Julio rearranged things in the trunk and muttered under his breath. “I need a gas can.”
“A gas can?” She leaned against the side of the car.
“Mmm, just in case.”
“Sounds fair.” She grinned at him. “Always good to have a spare gas can, a shotgun and a roll of duct tape, right?”
He affected a long-suffering sigh. “Don’t forget the road flares and chainsaw. Who taught you to road trip, anyway?”
“Obviously a novice.” Pushing up her sunglasses, she glanced in the trunk. “Anything else we need? I packed up some food for the road.”