AllFreeNovel
Share Us
It’s a step down from the house they lived in when I knew them, but I suspect there’s a whole lot that’s changed in the last decade.
I know I have. I’m not the same man they knew. Or maybe I am, and they just never really knew me at all. The more I thinkabout my past and the person I was, the more I wonder if I was ever really happy, if I ever really loved my wife.
I know that sounds fucked up, but we were high school sweethearts. She was my best friend’s sister. Her best friend was his high school sweetheart. It was always the four of us against the world, and I’ve often wondered if maybe the reason we stayed together, the reason we didn’t go our separate ways like so many couples do at our age, was because of the bond the four of us had, more so than love.
Or perhaps that’s just what I tell myself when the guilt eats me alive at night.
“Took your time,” he grumbles, pushing the door open wider for me to pass.
“You called me five hours ago. I would hardly call that taking my damn time considering I live in another state.”
I take in the space around me as I pass my ex-best friend and brother-in-law. The house is run down and well lived in, but it’s clean and tidy, just as their home has always been.
Edward has always been a bit of a clean freak and although Sandra is messy as hell, they seem to counteract one another.
“Wanna tell me what the fuck this is about?” There’s no point in beating around the bush. I want to get the hell out of Boston before the end of the day, and the more time I spend standing around in his entryway, the less likely that is to happen.
He glares at me as he closes the door, and I finally take him in. His copper hair is beginning to turn gray, his brown eyes duller than they were the last time I saw him. I don’t know how the fuck that’s possible considering it was the day of his sister’s funeral when he told me to stay the hell away from his family.
His gaze darts up the stairs and I follow his eyes, but there’s nothing there. He gestures for me to follow him, and I trail after him despite not wanting to take one more step into this place without knowing what this is about.
If it hadn’t been over a decade, I would think maybe he’d brought me here to kill me, but that doesn’t seem likely after all this time.
He takes a seat on the green sofa that probably should have been replaced a few years ago and leans forward, pouring himself a shot of vodka and looking up at me with silent question.
I nod and sit across from him. The old sofa creaks under my weight, and I really fucking hope the thing doesn’t cave in.
I’m not a small guy by any stretch of the imagination. My insomnia means I have no end of time to work out, and adding muscles to my six-foot-seven frame makes me heavy as hell.
I’m still reaching for my shot when Edward takes his and immediately pours himself another. He was never much of a drinker, which has unease settling low in my stomach.
“I killed Mason Spade’s brother.”
My brows shoot into my hairline as I stare at him for a few long seconds. Did I hear him right? Surely my straightlaced brother-in-law, the man who wouldn’t even smoke a joint with us in high school, didn’t just say he killed someone.
“After Clarissa died. Nathan Hayes helped me cover it up.”
I pull the bottle of vodka closer to me and refill both glasses again, because suddenly liquor is the only way I’m going to be able to make any sense out of the words he’s saying.
“And now he’s coming after Isla. It’s a long story, but that’s why I called you.”
“I’m not sure what you think I can do for you, Edward. I have no ties in Boston, no connections, and from what I know, the only mutual contact I have is with the Hayes family.”
“I need you to marry Isla.”
I choke on the vodka that’s halfway down my throat, making the cheap liquor burn all the way down. What the fuck did he just say?
“No way.” I shake my head. “Have you lost your goddamn mind?”
“It’s the only way I can think to keep her safe,” Edward argues.
“How the fuck does my marrying your daughter, my goddamn niece, keep her safe?” I’m aware of my voice raising, but I can’t help it. Every word out of his mouth is more fucking insane than the last.
“She’s not your niece,” he points out. “Not by blood anyway.”
“Because that makes it so much better,” I deadpan.
“Spade won’t come after her if she’s with you, if she’smarriedto you. Your ties with the Saint James family will keep her safe.”
