Chapter 8: Into the Lion's Den

Colin's POV

Saying that I was worried about Rory was an understatement. The comment last night about him and our prisoner worried me.

When I had asked my twin how was Chris in the sack I did not expect what he would say.

"Like a fucking drug," my brother said pushing his hands through his hair. That was a tick he always had when he was nervous or anxious. I could not blame him. We all had demons to fight and Rory's led him to a dark corridor.

"Shit," I said. "Noah and I heard her from the living room. The girl's got a set of pipes on her." Rory laughed at the comment. I was hard just hearing her moaning and screaming for my twin. The lucky bastard I thought, but seeing him now I was worried.

I wanted to ask him if he would be alright but I stopped myself. He had been through worse and every single time he had us to fall back on.

I told my brother good night as I headed to bed.

I passed by Chris's room and thought about checking on her. But I knew it was a bad idea. Rory, Noah, and I had noticed that she was good at putting up a front. Anything I asked her to know would be answered with anger or silence.

I went to my room down the hall from Asher's. I kept the lights off and shed my clothes sleeping like I came out, bare. I let the silence take over as I fell asleep. I prayed that my nightmares did not haunt me this go round.

That morning after outing my brothers I was not surprised to hear Asher tell us all that Christopher was off limits.

No one argued. We all knew that there was something she was hiding.

After begging Noah for breakfast I lost my appetite hearing that Malcolm would be here to help with the books. My aggravation grew when I heard his voice come out of the elevator.

Thank Christ Asher told me that I would be away from this fucker today. Noah was probably the only one who could deal with the lunatic.

" 'Ello boys," I heard the daunting voice coming through. "Did you miss me?"

Fucking Hell. Just what we did not need. This fucker. Standing a few inches shorter than me and my brothers. Malcolm was an angry little red-headed ginger standing at 5-11. There were days when I actually he had a short man's complex and a bit of anger issues. Put a guy in this fuckers hands and he will find a way to either set shit on fire or blow it up.

He jumped over our couch and leaned back with his arms spread out like he was home. I shook my head as I saw that Rory had come back into the front room. No doubt he had out all the weapons in the armory. Well besides the ones that we kept on our persons. Malcolm was no longer allowed to carry anything from knives to guns after he got drunk and almost shot off an ex of Colin's ear.

I laughed because I was just as drunk as he was but I was not trigger-happy. I had been horny.

"So what mischief are we getting into this evening boyos," Malcolm said as he looked at me.

"Rory and I are patrolling the docks." I shrugged as Rory passed me my personal duffle bag. Today since we would be close to the sea neither of us was wearing suits. Dark jeans, comical T-shirts, and high tops for Rory, while I had on jogging pants and a tank shirt. I had matching high tops except where Rory's were red mine were blue.

As we made our way to the elevator I could hear Malcolm shout, "Buzz kills," as we left. I shook my head.

My brother has his eyes closed, no doubt using his calming techniques. "Don't worry," I assure him. "Noah can handle Malcolm."

He shakes his head. "I am more worried about our spitfire meeting Malcolm." He let out a groan of frustration.

"The perv has a type, and she does not fit it." I laughed.

"True," my brother sighs as our lift hits the parking garage of the loft. We have floors that we own in the building. The parking garage only has our cars and assault vehicles. I am still shocked that Christopher was able to take down a man three times her size. And handcuffed.

The level floor is the entrance to the club that we own while the second and third floors are the club itself. Asher made sure that all stairwells from the clubs to our penthouse were sealed. The last thing he wanted was someone wandering in.

The top floor is our home designed by Noah. He put his architectural skills to the test with designing everything. I was still shocked that he did not take Asher's offer, but in truth none of us took it.

I tossed my bag into the truck of the black jeep. I had a message from Malcolm but ignored it.

Then Noah messaged me.

Malcolm met our hellion.

"Shit," I swore trying not to slam the trunk door.

"What's the matter," Rory sounding confused.

I got into the passenger as he got into the driver. He was a better driver in situations while I was a decent shot while the car was moving. The last thing I wanted was my back window shattered to pieces during a car chase.

"Check your messages," I said as I closed the door to my side. I waited while Rory scanned his phone.

"Why the fuck is Malcolm fucking texting me," he yelled.

"Probably that he met our house guest. Noah texted me that Christopher and he had met. She must have come out of the room." I sighed.

"Fuck," Rory groaned. "Should we go back up there?"

I shook my head. Asher gave us an assignment. "We both know that Noah can handle it. If Malcolm gets out of line, Noah will put him in check. Besides Silas the only person that Malcolm listens to is Noah."

Rory started up the car, " He listens to big brother," he quipped.

"Only so he does not get shot." We laughed.

As we pulled out of the parking garage I sent a silent prayer to our new house guest and my other older brother. Hopefully, they could handle the maniac while we were gone.