I know I’m in for a really shitty shift when I come in and hear a familiar voice yell, “Hey, Lucky!” from the corner of the bar.

I stop dead, squeezing my eyes shut, the euphoria from that kiss with Julia vanishing like smoke. There’s only one guy around anymore who calls me that, and I never wanted to hear from him again.

I open my eyes and look over to the voice, and see my big brother Daniel leaning toward me from his seat at a corner table. Older by almost twenty years, with gray in his hair, but with the same dress and manner that I remember. He’s grinning wide enough for the scar on his cheek to crease like a bad seam in his leathery skin. Not again.

“Give me a sec.” I send a beer over to him to mollify his alcoholic ass, then check in with my boss, Eddy, who nods at me and twitches a small smile as I approach. “Hey, I’m in for the night. Any problems? Like with him?”

We both look over at Daniel, who is still grinning—obviously drunk—his face red beneath the road tan and his overlong curls sticking wetly to his forehead. He looks like me if I was a foot shorter, ate nothing but cheeseburgers and booze, and got beat a few times with the ugly stick.

He’s also an asshole. But he’s family, and he knows I make sacrifices for my loved ones. So the first thing I wonder is what he’s here to ask me for, and how much trouble he plans to cause until he gets it.

“That guy? No problem, except he should probably be cut off about now. He’s kind of a jackass, but I saw the resemblance, so we didn’t throw him out.” My boss offers a lopsided smile.

“I wouldn’t have taken it personally if you had thrown him out,” I admit. “I’ll go deal with him. Yell if you need me.”

He nods, likely knowing it wouldn’t be necessary. Being in prison has left me with an instinct for trouble. Even if Daniel wasn’t my brother, I would still be keeping a closer eye on him than on anyone else in here, for just that reason.

He’s smirking as I walk over. It’s all I can do not to grab him by the collar and haul him off his feet—and as he sees the look in my eyes, the smirk fades. “Hey,” he says in that used-car salesman tone that he uses when he wants to talk me into something. I’d hoped never to hear it again.

“What the hell are you doing here, Daniel?” I demand in a low, hard tone as I walk up to him.

In response, he pushes out the chair across the table from him with his foot. “Just a little talk.”

I take a deep breath. Eddy’s watching us like a hawk between serving drinks, in case I need backup. I need to keep this job. I smile tightly, settle into the seat and then say, “We shouldn’t be having a conversation at all.”

He chuckles. “I’m hurt. Yeah, yeah, I know, you said after everything you did for me, you wanted out of the business and me out of your life. I get it, I do, and I know you’re a stand-up guy. Not every guy will do a dime and change for his brother.”

I stare at him. “The deal was, I do that for you, and then you walk out of my life and take the gang and all your crazy baggage with it. The drugs, the guns, everything you dragged me into when I was fifteen and too dumb to know better.”

“Oh yeah, I get it, I do. And you got a pretty raw deal in prison, or so I hear. Only got one working kidney left, isn’t that right?” His voice has a wheedling tone of mock sympathy to it.

“Yeah, that’s right.” I lean forward, knowing three things: I’m bigger, fitter, and tougher than him; he’s on my turf and drunk as hell; and he owes me way, way too much to be coming back for another favor now. “Now, once again, why the fuck are you bothering me? Are you dying? Is Dad dying?”

“I don’t know. Old bastard doesn’t talk to me anymore.” He shrugs nonchalantly and takes a deep swallow of his beer. “And I know he hangs up every time you try to call. Doesn’t he?”

My mouth works and I look away. He’s right on the nose. Dad married his high school sweetheart, went to church every Sunday and broke his back at a construction job. He taught me joinery, how to carve a chain from a stick of wood, and how to frame a shed.

He’s career military, retired now. A patriot. A good man. He doesn’t deserve two trouble-making sons, both of whom are convicted felons now.

He used to think I was a good man. But when I went down for Daniel after he beat the hell out of that banker, Dad didn’t care that they had the wrong brother. After all, I didn’t fight it.

He never once called me when I was in jail or on probation, and after enough hang-ups, I gave up on calling him.

“Wow, that really did hit a nerve, didn’t it?” Daniel tugs on his pointed chin, his eyes full of sly mockery. “So I was right.”

“I don’t know if he’d talk to me if I called him now. I haven’t tried in years.” I keep my voice neutral, ignoring the gutted feeling that thinking about Dad always leaves me with.

That seems to surprise him. “Thought you planned to go legit after we parted ways, get back in his good graces.”

“There’s no getting back in Dad’s good graces after all the trouble you dragged me into.” I blame Daniel for about eighty percent of it anyway. I could have said no. I could have run, could’ve let Daniel and the Laughing Boys hunt me. I could even have fought back and gotten my ass beat.

“No, probably not,” he replies thoughtfully. “But that cat’s been out of the bag for a while, hasn’t it?”

“Just fucking spit it out, Daniel. Why are you here?” It occurs to me that if I grab the son of a bitch, bash his head against the table a few times, drag him across the floor by one leg and pitch him out into the snow, everyone else here would simply ask me what he did. But I don’t. I’m just not that guy any more.

“I’m here to take you back with me,” he replies simply.

I stare at him. Balls. But that’s Daniel—all balls, no sense, and absolutely no honor. I thought he had disappointed me for the last time when he left me to rot in jail without paying my bail and fines. It seems I was wrong. “No.”

He cocks his head. “Wait, did you just tell me no? Do you have any fucking idea who you’re dealing with here, baby brother?”

I push my chair back and stand, stepping around the table, looming over him. He hasn’t seen me since I was that scared kid headed into jail. He has no idea what the past eighteen years have done to me—I was thrown into the pit and I climbed back out with my fingernails. That changes a man. “Do you?” I ask him softly.

It slowly seems to dawn on him that things have changed a bit. His eyes widen, and he goes quiet for a moment before smiling up at me. “You’re right, I do owe you big. And normally, I would leave you alone just like you want. But I need you down south, baby brother.”

I shake my head. “No deal. I’ve got a life here now. I am not giving it up to follow you into the mouth of Hell again.”

He starts to argue—and then his head snaps around to focus on the door as it opens, the bell on it ringing. His eyebrows go up, and I quickly turn to look.

Oh shit.

It’s Julia. Beautiful, sweet Julia, bundled in her one good coat, a scarf covering her hair and throat and tucked into her collar. She looks around for me, and I wince. Crap. Not now. Not while Daniel is here!

She sees me and her face lights up; she takes a step in my direction, and then her face falls in confusion as she catches sight of Daniel. Quickly she goes to the bar instead, and I let out a small sigh of relief. I’ll deal with her after I deal with my brother. I just hope he hasn’t noticed that—

“Friend of yours?” he asks almost teasingly.

Shit.

“Well, well! Cute little piece of ass! What is she, twenty? No wonder you don’t want to leave!” He gets up and starts sauntering past me, headed straight for Julia.

I grab him by the arm and just stand there solidly. He stops short—and the sudden realization that he can’t move past me or pull his arm free shocks his attention away from Julia. I look past him; she is watching us with a worried expression.

“What?” he demands, getting a little loud. “I just want to introduce myself.”

“You are drunk and an asshole. She’s a nice girl who doesn’t need your kind of problems anywhere near her. Leave her alone.” My voice drops to a growl at the last, and he gives me a shocked look.

“Holy shit, you really must like this piece of tail.” He moves back to his chair. I let him go and he sits down. “Who is she?”

“None of your damn business.”

He laughs. “You know I’m gonna find out.”

My blood runs cold at his threat, and I lean down into his face. “What you’re gonna do is go the fuck back to New Orleans and leave me alone. I already did more for you than you ever deserved, just so they wouldn’t lock you up and throw away the key. That was the last thing I’m ever doing for you.”

His smirk fades. “I’m in serious need here.”

“I was in serious need when I ended up in the system without anyone to visit me or throw me a lifeline. Nobody in the club, none of my family—not one of you so much as sent me a damn Christmas card.”

“You want me to get you a Christmas card? Is that what this is about?” His drunken bravado sets my teeth on edge.

“This is about you leaving.” I rub the bridge of my nose. “I gave you most of my life, Daniel, between the club and what happened. I’m done with that. You gonna shoot me for that, like you used to threaten? Go right ahead.”

He gives me a mock look of shock. “I wouldn’t dream of harming my own brother, even if he is being a giant ungrateful fuck who forgets who practically raised him.”

“You get my point. Just go, Daniel. You’re not wanted here.”

He scoffs and stands, doing his best to stare me in the eyes. “So that’s it, huh? You want me to do this the hard way? Because I can still do that. You talk about how you’ve built a life here? Well, that’s fine. Maybe I’ll just destroy every part of it, and then you won’t have anything tying you here.”

There’s ice in my veins now. My hands clench at my sides. “You can try,” I growl back. “But you’ll fail. And it’ll cost you.”

He starts heading for the door—with me following right behind him—laughing hollowly the whole way. “We’ll see,” he replies, and looks back at Julia one last time before I practically shove him out the door.