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He cleared his throat. While Cole’s words were far from heartfelt or even remotely welcoming, the fact that he’d asked the question meant he was interested.
“1994.”
Cole nodded, then bit the skin at the corner of his mouth and turned to Nash. “What year’d they leave us?”
“Mmm. ’92 maybe?” Nash mused. “Who raised you?” The rapid-fire question came at Toth.
“Sherry and Edmund Holmes.”
Cole snorted and shook his head, then paced to the window and back. “You’re telling me those fuckers abandoned their four sons and turned around less than two years later and had another one?”
The moisture left Toth’s mouth and he cleared his throat. “Yeah, doesn’t make much sense to me either, but—”
“But nothing.” Disdain painted Cole’s brooding features. “Brother or not, you’re not one of us.” He held out his hand toward Toth. “You and your fucking suit. You look like a banker,” he chortled.
Toth slipped his hand inside his shirt pocket and pulled out a card. “Owner and operator of Backcountry Protection Services.” He smiled. “Bodyguard, not banker. You weren’t even close.”
Cole didn’t accept the card.
Nash stood. “Well, this was nice.” He clapped Toth on the back. “Look, we’re all grown men. What do you want? Buddies? You won’t find that here. I barely even like any of these guys and I grew up with them,” he said, shooting a glance at Cole.
Toth shrugged. “Just wanted to see for myself if it was true.”
Understanding flickered in Nash’s gaze. “Are they still alive?”
He gave one nod. “Mom is. Dad... well, he left when I was young so I don’t know what happened to him.”
Nash’s shoulders lowered as if the prospect of their parents being alive was too much. “Did they tell you about us?” His voice was soft, almost sad.
Toth rubbed his knuckles with his thumb. “No, they didn’t.”
“Then how’d you know?”
Silence stretched out. Emotion filled Toth’s throat, making the words heavy on his tongue. He’d never forget the screams from his mom’s bedroom. The deep, guttural cries of a mother who’d lost—no, abandoned—her children.
He closed his eyes as the memory washed over him, pulling him back to the tiny, two-bedroom, piss-stained trailer.
“Well?” Cole pressed.
“I heard her,” Toth said on a breath. He tugged at his shirt collar but the action didn’t gain anymore airway. “She was drunk. Screaming and crying in her sleep.” He paused and kept his gaze on Cole. “She called for you first. Said she was sorry... something about the water. That she should have been there. I can’t remember.”
The emotion made it more difficult to speak, but like a freight train from hell he couldn’t stop. “Then Dallas. Asked him to watch over Dare.”
Turning his head to Nash, his gut fisted with the memory. “She called you her baby. Then just kept saying, “My boys, my boys.”
Tension vibrated the room.
Nash’s face turned stark white. He didn’t move.
Cole broke the silence, barreling across the hardwood floor and shoving Toth’s shoulder. He pushed him toward the door, not giving him a second to catch his footing.
“What the—”
“Get the fuck out,” Cole said, gripping his hand on Toth’s collar as he yanked open the front door. “Don’t come back.” He shoved Toth in the chest, sending him staggering onto the porch.
The door slammed shut.
Toth stared at the solid wood, the barrier bigger than the lifetime of questions he’d endured.
