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He doesn’t stop talking, and I’m starting to wish Santa and I had gotten on the same page at Christmas and got him a damn puppy.
“We’ll see.” Is as much as I say.
Mom is thrilled to have “her babies” at the house for another Friday night. I hang around the door, wondering what I’m going to do alone in my empty house with my son gone for the night. It took less than a month for me to get used to the possibility of her.
“Hey, there’s the old Aiden face I know and love.” My youngest brother drifts over to where I’m shadowing the door of my mother’s house. “Why the scowl?”
“I’m not really in the mood, Adam.” My voice is flat, and I couldn’t be more honest.
“Feel like having a drink with me? Just because Alex is out of town doesn’t mean we can’t open the tasting room.”
I hesitate a moment. Hanging with my brother is a recipe for annoyance. At the same time, I don’t want to drink alone tonight.
“Sure. Let’s go.”
He follows me out, and it’s not long before we’re seated on polished wood barstools at the reclaimed oak and brass bar inside our family’s distillery.
“A little single barrel for you.” Adam pours two fingers in my glass. “And some special reserve for me.”
I lift the tumbler, clinking it to his, and we take a sip of the smooth bourbon whiskey I’ve been using to kill the pain for the last five days.
“Talk to me, bro. What happened with you and Britt?” He leans on his forearms.
“She didn’t tell you?”
“Not a word. She just thanked me for bringing Edward home and said she had a headache, which in my experience is always code for something else.”
I decide I don’t care. I’m tired of carrying this alone.
“She’s just like them.” It’s as much as I’m able to get out.
My voice is thick, and the weight of emotion pressing down on my chest catches me off-guard.
“Them… who?”
Taking another sip, I’m able to continue. “The Baileys. They’re all tricky con artists, bending the truth to suit their purposes. I thought she was different, but she’s not.”
Adam’s brow furrows, and he rubs his finger over the lip of his glass. “We’re talking about Britt Bailey?” I cut my eyes at him likedon’t play with me, and he holds up both hands. “Just checking because I’m pretty good friends with Britt, and that doesn’t sound like her at all.”
Pain twists in my stomach, and I polish off the rest of my drink. He’s quick to pour me another inch. “She lied to me. I was going along, thinking everything was great, and the whole time, she was keeping secrets and lying… just like Annemarie.”
“What did Britt lie about?”
“Gwen.” It comes out a growl. “Gwen knew who our suspect was. More importantly, she knewwherehe was, and when Britt found out, she didn’t say a word. She went a whole week smiling to my face and going behind my back.”
My brother nods solemnly, pouring himself another shot. “That shit with Annemarie was fucked up.”
“It was.” I clink my glass against his.
“A whole year, sneaking around, sending letters. I mean, who even sends letters anymore? It’s like she wanted to get caught.”
He’s saying the words, and my stomach tightens along with my jaw. “What’s your point?”
Blue eyes lift to mine, and if he says what I think he’s about to say, I might punch him.
“I remember this one time when we were in school, and Cass wanted Piper to write her English paper for her. Even then, Piper was killer at writing. Always got theA.”
It’s not what I thought he was going to say, and my jaw relaxes. “Okay?”
