We Fall Like Ashes | Wildfire Series

Forty-Nine: Go

Oh, hey. Baby, didn't you know there's basically two of me? No? My fucking bad.

"Chill, man. I didn't mean it like that." He raised a brow, chuckling. "She's damn fine."

Red hot anger raced up my spine, making me stand straight as I stared at my brother. I realized that him bringing up Collins meant he'd been...watching. From where?

"What are you doing, Cato?" I demanded. "Just hanging around spying on us?"

"I wasn't spying." His eyes made a flicking motion, brushing off the serious shit. Like normal. Like me. Of course our similarities were connected to our flaws. "I was just waiting around for a moment when I could talk to you without interrupting."

"Well, next time you're just waiting around, maybe you could do it without checking out my girlfriend," I punched out through gritted teeth.

"Fine." Cato's upper lip curled like it always did whenever he knew he was getting beneath my skin. "Next time, I'll focus on the blonde."

I ground my teeth together again. "I wouldn't suggest that."

"Why, she taken too?"

"Very." My tight-lipped insistence didn't seem to deter Cato's intrigue, so I narrowed my gaze at him pointedly. "And as annoying as you're acting, I'd prefer a night without bloodshed."

I doubted that even the fact that Cato had my face would stop Bren from kicking his ass. It might throw him off his game, but it wouldn't deter him from breaking his nose.

Although, maybe then people could finally tell us apart. I wouldn't have a problem with Cato being the crooked-nose Martin brother. Had a ring to it, honestly.

"Ahh." An inkling of a smile persisted on Cato's face. He pushed off the garage door and stepped toward me. "So you do still care about me."

I sighed. He was teasing...but there was a bit of truth laced in there, too.

"Of course I care about you, Cato."

His expression suddenly fell. Stony. "Good, because I need your help."

Yeah, I was waiting for that. Way to draw it out, dramatic fucker.

"I thought maybe you were here because you had the money you owed me," I said, equally serious.

He grimaced. Naturally he didn't have my money. I never, not for one minute, thought that he had my money, but he didn't need to know that.

"I just can't get ahead," he said with a low, frustrated growl. "But I'm almost there, Beau."

I wasn't entirely sure what that meant, but I knew one way to solve it. "You should talk to mom."

"I did talk to mom."

"You did?"

"How do you think that I found out you were here?" He rolled his eyes like it should have been obvious. "She let it slip."

I figured someone told Cato, that made the most sense in why he was here. But I never would have thought he'd get the courage to dial home.

"And what else did she say?" I asked.

"She called me." Ah, that checked out. He hadn't dialed home. Home had dialed him. "Wanted to know why I keep coming to you for money."

That was the only reason why my parents would cut through the tension between them and their son. To protect their other one. I bit the inside of my cheek, hating how messy this was getting.

"You said it yourself," Cato continued. "That they would notice the activity in your accounts."

I blanched as I thought about another difference they'd notice in my accounts soon enough and how I'd better prep them for it. But I could only focus on one financial crisis at a time and turned my attention back to Cato.