We never talk about it, but it’s pretty obvious our father keeps my little brother on a short leash, which is upsetting. But what’s even more of a mind-fuck is why the hell my grown ass brother doesn’t tell the man to kiss his ass and take off.
It’s as if he lacks the confidence to stand up to the man, which is totally my fault.
Damn, if I could make it up to him, I would.
This’ll be a good start or at least a step in the right direction.
“Brae man, can I ask you a question?”
“What’s up?”
I keep my gaze focused on the distant mountains. “Do you have plans tomorrow?”
I can see him staring at me from my peripheral vision. “No. Why?”
“You think you can hang with Layla for the day?”
He stares at my profile for a few seconds. “Thank fuck . . .” He breathes out a long relieved breath. “You’re goin’.” There’s a smile in his voice.
“Yeah, man.” I turn toward him. “I’ll go, but you have to promise me you’ll keep an eye on my woman.”
“Got nothing else to do.” He shrugs. “Besides, I like my eyes on your woman.”
I pin him with a scowl. “I’m serious. Don’t fuck around. It’s important to me.”
The rational side of me knows nothing is going to happen in the six or so hours that I’m gone, but there’s no sense in taking chances, not when it comes to her.
“You got it, no fuckin’ around.” He drops his head back to stare up at the sky. “Tomorrow. That’ll be perfect.”
I glare at him. “Perfect for what?”
“It’s Saturday. Dad’ll be home.” He says it as if it’s no big thing, as if Dad and I’ll spend the afternoon watching a game and fighting over whose team is better.
“And that’s good?”
His expression grows serious. “It is.”
“I don’t get any of this, but I swear to shit if I end up getting ambushed by some parental dilemma I will hunt you down and beat the snot out of you.”
I expect a smile, maybe even a laugh, but all he does is dip his chin in understanding.
“Not gonna lie, man. This is the weirdest crap you’ve ever asked me to do.”
“It’ll make sense soon enough, brother.” He pushes up and takes another pull off his beer. “I’m off.”
A small grin tilts my lips. “Oh so that’s it? You got what you want, so you’re out?” I mock pout. “I feel so used.”
“Don’t act like you care.” He moves through the open door and into the kitchen. The sound of his empty bottle hitting the trash can filters out from inside. “It’s been fun, but I’ve got a date with a manipulative Vegas girl.” He throws the words over his shoulder as he passes through the living room.
I don’t walk him out, but stay with my ass planted on my patio. “Use a rubber!”
“Idiot,” he mumbles just before I hear the front door open and close.
Shit . . . I’m going back to Orange County tomorrow. I didn’t tell my brother that I already booked my flight, just in case I changed my mind.
But it’s done now. I just hope I don’t regret it.
After I suck down the last of my beer, I head to bed and find Layla sitting up, her back against the headboard, glasses on, and remote pointed at the television.
Click. Click. Click.
I move through the room, taking off my clothes and throwing on some flannel pants. The TV screen continues to flash with different channels, her eyes glazed over and staring.
Click. Click. Click.
I stand at the edge of my side of the bed, moving my gaze back and forth between my zoned-out woman and the flicking television screen.
“Mouse, baby, you going for a record?”
“Huh?” Her eyes move to me, and she pushes up her glasses at the bridge of her nose.
I point to the remote. “There. You trying to see how many clicks you can get in a solid hour? Going for Guinness book?”
A tiny blush colors her cheeks. “Oh”—she drops the remote onto the down comforter—“no, I was just looking for something to watch.”
“Right.” I pull back the sheet and crawl in next to her, pulling her down and onto my chest. “Maybe you could hold off for a second? I need to talk to you about something.”
She tilts her face up, resting her chin on my chest, worry pinching her brows. “Sure, what’s up?”
“Turns out my presence has been requested in Orange County.” I run my knuckles up her soft cheek and pull her glasses off to place them on my bedside table.
She blinks rapidly before her eyes widen. “The General?”
“No, if it were him who wanted me there, he’d just show up and drag me back or send his thugs to get me.” A humorless laugh burst from my lips and sadness washes over her face. I run my thumb between her eyebrows to smooth the worry. “Actually, it’s my mom. Guess she gave up trying to get me to come home, so she sent Brae.”
“That’s great, right?” The corner of her mouth lifts a little. “You miss her; you have to.”