“I
had
important
business
to
take
care
of,”
Dare
said
grabbing
a
bottle
of
beer
and
leaning
against
the
refrigerator
in
Stone’s
kitchen.
“I’ll
wait
this
round
out
and
just
watch.”
His
brothers
nodded
as
they
continued
with
the
game.
Moments
later,
Chase
Westmoreland
let
out
a
curse.
Evidently
he
was
losing
as
usual,
Dare
thought
smiling.
He
then
thought
about
how
the
four
men
at
the
table
were
more
than
just
brothers
to
him;
they
were
also
his
very
best
friends,
although
Thorn,
the
one
known
for
his
moodiness,
could
test
that
friendship
and
brotherly
love
to
the
limit
at
times.
At
thirty-five,
Thorn
was
only
eleven
months
younger
than
him,
and
built
and
raced
motorcycles
for
a
living.
Last
year
he’d
been
the
only
African-American
on
the
circuit.
His
brother
Stone,
known
for
his
wild
imagination,
had
recently
celebrated
his
thirty-third
birthday
and
wrote
action-
thriller
novels
under
the
pen
name,
Rock
Mason.
Then
there
were
the
fraternal
thirty-two-year-old
twins,
Chase
and
Storm.
Chase
was
the
oldest
by
seven
minutes
and
owned
a
soul-food
restaurant
in
downtown
Atlanta,
and
Storm
was
the
fireman
in
the
family.
According
to
their
mother,
she
had
gone
into
delivery
unexpectedly
while
riding
in
the
car
with
their
Dad.
When
a
bad
storm
had
come
up,
he
chased
time
and
outran
the
storm
to
get
her
to
the
hospital.
Thus
she
had
named
her
last
two
sons
Chase
and
Storm.
“You’re
quiet,
Dare.”
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