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John’s jaw locks in place. “Just looking at some pictures, George.”
“You have no right!” The older man’s chin shakes.
Wide-eyed, the two women chatting on the sofa go still.
“Why are you here anyway?”
“I was invited, George.” In John’s arms, Brayden whines.
The patio door screeches again. “A mistake! I don’t know what Dani was thinking, all that mushy, bleeding-heart drivel of hers.”
“What’s going on here?” Tyler stalks across the room.
George wheels on the younger man. “I don’t know why you agreed to this. He shouldn’t be here.” A frail finger jabs the air.
“I couldn’t agree more, Grandpa.” Tyler swoops in and snatches Brayden out of John’s arms. “You really do have a lot of nerve,Dad.”
Dani jogs onto the scene. Her boyfriend wrenches away from the palm she lays on his arm.
John sharpens his stance. “Take it easy there,son.”
Tyler spins on his girlfriend. “You shouldn’t have invited him, Dani. I don’t know why I agreed to it, but you know what? I’ve changed my mind. There’s no way I’m going to let him worm his way into our lives and destroy Brayden or even myself, not like he destroyed Mom!”
I think I gasp. I must have, because Tyler’s wrathful disdain lands on me. “I don’t know who you are or why you’re here. I’d assume it’s because you’ve got as much gall as he does—but then, maybe you don’t know?”
My stomach seizes at the calculation in his eyes.
“Tyler, don’t.” Dani clutches his sleeve. He swats her off with a ferocity that’s frightening.
Beside me, John, always composed, has gone perfectly still. “I’ll leave, Tyler.”
“Not fast enough,” he grinds.
John puts his hand on my waist and moves for the front door. I’m desperate to get out of here, but, “My purse.” I take a few steps toward the kitchen where I left it. Judy meets me halfway and slaps it into my hands. “You know what he did, don’t you?”
“Judy,please. This is Brayden’s birthday party. We have company.”
The older woman whirls on her granddaughter-in-law, or whatever their official relationship is. “I don’t care! She should know—everyone should know—what he did!”
My eyes reflexively follow her finger’s trajectory to John, a statue in the doorway. My breath grinds to a halt. When have I seen such pain?
Trembling, like a hurricane-force wind blew through, Judy pierces the air with her gnarled finger one more time.
“The world should know that he murdered my daughter!”
∞∞∞
The agony carved into John’s face for all to see there in that house of family horror was epic.
Which is why his utter composure in its wake confounds me. Even speed. Obedient signaling. Safe lane changes. If my own eyes hadn’t seen…
If his square jaw weren’t sharpened like a flint arrow, if his cheek didn’t sporadically flinch, I’d think him the coldest soul.
Murder.
What do I do with that? He’s not offering, and I don’t feel the freedom to ask.
I don’twantto ask. The answer could well send me over the edge.
