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“I knew he was upset. I should have gone home with him, made sure he’s okay.”
“He’s a grown man and responsible for himself.”
Morgan doesn’t answer, just grabs his phone and calls Rhett.
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
Morgan
The whole ride to Lilington, I feel like I’m going to jump out of my skin. This isn’t the first time Easton has gotten into trouble, but it’s the first time he’s gotten arrested since I’ve been home, and from everything I know, it’s never happened in a neighboring town before. Lilington is only twenty minutes from Birchbark, but I’m not sure why he was there in the first place, or what he did wrong, or if we’re going to be able to do anything about it.
The second Dusty parks, I jump out of the Jeep. “Calm down, baby. I know you want to be there for Easton, but if you go in there guns blazing, we’re not going to be able to figure anything out.”
I agree, but it’s not that easy. The logical part of me knows he’s right, but that doesn’t stop the guilt from setting fire to my logic. I can’t stop thinking about the fact that I knew Easton was upset tonight, and yet I let him walk away to go celebrate my accomplishments with my boyfriend. “He’s my little brother. It’s my job to take care of him. I haven’t been doing it for ten years, and now I’m back and still not doing it.”
I try to walk away, but Dusty grabs my arm. “You can’t be your brother’s keeper. You can be there for him, for both of them, but you can’t fix all their problems.”
“I sure as fuck can try.” It’s what Mom would’ve wanted.
Dusty lets me go, and we enter the small jail. There’s a male officer at the front counter, who gives us a skeptical look. “Can I help you?”
“I’m Morgan Swift. My brother Easton was brought in…I’m not sure when. Sometime tonight. I’m trying to figure out what happened and if I can take him home tonight.”
“I’m sorry, sir, but I don’t have that information for you.”
I groan, count back from three and try to control my temper. “Is there any way we can see him?”
“I’m sorry, but—”
The door opens behind me, cutting off his words. I turn around to see Rhett walking in with…
“What the fuck is he doing here?” I bite out, pointing at Dad.
“Morgan, calm down,” Dusty pleads.
“I’m here…to see…my son,” Dad says, in that new, slower way of his, walking around me.
Rhett’s voice is low when he says, “Calm the fuck down before you get yourself into trouble too. I was at Dad’s. He wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t know he was up wandering the house when I tried to leave. He insisted on coming.” Rhett straightens his suit jacket, and why is he wearing a suit at three in the morning? “If you can’t keep yourself under control, you need to leave. The rest of us have done this before.” He adds the last part just to be a dick.
“Rhett…” Dusty warns, threading his fingers through mine, and while my whole body is overheated, I can’t even be mad at Rhett for that. The fact is, he’s telling the truth.
They were here.
I wasn’t.
“I’m Rhett Swift,” my brother says to the officer. “This is our father, Gregory Swift—former Michigan congressman and mayor of Birchbark. I’m Easton’s lawyer, and I’d like to know the charges against my client.”
The officer sighs, and I know he’s going to tell them, if only because of who both Rhett and my dad are.
“Assault. He lost his cool on another man at a bar. Attacked him. There are witnesses.”
Fuck. Goddamn it, East.
“I’d like to see him, please,” Rhett says.
The officer nods, then looks at me and Dusty. “Not them.”
My heart drops to my feet, skin suddenly clammy as guilt makes my dinner want to come up.
