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“The girl I was having a whole bunch of on-the-cusp-of-something-big kind of fun. Iris.”
Nash didn’t say anything.
“I met her in the city. She worked at this strip joint in the east end. A bunch of us went in one night after work. There was something about her. Not sure what it was, but something. She’s a small little thing with big blue eyes and long blonde hair. So delicate, you feel like you could crush her just by holding her. I knew the moment I laid eyes on her she was trouble. The guys warned me, but she looked at me, and everything inside went quiet. It’s hard to explain.”
Nash thought of Honey. Of how she twisted him up inside.
Cam tipped ashes into a glass tray. “She has a little kid. A girl named Tawny. When Iris isn’t high, that little girl is everything. But when she’s using, she’s flying solo. She forgets about her job. Me. Her little girl. She does it to forget about the pain.” Cam butted the cigar and turned to Nash. “The drugs they found belonged to Iris. I’m not into that shit, and I gotta say, Nash, it pisses me off you’d even think that.”
Nash stared at his brother, his face hard. “Why in hell would you take the fall if they weren’t yours? You could go to prison. You know that, right?”
Cam nodded. “I do. But if Iris goes to prison, her little girl goes into the system, and I can’t let that happen. Next to her grandmother, I’m all that little girl has. I told Iris if she didn’t get treatment, I’d tell the cops the truth and she’d get thrown in jail. She’s in this place in Detroit. Tawny is with the grandmother in Oregon until Iris gets out. The lady is old and in a wheelchair so it’s not ideal, but for now it works.”
Nash let all this settle, and a newfound respect bloomed in his chest as he watched his brother. “I had no idea.”
“You never asked.”
No. He hadn’t. “I get you want to help this woman and the little girl, but, Cam, jail could ruin your life.”
“I have to do this, Nash. I told Iris I would see this through as long as she did her part.”
“What does your lawyer say?”
Cam glanced at his watch. “You better get your ass in gear. Football starts in twenty minutes.”
Nash didn’t bother asking about the lawyer again, because he knew Cam wouldn’t share until he was ready.
“You want to come with us? I think Travis is home. He has a two-day break between games.”
“Nah.” Cam got to his feet and followed Nash back to the house. “I’ll watch the game here with Dad and Tink. Someone needs to keep that kid in line.”
“You sure?”
“Go get your girl before she changes her mind.”
Nash watched his brother head into the house before walking down the driveway and through the white picket fence to where his truck was parked. He hopped in just as his phone pinged, and he glanced down at the text message. It was from Honey.
If you hurry up, we can have some fun before we have to be there.
He laughed out loud as the engine roared to life. Nash tore down the street, trying to figure out what kind of fun they were having. But then, he knew…didn’t he?
It was about as far away from casual as a man could get.
17
Honey had been in this situation before. Well, not this exact situation, but the gut feeling that went along with it was the same. She felt like she was on a locomotive riding too close to the edge—so close that it was about to go off the rails—and she had no idea how to jump off.
The problem was part of her didn’t want to jump off. Part of her wanted, no, needed to see this through. But things had gotten complicated, and that backbone that she’d counted on so many times in her young life was bending a little.
Maybe a little too much.
She stood in the kitchen of the Blackwell home and studied the scene in front of her. She’d been surprised when Nash brought her here—she’d assumed football and beer was something to be enjoyed at Hudson’s place. But they’d ended up at the family home on the lake, with all the Blackwell boys and their wives, and that was when locomotive took off.
Her heart was still hammering away inside her.
John Blackwell had greeted her and Nash at the door. His eyes were warm, and though his hands shook a little, she felt the imprint of him against her skin as if his fingers were still there. Nash introduced her, and John nodded. Of course, he remembered her. He’d met her in Hudson’s office several weeks before. He ushered them inside, and a vigorous conversation about football ensued. His companion, Darlene, offered Honey a drink, but she declined. She was out of sorts, and no way was she bringing booze into the mix.
The boys, Wyatt, Travis, and Hudson, were grouped together near the fireplace, eyes on the big screen as a game played out. Nash joined them, and the four men got down to the business of discussing the various pros and cons of each team playing. Hudson’s wife, Becca, and Travis’s better half, Ruby, were both football fans and right there with their men, while John Blackwell joined Darlene on the large leather sofa directly in front of the flat screen television, Hudson’s young child between them. There was no mistaking the joy on the older man’s face as he looked around the room and took in his children.
