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65
Camdyn
Earlier the same day . . .
Mom had stayed behind while pretty much all of our clan celebrated Blythe’s success. On the plane ride this morning, I messaged Willow about my change of plans. Her response was about Tatum’s devastation over River. I’d tipped half a fucking smile. Her reply was a step in the right direction.
Now, I’m at The Twin Towers Correctional Facility, gripping a sticky phone in my hands while staring at River on the opposite side of the glass.
My eyes say it all: the fuck did you do?
He sniffs then places on a wry smile. “Remember when we had that fun in ninth grade, Spring Break weekend.”
For a pair of horny ass teens, it sounds like we’re reminiscing on a bunch of girls. Nothing could be further than the truth. We stole a couple of rides from a bike shop. We made lousy thieves. A dude I call Uncle Nolan got us out of that jam while the business owner said we’d end up in jail.
Shit, he’s been locked up seventy-two hours and already letting crap get in his head. “Screw what motherfuckers say, Riv.”
His shoulder lifts. “I’ve believed shit like that my entire life.”
“Tatum—”
“I finally had that little bitch.”
“Misses your sorry ass. She begged her dad . . .” I trail off when River gestures toward the docking station, a subtle threat he’s done with the call.
I place my palms up. I get it. Hardening his heart to the girl he’s called his true love makes being locked up a little more bearable. “I got an attorney coming to see you next week. His firm has reached out to the public defender.”
“Tell Nan thanks for me. I miss your mom so bad right now.” He groans, mumbling about wishing he had taken me up on the offer to visit Boston.
I run a heavy hand over the back of my neck. I returned for two reasons, Willow and so that River doesn’t break, being a caged animal here. “My mom didn’t go to Boston. She would be here too, but Jamie flipped out on her this morning.”
“That little disrespectful shit!”
“Yup. He snapped.”
“Man, when Nan offered me a room all those years ago, I wish,” he breaks off, jaw flexed. “Eh, I’m done wishing. I’m a fuck up. Glad to see one of us has reformed. Fuck, prison.”
* * *
After spending the rest of the day searching for Jamie, I drop by my old home. Mom’s sitting in the kitchen, elbows planted on the table. Her palms collect a million tears.
“Did you find your bràthair?” she asks in Gaelic.
“He can’t be far.” While she wipes away tears, I continue guiltily muttering, “He’s wandered off all summer. I’m sure he’s fine. You searched all day? I’ll check out a few spots bright and early tomorrow.”
“Searched all week. Big Brody said not to look for the laddie while you all were gone. He never worries.”
I clasp her wet cheeks and kiss her forehead. “Nah, you worry for all of us. You, also, don’t listen to Dad. That’s another thing, Mom. When the house’s empty, you don’t feed yourself.”
“Och, look at these legs and this tummy, is your Mam lacking any sustenance?”
I open the takeout bag of sausages and fries.
She groans. “Uncle Gowan’s bringing Brennan at the end of the week. Gowan’s suffered for so long, and Brennan’s troubled. I’m nae help to your cousin.”
I place the plate in front of her. “Brennan will not only have his Aunt Nan there to support him but seven male cousins to knock him down a size if he forgets himself.”
A soft smile forms on her face. “Seven? Even Jake, aye?”
