Page 68 of Read With Your Heart

And now my sister is pregnant. There’s a new life blooming inside her, tethering the killer of my brother to my little sister. I feel sick.

Plus, we finally got a call from my parents. Deported. They aren’t coming back.

How is my life just one mess after another?

“Is it worth the risk? Do you want to go back to jail? For what? Did you like you there so much?” AJ teases, but his tone is serious as he stands behind a glass counter in his shop. He’s done well for himself. It’s not something I’d want, but I’m not certain what I want anymore.

Visions of green-brown eyes filter through my thoughts. Cool skin. Soft sheets. A willing body.

God, she hates me, and I can’t even say her anger isn’t justified. I didn’t mean to disappear. I just focused on Lena. Being here messed with my head.

“Will it bring back Israel?” AJ interjects. I straighten from the case I’ve been leaning against and glare at my oldest friend. “Will it help Lena and the baby?” His dark eyes search my face. “A baby, man.”

My friend is a little too happy about my sister’s pregnancy. I don’t recall him ever liking little kids, but things change. People change. He has three of his own.

“You can see that baby as a gift. Hector took a life, and then he gave one back.”

I reach for AJ, yanking him over his counter by his stupid plaid shirt. “That is not how it works.”

AJ laughs. His hand circles my wrist, and he tugs himself free from my grip. “Fuck you, man. You know what I mean.”

I don’t.

There is no comparison. My brother is dead. My sister is pregnant by his killer.

“We were kids,” AJ says as if that explains everything. Hector had been doing what he was told just as I’d done what was asked of me. I’d jumped in at seventeen. At thirty-one, I’d been ready to get out. Stealing cars got old. Roughing people up drained me. I’d been on my last assignment when I got caught.

Eighteen long years, and I just wanted a new life.

“Heard about the piece outside the coffee shop. Was that her?”

“Don’t you talk about her,” I snap, ready to reach for him again.

I look around the pawn shop. Grimy windows. Shelves piled with stuff. Carpet that gives the place a musty scent. I don’t know what I’m doing here. AJ and I no longer have anything in common. He has an old lady and three little mouths to feed. He runs a business, and he’s out. He’s been out for a long time.

He watches me, his lips slowly curling into a smile as though he knows something I don’t. “You found a good woman, right? She’s everything clean and good.” Under the influence of too much tequila the other night, I’d told AJ I met someone but let her slip away. “You had it, man, so why do you want to give that up?” He holds my gaze. “It won’t bring him back. Let her fill the void.”

My chest feels like a rocket shot through me. I gasp for air at his words. Nothing will fill the hole of my brother’s passing. He’d been my best friend. I was supposed to look out for him. He died in my arms.

I feel like it’s all happening again. I’m responsible for my sister. She’s pregnant by a killer.

“I’ll always feel hunted,” I tell him. My senses have heightened since returning here. My parents’ apartment—well, the one they used to have—isn’t where it all happened. Considering the back rent was due for several months, the eviction notice on the door of the first place I went to look for Lena wasn’t a surprise. However, I’m not far enough from the front steps where their son was shot dead.

“He was caught in the crossfire,” AJ reminds me, and while I know it might have been, I’ll also never know for certain. Israel was close to getting mixed up. I’d been in trouble, but I wasn’t on the brink like him. Then he’d died, and I took his place. “And you aren’t a target. You served your time. You got out. You’re branded.”

AJ knows about the mark. He wears his own. Branded for life. Always one of them, but now an exile.

“They know I’m back?” I question. I’ve been asking around, seeking out that weasel Hector. AJ shrugs.

“And they’ll forget you when you leave. Make a life somewhere else.” AJ stares at me, dispensing his advice while he still lives within miles of where we grew up. Where he caused all his trouble. He lives a happily ever after here, but he knows I’m not happy to be back.

“You should come with me,” I offer weakly.

“And give all this up?” He holds out his hands, waving around the dirty shop stacked with junk and reeking of mold.

My nose twitches—pure, clean, fresh—this place is not it.

“This is my city,” he interjects, pride in his voice. “I like the noise, the lights, the busyness.” His eyes follow a woman walking around his store, and I realize some things never change completely. You can take a man off the market, but he’s still going to check out the goods.