Zero to Sixty

by Marie Harte

  Theo rolled his eyes, but Landon thought his dad had a point.

  So of course Gavin disagreed. “He’s only twenty, Dad. Lots of time to think about what he wants to do. Now’s the time for Theo to find himself.”

  “He’s gonna find himself out of a house and food if he keeps mooching off Mom and Dad,” Landon warned. Theo needed some tough love, and at least he and his father kept giving it to him. Left up to their mother or Gavin, Theo would be forty-nine and still living at home.

  “Shut up, Landon.” Theo glared. “We weren’t all born knowing we needed to walk around with a sword up our Marine Corps ass.”

  “Oh, that’s a good one.” Gavin grinned.

  Their father scowled at Theo. “Watch your mouth, boy.”

  “Or what? You’ll spank me?”

  Landon blinked. Even Gavin looked taken aback. Theo had never mouthed off to their parents before. Not blatantly.

  Van gritted his teeth. Before he could say anything, Theo got to his feet.

  “I’m leaving.”

  “Where are you going?” Van barked.

  Landon gaped. His father, visibly angry?

  “Out. Don’t worry. I’m not going to do drugs or knock anybody up.” Theo sneered. “And I’m not taking your precious car. I’ll walk.” He tore out of the kitchen. Their father darted after him, and Landon hurried to save the food from burning.

  “Stir-fry. Yum.” Gavin stood next to him, staring longingly at the contents in the wok.

  “That been going on long?” Landon nodded to the exit way, where he could still hear his father yelling for Theo to return.

  “Yeah. About a month. Dad’s losing it.” Gavin chuckled. “Sorry to say, but I’m enjoying it. Mr. Mellow has met his match. Who knew Theo could be so stubborn and rebellious? Makes me so proud.” Gavin wiped a fake tear.

  Landon shouldn’t have grinned, but he hadn’t realized Theo could be so assertive. Snarky, sure, but aggressive? He didn’t care for little brother’s disrespect, and he’d be sure to have a talk with the kid. But he liked Theo standing up for himself. Their parents were awesome people. But Linda could be domineering without meaning to be. And Van could be so chill he made a guy feel bad for ever disagreeing with what had to be the right answer.

  Landon had never been outright defiant. He’d been a good little Marine from birth, to hear his parents tell it. But he’d left as soon as he’d been able, needing independence, to be his own person.

  Van returned, looking frazzled. “That kid is making me gray.”

  “Not yet,” Gavin said and put out some plates and silverware. “What did you do that’s got him so pissed?”

  Their dad sighed. “He doesn’t appreciate my ‘lectures.’ I worry about him. He seems so clueless about everything. He has no idea what he wants to pursue. Hell, most of his friends are in their second year of college already. George Collins is at Washington on a football scholarship. That could have been your brother if his grades had been better. He’s an amazing athlete.”

  “He has to make his own way, Dad. We’re all different.” Landon spooned a heap of food on three of the four plates, and put that last plate away.

  Gavin dug into his plate. “Yep. Look at Hope. She never wanted more than an associate’s degree in—what was that? She kept changing her mind. Basket weaving? Liberal arts? How to annoy her older brothers?”

  “Gavin.” But Van was smiling.

  Gavin nodded. “But now she’s rocking the business world as Cameron’s secretary.”

  “Administrative assistant,” their dad said around a mouthful.

  “Don’t seem so dejected, Dad.” Landon patted his dad on the back. “We all wanted to get away from you and Mom at his age.”

  “Thanks, Landon. I feel so much better now.”

  Gavin chuckled. “Yeah, I’m not feeling that love either.”

  Landon sighed. “It’s normal for a kid to want to be independent. It was easier for me. I went to college, then the Marine Corps. Gavin joined straight out of high school.”

  Gavin nodded.

  “Hope, well, she’s another story.”

  “My baby girl is just fine,” Van said, a little defensively, in Landon’s opinion. “She’s got a terrific job with your cousin, and she’s taking college classes to get even smarter.” He beamed. “Not that she needs it.”

  Landon snorted. Gavin rolled his eyes. Their father was such a sucker for his daughter. Hope had been manipulating the guy since she’d learned how to smile. “She has her own problems, but she’s fixing them herself.”

  Gavin’s eyes narrowed. He knew about Hope’s exes, and this Greg asshole especially, because Landon had shared. They both agreed Greg needed to be taught a lesson.

  Landon continued, “In fact, Gavin and I are teaching a self-defense class at the gym, and Hope’s taking it. She’s a smart girl.”

  “Of course she is.” Their father cleaned his plate, but Landon didn’t see an ounce of fat on his old man. Old didn’t seem to fit Van Donnigan. The guy ran four miles daily, looked like Landon’s older brother, ate right, loved his wife and kids, and worked from nine to five every day in the business he now had a share in with his rich partners. Talk about living a clean life.

  Landon wondered if he’d ever have that kind of domestic bliss. An image of Ava unexpectedly popped up in his mind’s eye, and he ignored the weird sensation in his gut that seemed to accompany thoughts of her. Had to be all her talk of babies and baby-makers that brought her to mind when it came to domestic bliss.

  Then again, considering how Theo had stormed from the house, bliss might be the wrong word to describe his father’s state of being.

  “I just think it’s funny you and Theo are butting heads.” Landon finished his dinner. “You never had that problem with any of us.”

  Van shrugged. “What can I say? He’s complicated.”

  “Theo?” Gavin looked surprised. “Kid’s easy enough to read. He wants to be as successful as his mom and dad. His older sister is out of the nest, leaving him all alone at home. He has big shoes to fill when it comes to his oldest brother.” Gavin sighed. “Then he sees me drinking my problems away, and he’s freaked out that joining the Marine Corps might turn him into Gavin ‘The Loser’ Donnigan.”

  “That’s not true,” Van denied.

  “Yeah. I wouldn’t call you a loser. A dumbass, maybe, but not a loser,” Landon said to take the sting out of Gavin’s idea of how others perceived him.

  He had to give his brother credit, though. Pretty insightful for a guy who just the other day had pantsed Landon in their living room like a fourteen-year-old. Gavin had a point. Theo had written him a ton of letters about possibly joining, back when Landon had been overseas. And then Landon and Gavin had come home.

  Landon couldn’t blame Theo for being confused. One brother put out of commission by a stupid, unfortunate bullet while another suffered from issues caused by death and destruction in the desert. Not a great endorsement for becoming a Leatherneck. Yet Landon wouldn’t trade it for the world. There was so much good to being a Marine, so much to learn and share. He still felt great pride for his service.

  Yet he knew serving in the military wasn’t for everyone. Maybe it wasn’t for Theo. Who the hell knew?

  Van stared at Gavin. “Do you really think that he wants the Marine Corps, and now he’s afraid to join? Or is he just scared of making the wrong choice, so he’s not making any decision at all?”

  “With Theo, who knows? Maybe the latest episode of the Clone Wars has him wanting to be a pilot?” Landon joked, and they all laughed. But his father looked introspective throughout the rest of their dinner.

  He and Gavin soon left Van to his thoughts.

  “Got plans tonight?” Landon asked as they departed in his SUV.

  “Not particularly.” Gavin shrugged. “Why?”


  “I was thinking we could pay Greg a visit.”

  Gavin straightened. “Yeah? You know where he is? I asked Hope a bunch of times, but she only told me to shove it.”

  Landon snorted. “And Dad thinks she’s a dainty little lady. Yeah, right.” He had hope for his sister. Just as long as she finally stopped dating jerkwads. “What’s up with her, anyway?”

  Gavin sighed. “I think Mom’s on her ass again. It’s funny to see Linda and Hope as twisted as Van and Theo. We’re lucky to be the ones they left alone.”

  “Mom’s always been harder on Hope than the rest of us. Still, Hope’s smart. Why the hell is she dating these losers? I can’t believe that fuckhead put a bruise on her.”

  Gavin scowled. “Think he did more than that, but she won’t say?”

  “Who knows?” Landon saw red just thinking about it. Then he remembered Ava talking about some guy trying to steal second base. He wanted to beat the shit out of any guy who’d take advantage like that. And of Ava? Hell no.

  “So where are we heading?”

  Landon turned south at the next street. “Some dump on Rainier. I heard that’s where he was going to be tonight.”

  “You heard how?” Gavin looked interested. Good.

  “I called Cam, told him about it.” Their cousin might be a roughneck McCauley by name, but he seemed the most enlightened of the bunch. “He dug a little into Hope’s business and gave me a full name and picture to go with it.”

  “Gotta love Cam.” Gavin chuckled.

  “Yeah. So I just happened to be driving by the guy’s place of business and saw him arguing with a woman. She stalked away after giving him a hard time, and she and I had a little chat.” Landon grinned, remembering the many names she’d called Greg.

  “What place of business?”

  “Greg works for a heating company. The chick he was arguing with is his steady girlfriend. She had no idea he was cheating on her with Hope. When Hope found out, she dumped his ass. That’s when he got grabby, apparently.”

  “What a dick.”

  “Yeah.” They drove past several warehouses that looked either run-down or deserted. Landon pulled behind a neon sign missing some letters that should have read Mazatlan. But the clientele hanging around out back didn’t seem in the Mexican food frame of mind. A lot of motorcycles, rusted pieces of crap, and muscle cars littered the lot.

  “This is it? Jesus. Hope was scraping the bottom of the barrel with this guy, huh?”

  “I don’t know what her problem is. She’s cute, right? I’m not just thinking that because I’m her brother, am I?” Landon asked as he parked the car.

  He and Gavin got out, and he made sure to lock the thing tight. With any luck he’d still have wheels when he and Gavin returned.

  “Nah. She’s hot. I mean that in a brotherly, not incestuous, way.”

  Landon cringed. “Thanks for adding that.”

  They glanced at the place. “You sure this is it?”

  “Yeah.” Landon took a deep breath then blew it out. “It’s a bar now. Been Ray’s for over ten years.”

  They looked at the sign, then back at the place.

  “Great.”

  Landon paused, wondering if maybe he should have left Gavin at home. “It’s a bar, but we’re not going in there to drink.”

  Gavin sighed. “I know that. I’m not a drunk, Landon. I just had some issues the beer made go away.”

  “Uh-huh.”

  Gavin glared. “Okay, so I still have those issues. I’m not drinking anymore. And I have no urge to drown myself in cheap beer. No shakes, no seeing things. I’m not detoxing, you jackass. I’m just dealing.”

  “I’m getting you a therapist.” No question about it.

  Gavin stared at him, then glanced away. “Fine. But can we not talk about this now? You’re making me want to drink just to forget you.”

  Landon smirked. “After you.” He waved toward the degenerates hanging out by the back door. Leather and denim and tattoos. Oh joy.

  Gavin cringed. “Shouldn’t you go first? Whatever happened to age before beauty?”

  “Not hearing you. Move out, Marine.”

  * * *

  Gavin glared once more at his overbearing brother, said a few less-than-considerate things under his breath, then took the lead. He could handle this type of trouble. Beatings and fights, no sniper fire or IEDs, thank God. He hadn’t been in a good brawl for a while, not since those special assignments, like the one that had landed him in the med bay with a bullet in his lung.

  The dark thoughts threatened to overtake him, drowning him in nightmares of memory, so he pushed them aside, focusing on bringing the pain to the asshole who’d put a finger on his sister.

  Thoughts of golden-haired Hope always made him smile. Their poor sister, the only girl in their house of testosterone. Hell, their mother had bigger balls than their dad, or at least, he used to think so. He hadn’t forgotten his dad’s deep talk about losing people. Still, Linda Donnigan could be one scary voice of authority. You didn’t piss her off and hope to escape notice. No, sir. No how.

  Hope had been the gentle, calm soul in the household. So girlie. So cute and happy and caring.

  For this guy to have bruised his precious sister? Hell no. With that thought in mind, he made straight for the back door. He and his brother dressed casually, enough to blend in, he hoped. He proudly wore his favorite Seahawks sweatshirt and jeans. His brother had on some old flannel shirt over a white T-shirt with black denims. Nothing special.

  The expression on Gavin’s face must have warned people not to screw with him, because they gave him wary looks but didn’t say a thing as he approached the door.

  They entered Ray’s and paused. The place seemed a lot more decent on the inside. It still smelled like a bar—stale beer, sweaty guys, greasy food—but it looked halfway decent. Cleaner than he’d have imagined, and no one lay bleeding or shivved on the sticky floor.

  The bouncer who let them in gave them a long, hard look. The guy looked like he picked his teeth with trees instead of toothpicks. The shirt that read Bouncer strained over his broad chest and steroid-induced biceps.

  “Problem?” Landon asked, his balls bigger than his brain, as usual.

  “Won’t be if you keep it clean, hero.” The guy smirked at Landon.

  “Sure thing, Bouncer.” Landon grinned back, though the expression didn’t reach his eyes. The bouncer had read him right, though. With Landon’s ramrod-stiff posture and still-short hair, he looked ex-military. Even if they didn’t meet Greg tonight for a few rounds, Gavin had a feeling his brother might rub someone else the wrong way. He was good like that.

  Gavin brightened. A fight might allow him to let go of the constant tension that was making life practically unbearable. He’d been supplanting his alcoholic deluges with workouts at the gym before he headed home each night. Even if he didn’t work a shift, he still showed up to work out. He slept like a baby lately, too tired to think about much.

  He rotated his shoulders, appreciating the burn in his lats.

  “There.” Landon didn’t wait. He moved straight to a dark-haired guy sitting with two bald dudes and a red-haired idiot with questionable taste in fashion. Seriously? A mullet in the twenty-first century? Despite the hair issue, all four looked like ex-cons—tatted, brawny, with mean eyes.

  Quite the place Greg liked to frequent. “Landon, hold on.”

  They hadn’t discussed how they’d planned to handle this, but big brother, as usual, took charge.

  Sometimes Gavin appreciated Landon telling him what to do, where to go, how to handle himself. He’d learned a lot from his older brother throughout life. But Landon could also get on his last fucking nerve, rushing into situations before thinking them through. Dominant, aggressive, and focused, Landon could have gone as far as general with no trouble. Except for one
pesky little bullet that had managed to lodge in his knee and do enough damage to permanently fuck up his joint.

  No coming back from that. As healthy and buff as his brother seemed, Landon would never be able to discount that possible weakness in his joint. At odd times his knee just gave out on him. Landon didn’t know it, but Gavin had seen him rubbing the injury when he thought no one was looking.

  Maybe I’m not the only one with anger issues. He caught up to Landon in time to hear his brother mouthing off.

  “None of this involves you three.” He gave the others a dismissive look. “You Greg?” he asked the dark-haired guy. The man wasn’t as tall as Landon or Gavin, but he had some muscle on him. A man larger than Hope for sure.

  Gavin stood next to Landon, his arms crossed, waiting for the dickhead to pull something.

  Apparently the people close by thought the same, because the crowd around them quieted and backed up, watching.

  “Yeah, I’m Greg. Who the hell are you?” Greg stood, still drinking his beer. He seemed sober enough, but he looked a little anxious.

  “A friend of Hope’s,” Landon said clearly, his voice deep, angry.

  The others at the table stood as well. Would it be four against two, then? Gavin prayed for a yes.

  A pretty African American woman with bouncy light brown curls came over. “Trouble, guys? Can I get anyone something to drink?”

  Gavin smiled at her. She smiled back. Oh man, this bar had more than a fight going for it. Nice. “I’m good, thanks.”

  She winked. “You are so cute.” She thumbed at Landon. “How about you, handsome? Something to drink?”

  Mullet frowned. “Back off, Rena. This ain’t a good place for you to be.”

  “Sorry, Rena,” Gavin agreed. “My brother and I have something to say to Greg, and you’d probably be better off back by the bar.”

  Rena’s eyes widened, and she left.

  “What the fuck does that bitch want now?” Greg snarled, trying to sound mean. His eyes told a different story. He kept glancing around, looking for an escape.

  “You calling my sister a bitch?” Landon asked softly.

  Mullet had a brain under that bad haircut, because he and one of the bald guys backed away. “You stepped in it now, Greg.”