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“Diana.” He grunted, depositing Nick.
“I’ll buckle him in,” Diana offered, leaning across to pull the belt into place.
“You do that,” Braden said, closing the door and turning toward Charity. “You need help getting him home?” His gaze bounced from her to his squad car, then the moon overhead.
“I’m not sure I can carry him—”
“You can’t.” He frowned. “He can sleep it off in the car.”
“I was kidding,” she offered, oddly touched by his concern.
One brow rose, then settled—unreadable once more.
“Thanks again.” She knew how big a break he was giving Nick. She only hoped her nephew understood. When he sobered up, that was.
Until then, she had to figure out what to tell her sister. Because, even with her limited parenting instincts, Charity knew this wasn’t the sort of thing you hid. Crap.
He nodded. “You be safe getting home.” He didn’t look at her, just walked back to his car, got inside, and drove off.
…
“Oh God.” Honor waved her hand in front of her face. “Your breath.”
“Sorry.” Nick’s mumble was thick and slurred.
“Snap out of it—we’re home.” With a tug, she helped him from the car and waited while he steadied himself. Aunt Charity had yet to reveal what the hell had happened tonight, but it didn’t take a rocket scientist to know it was nothing good. Her brother was fall-down drunk. Again. At the cemetery by their dad’s grave.
What had he done?
How had he even gotten there? No way Granddad and Mimi had brought him. And the sheriff was there. As far as she could tell, he hadn’t arrested him or anything, but still…
It was like he’d mind-melded with Diana recently.
“You look like shit,” Diana offered, peering up at Nick with narrowed eyes. “You and drinking. Not a good combination.”
“Thanks,” he muttered, swaying back and forth.
“She’s right.” The edge to their aunt’s voice was surprising. Aunt Charity didn’t get mad. Ever. One look told Honor she was mad now. Big time. Good. Maybe he’d listen to Aunt Charity. Hopefully he would. What was wrong with him?
“Can you make it to your room without your mom figuring out what’s going on?” Aunt Charity asked. “Because, Nick, I’m not sure what to say to her yet. And honestly, I don’t know how much more your mom can deal with right now.”
His head hung—hopefully with regret but more likely from alcohol.
“Harsh,” Diana mumbled.
“Honest,” Honor shot back. Sometimes Diana just didn’t get it. Like now. They didn’t enjoy torturing their mom—they loved and respected her. Well, she did. With Nick’s latest stunts, she wasn’t sure she knew who her brother was anymore. And it hurt. Deeply.
They’d been a team forever. Now more than ever, she needed her brother. Not some irresponsible, self-absorbed child bent on making decisions that could only lead to bad things, but her brother—and her best friend.
As far as she was concerned, there had been enough bad to last them all for a long time. They were all due some good. Preferably a lot of good.
Like Owen. He’d been popping up in her thoughts often. Now, however, was not the time to get warm fuzzies over him.
At least Dr. Murphy’s car was still here. That was good news for her mom. Well, it was until they burst in on them with her drunk son. She sighed.
“What’s the story?” Diana asked. “We need to get our stories straight.”
“The truth.” Honor glanced at Nick, hoping he’d agree. Whatever had happened tonight, Sheriff Martinez knew. Considering the way Pecan Valley worked, word of Nick’s antics would probably be common knowledge by morning. If their mother found out about this through gossip… No, it wasn’t right.
