Lila
Lila was so locked in Dane's gaze she'd barely noticed the two men who'd stumbled into the office, one cursing and spitting like a cat, the other chuckling and taunting.
"Get your hands off me, you rat bastard!"
"Settle down, son. I'm just following orders."
There was a crash as something—a lamp, Lila thought—tumbled to the floor and broke. Lila braced for Dane to start roaring. Again. But was surprised when he just folded his arms and shook his head, watching the two men.
When she was able to tear her eyes off his broad shoulders and the way the little muscles at the back of his jaw twitched, she finally made herself examine the two men.
She'd already seen Chris earlier, but not like this—not throwing his full strength into struggling against the viselike grip of what had to be the largest man she'd ever seen. Her mouth dropped open. Chris had lost his jacket at some point, so struggled in a black t-shirt and dark jeans, his face red from the effort, veins and muscles popping in every direction. Yet, despite his clear frustration, even she could sense he was holding back. Avoiding hurting the man that held him. But that meant he'd been unable to break the grip that kept him chained. His own reluctance was losing him the fight.
She was reminded of her Karate-do Soke's words in training. "The greatest battle you will ever fight is in your own mind. If you can win that one, you'll win every other fight you step into."
"You know I could break your arm, right?" Chris snarled.
"And I know you won't. Because you're a good little boy who listens to his brother."
Chris roared and tried to pull the other man off his feet. But the man's greater weight pulled him back up. Chris's brass colored hair was slicked in sweat—as was the face of the older man that held him. His brown hair peppered with gray. His arms so huge they looked like steel beams. If they weren't so huge, and Chris wasn't so obviously angry, Lila might have laughed. It was like watching an elephant wrestle a rhino.
"Okay, Tank, let him go," Dane said quietly.
As if the words were a switch, the older man—Tank, obviously—released Chris and the two sprung apart, Chris whirling to face him and still muttering insults. Tank just stood there, wiping his hands on his broad thighs. Dane sighed and Chris turned on him.
"What the fuck is wrong with you? I was working! You're just lucky the guy wasn't there, if they'd seen that you might have blown my—"
"Sit down, and shut up. We have bigger problems," Dane snapped.
Chris's mouth closed with a click, but he still fumed.
"Thank you, Tank. It's good to know you take my instructions so literally."
Lila would have sworn Dane's lips twitched toward a smile again. She was definitely going to have to figure out what would actually make him laugh.
Tank winked at Dane, then clapped Chris on the shoulder as he passed. Even though Chris shrugged it off, Lila could see that he wasn't really angry with Tank—just embarrassed. He wasn't used to being the weaker person the room.
Then Tank was passing her. His eyes widened and he stepped back. "Well, hello pretty lady!" He said. "To what do I owe this very special honor of—"
"Oh, shut it, Tank," Dane growled.
Tank winked at Lila and offered her a hand. "I'm Tank," he said with a grin. "And you must be the angel God sent to battle all us demons into submission?"
Lila laughed. His massive hand engulfed hers as they shook. "Lila. Lila Farris," she said. "And I promise I'm no angel."
From the corner of her eye she caught Dane's gaze snap to her face, but he didn't say anything.
Tank's eyes widened again. "Lila Farris? The Lila Farris? Your father is—"
"Yes, yes, Tank, that's her," Dane muttered, ushering the man out. "And now she's here to save our asses, so get yours out of here . . . please."
Lila lifted a mocking eyebrow at Dane, which he ignored. Tank kept moving towards the door with Dane on his heels, but his smile was gentle and Lila hoped they'd get another chance to talk more. Despite his intimidating strength, he was obviously a sweet man. She leaned past Dane to wave at him, and he winked again as Dane closed the door on him.
She was embarrassed to hear herself giggle like a little girl. She pulled herself together as Dane turned on his heel, glaring at Chris. She opened her mouth—maybe she could stop them shouting at each other so they could all actually get some answers? But Dane silenced her with a look, then turned back on Chris.
"We have a problem. And you weren't answering your phone."
"Didn't that give you a clue that I was in the middle of something important?" Chris spat.
"Not as important as this." She was surprised how calm Dane had remained. He was clearly angry, and obviously tense. Yet he wasn't shouting. For once.
Chris seemed to notice the difference too, because he went still. "What is it?"
"Becky is a plant." Dane said, eyes locked on Chris.
Chris didn't respond, but his throat bobbed. "Who's behind it?" He asked finally.
"We haven't worked that out yet," Dane murmured, then looked at her. A reminder to keep silent, and a cue to step in?
"I, uh," she started, then kept going when Dane didn't shout her down. "I was hoping you could tell me a little more about what you know about her and why you felt she was trying to get back at you?"
Chris snorted, but sank forward, head in his hands.
"I didn't feel like she was targeting me. I knew she was," he sighed. "The whole thing is just a fucking mess."