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Ethan Stone was going to kill his brother-in-law.
“What do you mean you’re going to a concert on your own? At night?” he grumbled into the phone. “That’s not happening. What is Stu thinking? Where is he?”
“Ethan! I’m nearly twenty-nine years old. If I want to go to a concert, I will.”
There was a part of him that was aware he was acting irrationally. But he’d always been that way when it came to Lana. She would always be his baby sister. No matter how old she was.
“I don’t care if you’re twenty-nine or eighty-nine,” he countered. “It’s not safe.”
“I’m going with three friends. We have a sober driver. And I’ve packed my mace.”
Well. He supposed that was something.
“You’ll stick with your friends at all times?”
“Yes.”
“You won’t get into a car with a stranger?”
“Of course not.”
“Or drink anything that is handed to you or has been out of your sight?”
“I won’t.”
He sighed, rubbing his forehead. His head was pounding. “Fine, you can go.”
“Jeez, thanks, Dad,” his younger sister said sarcastically.
“Don’t be a brat.” He still wasn’t impressed that her husband wasn’t going with her.
“Ethan?”
“Yeah?”
“You need to stop worrying about me so much. I’m all grown up and I’m fine. Nothing bad will happen.”
But that was just it. Something could happen. Something bad could happen at any time and she should be prepared for that. Lana thought he was a worrywart, but he thought she didn’t worry enough.
“Just be careful.”
“I will. Now, go do something fun. Maybe find yourself a girl, so then you can concentrate on smothering her in protection instead of me, yeah?”
He ended the call, still grumbling as he walked out of his office at Callahan Security.
He didn’t want to go home.
Was he turning into a workaholic?
Or is it because you live in a barren, empty apartment with no warmth.
He could go to the club, but that wasn’t very appealing either.
What the fuck was wrong with him? Was he having a midlife crisis at thirty-eight?
Did he need to go buy a red sportscar? Get a new look?
