Page 22 of Alec’s Dream

“And Doug is Jonny’s brother?” Jameson asked.

“Yeah,” Nixon started. “If I remember correctly, the Spencers started fostering Doug when we were…maybe five or six. That put Doug at about nine or ten. A few years later they ended up adopting him.”

“Jonny’s never mentioned him,” Jameson added incredulously.

“Doug’s an asshat,” Nixon said as if that was a good reason for Jonny to never mention he had a brother.

“Sounds like that’s an understatement,” Jameson returned.

“What now?” Nix turned to Alec.

“Now I watch and keep diggin’.”

“Not much you can do if she’s not willin’ to press charges,” Jameson told him with a brow raised.

“Sure there is,” Alec corrected.

“Brother—”

“Already told you, Nixon, I sucked that shit up once. Stood not even five feet from her while that douche berated her. Then I had a front-row seat to Doug’s vitriol. Heard it, saw it, but more than that I witnessed the pain he caused. She has two kids, she’s sweet, and she’s good to Joss. Whether she wants it or not, I’m making this better for her.”

“Whatever you need,” Nix sighed. “We got your back.”

Jameson nodded his agreement. And not for the first time Alec felt it—the comradery he’d been missing when he left the Navy and went to work for DHS. It felt good to have it back. Not only for him, but for his daughter, too.

A family by choice, not blood, but family nonetheless.

“’Preciate it.”

“Did you have a good party, baby girl?” Alec asked his daughter as they cuddled on the couch.

All the guests had long since left. Silver and Kennedy had made quick work of cleaning up his kitchen while Alec and the guys had assembled a huge, pink and purple plastic playhouse. The monstrosity now took up a good portion of his dining room.

Never in his wildest dreams did he imagine his life would be filled with playhouses, stuffed animals, and dolls. But there he was on his couch, his girl tucked to his side holding her favorite teddy and her blanket.

And he sat there thinking there was nothing better in the whole world.

Jocelyn didn’t answer so Alec continued, “Auntie Micky gave you enough cupcakes to give you a bellyache. You think we’re ever going to sleep tonight?”

Still, Joss said nothing.

“Happy birthday, Jossy.” Alec bent and kissed her still damp hair from her bath. And before he sat back he inhaled, taking in his daughter’s shampoo, thinking he loved the way it smelled.

It would be a long time before Jocelyn crawled on top of her dad, resting her cheek on his shoulder, holding her blanket to her face, and finally closing her eyes.

And during the quiet of their day, Alec’s thoughts were troubled.

Jaime should’ve been there to celebrate their daughter. She should’ve helped bake the cake, decorate it, cut it, watched Joss tear into her presents. Jaime should’ve been there for a lot of things she’d never witness. And it pissed Alec off knowing if Jaime was there, he wouldn’t be.

So once Alec stopped being mad at a dead woman who would never give him the answers he needed, he focused on Macy. The very alive woman who hadn’t shown up to Jocelyn’s party. Not that he expected her to, but he’d hoped.

And if he was being honest, it pissed him off that Macy hadn’t come because the truth was, he wanted to see her, spend some time with her, get to know her.

But she ghosted his ass.

9

I had successfully dodged Alec all week.