Brandon wasn't sure where people got the idea that he had any kind of sway or pull in what his sisters or friends thought. If anything, he was an expendable pawn in the group that knew about their rebellion, helpful and useful only because he was Leah 's brother. If that counted as pull, well... he supposed maybe he had a little pull.
If Adelaide was looking for someone who could convince everyone to back off her brother, to leave her brother alone, the best place she could turn was Marchand. He was the one who was good with words, the one who had whatever kind of sway over what people said and did. But she'd asked for him, so here he was. Brushing a hand over his hair, he had to fight with the urge to glance up at the rooftop he knew Charlie was perched on. She wouldn't let anything happen to him. Pulling his hands from his pockets because he wasn't entirely sure what to expect when he walked around the corner and he didn't want to be shot if Adelaide (or someone else) was holding a gun on him or something, he rounded the corner to the record store.
Now or fucking never, he told himself as he approached her.
"C'mon," he said in lieu of a proper greeting. This wasn't a social call, and there was no need to pretense it as one. "Let's just get this over with already, all right?" he finished, nodding at the door.