Free Brody: The Bang Shift by Mandy Harbin Page B

her name in the search engine when a heavy pounding sounded on his door. He jerked up, grabbing his weapon before silently walking to the door. Had Adams and his gang found him? He wasn’t taking a chance.
    He clutched the doorknob, twisting it slowly as the angry banging continued. One of the things Colonel had taught the guys was to never allow vulnerability. If someone were here to kill him, the fucker would have a Glock on the peephole. His only mode of protection at this point was the element of surprise. Besides, he was ready to kill the motherfucker just for the noise his headache couldn’t take. He jerked the door open, drawing his gun as dark-blonde hair whipped about a tiny head from the force of the door opening, stirring up an enticing scent of vanilla.
    “Fuck,” he breathed, dropping his gun, his heart pounding as he stared at the woman he couldn’t seem to do anything right around.
    Man, he just couldn’t get through this day without one more fuckup.

Chapter 6
    Xan stared in shock at the barrel of a gun shoved in her face, her anger spiking. One would think she’d freak out, but she was already spitting mad at him that this stunt just added icing on her anger cake. Oh, there was a split second where she’d felt fear in her haze of shock—he’d shoved a gun in her face, for crying out loud—but that emotion was short-lived.
    Very short-lived.
    He dropped the arm with the gun, and as she drew in a breath readying herself to let him have it, her eyes finally traveled to his face from his little metal toy he was clutching as if it were his only friend.
    This time when she gasped there was no anger mingling in with myriad emotions attacking her. His normally golden skin was peppered with blue and black splotches, his back rigid, eyes shielded.
    “What happened to you?”
    “I’m fine,” he barked at the same time as she asked her question. He obviously saw the worry building on her face before she expressed it. He sighed, shoulders relaxing a little. “I’m fine,” he repeated without the edge. “What’re you doin’ here?”
    What was she doing here? Oh, right. She was here to chew him a new asshole. Somehow staring at him in this state was like sprinkling water on her flame. It wasn’t a bucket dousing it out because she still felt mad at how he’d been treating her, but something bad had happened to him, and, no matter how angry she might be with him, she didn’t want him physically hurt—unless she was the one dishing it out. “We need to talk.”
    He inclined his head and stepped aside to let her in, though she didn’t get the feeling he was really acquiescing, just biding his time. He hadn’t answered her question about what had happened to him, rather he jumped right into why she was here, changing the subject. He was probably plotting excuses for his bruises or a new way to make her stay away from him.
    As she stepped into his house with him following right behind her, her liquid courage seemed to disappear, and without the estrogen fest that was this evening, her resolve started to waver. Her anger was slowly evaporating, leaving behind her worry and, if she could be even more pathetic, arousal. Once she entered the minimally decorated, masculine living room, she turned, facing him.
    “We do repos on the side. The guy didn’t want to give up his car.” He stepped around her to the couch, picking up an empty bottle. “You wanna beer or something?”
    Couldn’t hurt to revitalize that liquid courage she was just thinking about. She nodded as she processed his answer, then watched him walk into the kitchen. She could still see him since the only thing separating that room from this one was a small bar. If she didn’t know any better, she might’ve believed that piece of bologna he’d tried to feed her about the repo. He said it so effortlessly that he might actually do those jobs on the side and he might’ve gotten into a tussle a time or two because of it. But the answer