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“Turn myself into Charlie and Bells.”
“Fuck this,” Broderick, of all people, growled as he ran an angry hand over his short hair, kicking at the gravel, sending it skittering against the chain-link fence with a metallic clatter. The hanging mist felt even more ominous as his chronically maintained composure broke, despite the spots of sunlight. It felt like the world was trying to tell me the darkness would eventually scatter for something better, but we weren't quite there yet. “This is fucking bullshit.”
“Love you too, man,” I said, smirking. There was nothing in the world that ate Broderick alive quite like injustice.
“I fucking mean it. That fucker is fucking with our fucking family and it’s fuckingbullshit.” Broderickrarelyswore. It was even more rare than Noel—his propensity for doctorate-level dictation winning out unless he was seeing red.
“Well. You certainly demonstrated the variety of the word,” El said, fighting a laugh. “Now, what’s our plan?”
“I head to Charlie. You guys come up with a way to flip the script—rattle this motherfucker’s cage for once. We meet back at the big house. Charlie was already calling in old Judge Cullen.”
“Good. Rob is headed down now,” my dad said calmly as the roar of the engines filled the space. Broderick’s father, Rob, had been our family attorney for decades, not that we’d needed one for more than writing wills and chilling on a retainer for a moment such as this.
We stood in stoic silence as we watched the Connelys leave our island, taking the deafening whir with them, a line of middle fingers saluting them as they took off. I lamely prayed the damn thing would go down over the ocean, knowing it would never be that easy, before glancing at my watch and cursing under my breath.
“I gotta roll. Charlie bought me time, but I gotta get there before somebody gets dispatched to the house.”
“We’ll come with you. Take the truck,” Axel offered, but Elora snaked her way through them to throw her arms around my neck. When she pulled back, her face was ghostly pale and deadly serious. Short curls tucked behind her ears, I studied her determined jaw and stiff shoulders.
“James, I want to respect your choices here, but I think you should tell her. Give her a chance to say what she needs to say,” Elora coaxed, as I turned to face them all. She was right. I knew she was right. But the idea of seeing her cry—over me—was enough to bring me to my knees.
“El, I can’t. Just don’t.”
“She deserves—”
“More than I can ever give her. But I’ve got to walk in there with my head tall, not groveling at her feet. I can’t do this if I have to see her hurting. Please. Just.” Pain lanced through her expression, tears brimming in those usually bright eyes for a beat before she threw her arms around my neck again, a shudder rolling through her. Well, fuck, if I had to watch her break too, I might cave anyway. “I’ll be home tonight. It’s early. Cullen is heading down, and Rob is on it. Which reminds me…” Gingerly, I freed myself, passing her to Broderick as he opened his arms. I fished the envelope out of my back pocket, unfolding it as I passed it to Milo. “This should be plenty for bail, and then some.”
“Son, your mother and I can help you—”
“You will not be paying formychoices. End of fucking story.” He nodded, seeming to understand that I needed to do this my way. Needed to take care of this on my own. “Thank you,” I replied gruffly, before pulling them each into a hug.
As Axel’struck pulled into the police station beside me, my chest constricted. Every inch of my body vibrated with adrenaline, colliding with the desire to hold her, to feel her lips on mine. Fear riddled my spine. She was going to hate me for this. I knew it. Knew it, but couldn’t be man enough to watch her break with me as Charlie came out of the precinct, jaw set and twelve kinds of misery carved into his stiff features.
“Be careful, son,” Dad said softly, shaking his head as he stared down the entire building. “There are many ways to destroy someone. But targeting their loved ones is undoubtedly the most effective.” Boy, like I didn’t fucking know it.
“Well,” I breathed, glancing sidelong at Milo. “This is going to suck.”
Noel
Jameson
I love you Noel. Please trust me.
The last messageI’d received was taunting me from where it still sat open on my screen like a fucking condolence card. A reminder that something was very wrong, and nobody was answering my damn calls. Like a death in the family, a heavy blanket had settled over the house. I’d responded. Hell, I’d respondedthreetimes as terror crushed my windpipe when he didn’t answer my calls.
Neither did Broderick, Axel, El, or Max, for that matter. I’d gone as far as calling the twins and Mav, before pacing myself into a frenzy when Jameson still hadn’t come back by dinnertime. Not that the bile scaling my throat would allow me to even think about making food. He should’ve been back. He was supposed to be making sure Eric got on his damn plane and off the island, but the clock in the foyer had ticked me into madness as the sun made its arc behind the spotty cloud coverage.
When I finally caved and called Rhyett, only hearing his voice via the answering machine, I slammed my feet into rain boots and stomped towards the door. Everything in my body said something had gone very, very wrong. It might have been unhinged, but Christ himself could’ve walked through the front entryway and not been able to convince me otherwise. When the door smashed into the hall wall with enough force to rattle the lone picture frame in the entryway, I came to a dead stop, finding Elora on the front stoop with her head in her hands, and Broderick sitting beside her with his arm around her shoulders, his head resting against her.
“What happened?” my voice cracked out the two weak words. El’s face was tear-streaked when they both turned to face me. Before she could say something, the rumble of rubber on gravel snapped all our heads forward, and relief galloped through my veins at the sight of that silver truck. I sprinted forward, relief coursing through me as Jameson flew out of the front seat, engine still rumbling where he’d abandoned the vehicle in park. He met me with every ounce of urgency as I threw myself around him. I needed to climb this man like a tree. And for a beat, as his mouth took mine, I forgot they’d all been radio silent, forgot the hours of fear that had just consumed my day as our bodies demanded a proper greeting.
Feet settled on the driveway, I came up short when he went to cradle my face and my eyes snagged on the black across his thumb. Stomach bottoming out, I snatched his wrist, pulling his hand down as his eyes slid shut in resignation. I splayed his palm open in one of mine, heart leaping into a full sprint as I took in the ink on his fingers. Ink like…fingerprints.
My body stiffened in his arms, chest cracking wide open as realization dawned.
“Jameson?”
Jameson
