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29
Ian
Ian held the phone to his ear. It went straight to voicemail. He gripped it tightly, tempted to throw it on the floor of the truck. Brock glanced at him out of the corner of his eye. “Voicemail again?”
Ian’s jaw clenched. He stared out the front window and pulled up the tracking app. The glowing icon that represented Brock’s phone had disappeared shortly after he tried calling it. The last known location was in some neighborhood just outside of town. He’d written the address down for the agents, insisting he needed to keep his phone in case Jessica called him. But now there was no evidence of her anywhere in the tracker.
Jabbing the refresh button, Ian prayed it would reappear and that Jessica had only turned the phone off to avoid him. That would have been better than where his thoughts were taking him. She could be in trouble. Worse, she could be dead. His whole body had been tense since the moment he’d found out she was gone. Brock should have never let her leave.
“She’ll be okay, Ian. She’s resilient.”
Ian cursed. “What iswrongwith you?”
Brock frowned but didn’t meet his gaze.
“Aren’t you worried about her? Do you haveanyremorse for letting her leave?”
Brock’s hands tightened on the wheel. “Of course I do, Ian.”
“Then why didn’t you stop her?” Ian yelled.
His brother didn’t even flinch. “I don’t know.”
A derisive laugh escaped Ian’s lips. “You don’t know. That’s rich.” He shook his head. “You can’t stand it that I’m happy, can you? Just because you couldn’t make a marriage work doesn’t mean that the same thing will happen to me. Jessica is not Madison.”
“Don’t you think Iknowthat?” Brock hissed. “I guess I figured if she was going to leave, there would be no stopping her. You have to understand that you can’t control everything, Ian. You might not see it, but I do. Everyone does. She has to make her own choices. You can’t be there to protect her every second of every day.”
Ian fumed in his seat. He stared at the dark screen of his phone, trying to find some crack in Brock’s reasoning. His brother had to be wrong. Ian wasn’t controlling. Not in a bad way. Everything he’d done for Jessica had been for her own good. He was trying to help her because he loved her.
“You’re smothering her, Ian,” Brock said quietly. “You have to let her be her own person, make her own mistakes. Believe me. When I was with Madison…” He shrugged. “I made those same mistakes too.”
The pain was so prevalent in his voice Ian wanted to take back every hurtful thing he’d said about Brock’s relationship. He glanced at his brother. But the truth was, Ian was still hurting from Brock’s betrayal.
Ian turned toward the window. What Brock had said sounded an awful lot like what his mother had told him. He needed to give Jessica space if he wanted to have a strong relationship with her. When this was all over, that would be the first thing he did. No more pushing her to do things she wasn’t ready for. He already loved her for who she was. She didn’t have to change.
That must have been what she was ranting about earlier. Jessica was so focused on their differences, and at the time, he hadn’t understood. Ian glanced in Brock’s direction. It had taken his brother messing everything up for it to finally click.
Ian shifted his focus to the mirror out his window. A caravan of vehicles followed them as they made their way through the pass. They’d arrive at the address on his phone within the next fifteen minutes. Then they could give the DEA agents the flash drive and take Jessica home.
Home.
He smiled. After things had settled down, he’d remind Jessica of his feelings for her and tell her he’d wait as long as it took. He could already see their future together. They’d live on the ranch and raise a few children of their own. They just had to get to her before anything happened.
Ian cleared his throat and turned to Brock. “I still think you were in the wrong when you let Jessica leave.”
Brock grunted.
“But I’m sorry for what I said.”
His brother shot him a cautious look before returning his focus to the road. “Thanks.”
“And maybe you’re right.”
Brock’s lips twitched, but he didn’t say anything.
Ian sighed. He rested his elbow near the window on the door to his right and placed his head in his hand. “Maybe I’ve been a little obsessed with keeping control over everything.”
Brock snorted. “A little?”
