“Turn right here. It’s the second driveway on the right. The mailbox is attached to an exhaust manifold.”

Kane raised an eyebrow when I told him there was somewhere else I needed to go after we returned the airboat to the bait shop, but he didn’t argue. Maybe it was the tone of my voice when I asked, or maybe it was because I was subconsciously promising sexual favors. Either way, we were on our way to the scrap yard, and at least for a few hours, I could forget how big of a bust my idea to track down my brother was.

“This one?” He slows when Elijah’s mailbox comes into view.

I still remember the day we made it, and his dad backhanded him for using parts he could have sold. His dad died six months later, and not a single funeral-goer cried. Elijah and I come from the same kind of people.

“That’s the one.”

Before, I would have cringed at the thought of bringing Kane here, but we’ve already been to one of my brother’s cabins in the swamp. He’s experienced my airboat-driving skills and doesn’t seem to be looking at me any differently, so I’m going to chance it.

I’m willing to chance a whole hell of a lot to get my hands on a welding torch and some metal. Like a junkie rediscovering an addiction, I need my fix.

He drives through the open chain-link gate. “So, this is how you got your start? Welding metal together in a scrap yard?”

As he scans the rows of busted cars, I wonder if he sees them as potential, like me, or garbage, like most everyone else.

“Something like that.”

“I’ve spent a fair bit of time at scrap yards over the years. Can’t always find the parts you need to restore something old in a brand-new box.”

Something about his comment fills me with the strangest hope. He sees possibilities.

“Follow this track around to the metal building. We can park beside it.”

He nods, and we slowly roll through the aisles. “Oh, sweet. Did you see that Wagoneer?” Kane brakes. “It’s in rough shape, but I bet it has some good parts to bring another one back to life.”

“Who restores your vehicles?”

“I do a lot of the work myself. As much as I can, anyway. I don’t love rebuilding the engines, so I’ll farm that work out sometimes.”

“That must’ve taken years.”

He shrugs like it’s no big deal, but to me, it’s a huge deal. “Some I bought restored. Others, I just couldn’t walk away from. Like that Wagoneer. That’d be the start of a fun project.”

Warmth spreads through me.

“Eli would probably let you poke around, if you asked. He’s a shark when it comes to negotiating, though. Especially when he smells money.”

“I don’t think he’s going to smell money.” Kane glances down at his grease-stained T-shirt, torn jeans, and motorcycle boots.

When I first saw him in them this morning, I almost had a minor heart attack. He’s like a chameleon. But this wasn’t some kind of costume, like he was trying to blend into the situation. This is Kane being Kane. And apparently all he has to do is add grease and ripped denim to have me desperate to tear the clothes off him.

“Even in those, he’ll see it.”

“I can handle myself,” he says, and I have no doubt he can. The man is more capable than anyone I’ve ever met before. It doesn’t matter the setting, he gives off an air of confidence that’s sexy as hell.

And if I don’t stop thinking in this vein, we’re never getting out of this Tahoe.

I reach for the door. “Let’s go inside.”

---

“What the fuck, Tempe? You know better than to bring anyone here.” Elijah’s tone sounds straight pissed off as he tosses the angle grinder on the workbench and stalks toward us. “Who the fuck are you, asshole?”

Kane’s jaw tightens, and I suddenly wonder how badly I screwed up by not giving Elijah a heads-up that we were coming, because it looks like I’m about to witness a brawl.

“Don’t you fucking talk to her like that.” Kane steps in front of me, his hands clenching into fists by his side.

“I’ll talk to her however the hell I want. You’re in my house, on my property, and I make the rules here.”

“I’m sorry, Eli. I wasn’t thinking.”

Kane shoots a look at me over his shoulder. “Don’t apologize to him.”

He faces off with Elijah in the center of the large metal building. There are way too many potential weapons within reach, and I’m regretting my impulse to come here.

“You want to come into my house and talk shit? Think you can take me, tough guy?”

“Apologize to the lady.” It’s an order from Kane.

“I’m not apologizing for shit. She knows better. She doesn’t bring anyone here, and if she does, they aren’t leaving.”

Kane has a gun at Elijah’s temple before I even see him pull it. “Is that right?”

“Please, Kane. Don’t. He doesn’t mean to be a dick. He just can’t help it sometimes.”

Kane doesn’t even look at me. “No one talks to her like that. I don’t give a fuck who you are or how many cars you chop. I will bury you in your own backyard, motherfucker.”

There’s a long moment of silence, and I wonder if Elijah is going to break or if I’m going to have to grab a wrench to swing at both their heads before someone does die.

“Fuck you,” Elijah grits out.

Great.

“Stop. Both of you. Please.” I look at Elijah. “He’s protecting me because Rafe got into some bad shit. Mount’s orders. He’s not going to say anything to anyone.”

“Temperance,” Kane starts, but Elijah’s eyes widen as he looks from me to Kane.

“You’re one of his fucking lackeys, aren’t you? Think you’re a big shot because your boss owns downtown?”

“I’m nobody’s anything, but if you don’t apologize to Temperance, then I’ll be the guy who gives you a world-class beating as a lesson on how to treat women before I end you.”

“Eli, apologize, goddammit!”

Elijah must hear the desperation in my tone, but I have no doubt that Kane will follow through. Elijah may be a hotshot in the bayou, but Kane is in a whole different league.

“Sorry, Tempe. You know I didn’t mean it.”

“I know.” I shift my gaze to Kane. “Please put the gun away. We’re all on the same team here.”

“You mean Team: I’ve Nailed Temperance?” Elijah says with a smirk.

Oh my God! How stupid are men sometimes?

Kane pulls back the hammer.

“Kane! Please don’t.”

“The only reason I’m not pulling this trigger is because she asked me not to. Apologize again and watch your fucking mouth.”

Elijah meets my gaze, and there’s a small measure of sincerity in it. “I’m sorry, Temperance. Please ask your guard dog not to kill me.”

“He’s not going to kill you. You don’t need killing.” I say it with confidence and know I’m speaking the truth. “This isn’t his style.”

“If he doesn’t keep his mouth shut, he might prove you wrong,” Kane says as he lowers the gun.

Elijah backs up, readjusting his shirt and taking Kane’s measure. “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised that Mount sent someone to protect her. Who the fuck are you, anyway?”

“Does it matter?”

Elijah jerks his chin. “Want to make sure she’s safe.”

I expect Kane to tell him to go fuck himself, but he doesn’t.

“They call me Saxon.”

If I thought Elijah’s eyes widened before, this time they look like they’re about to pop out of his fool head.

“No fucking way,” he whispers, looking from me to Kane. “He’s a goddamned hit man, Temperance. Not a bodyguard. Jesus Christ.”

“I know. It’s fine.” I step closer to Kane, hoping to present a united front. Almost as if he can’t help it, his arm curls around my waist.

“It’s not fucking fine. You don’t know who he is. They say he’s never missed a mark. Always delivers.” Elijah shifts uncomfortably, his gaze bouncing between us. “Never not completed a contract, so he gets paid mad money.”

Something unsettling takes up residence in my gut at Elijah’s fear and awe. I look up at Kane. “Is that true? You’ve really never not completed a job? So, Rafe . . .”

Elijah stares at where Kane’s hand rests on my hip. “Wait, you’re telling me this guy took a hit on your brother? And you’re . . .” He waves a finger between us. “Fucking him? You’ve gotta be kidding me.”

Kane tenses beside me, and I know I have to defuse the situation before it turns explosive.

“I’m not explaining myself to you, Eli.”

“Well, you should explain it to someone so they can tell you how fucked up this is.”

“End of subject. Unless you’ve seen Rafe. That would be helpful to know.”

Elijah’s jaw sets in a stubborn line, and for a moment I think he’s not going to reply.

Finally, he shakes his head. “No. I had a job I thought he might want, so I texted him. No answer. Not for over a week. I figured he finally got busted and I just hadn’t heard about it. What kind of bad shit he get into, anyway?”

“Long story.”

Elijah shrugs. “Figures. Even a Ransom’s luck can’t last forever.”