“She’s moving in with our mom?” Brit’s suspicions grew.
“Nope,” Quarles said, sounding rather proud.
Brit eyed his friend and partner, and prepared himself. “With you?”
“Yeah.” Quarles smiled like a man who’d won the lottery.
Brit debated how he felt, then voiced his concern. “And you don’t think this is kind of soon?”
“No. Since you’ve been gone, she’s been here more than she’s been in Austin. We’ve gotten close. Real close.”
He eyed Quarles. “Remember, my threat still stands.”
Quarles laughed. “I love your sister. I’m not going to hurt her.”
They drove straight to Brit’s place. Quarles talked about work and about Susan. Brit half-ass listened. Once home, he dropped his suitcases and went into the kitchen. Mama Cat came to the threshold of the laundry room and peered out.
Brit edged a little closer, but she darted back inside.
“Be careful,” Quarles said. “She’s scratched me every time I’ve even tried to get close to her. She hates people.”
“She doesn’t hate people. She’s just scared.” Brit opened the fridge. His sister had bought groceries again. He got himself and Quarles a beer and they settled at the kitchen table.
“So?” Quarles asked. “You over her?”
Looking at the beer, Brit started to deny he had anything to get over. He ran his finger along the condensation of the bottle, then he answered, “As much as I’ll ever be.” He paused. “Have you heard from her at all?” Hope still vibrated in his chest, but he fought it.
Quarles shook his head. “Rumor has it that you were hard on her.”
The bitter pill hung up on Brit’s tonsils. “Yeah, I’m pretty much an asshole. I come by it naturally.”
“If it makes you feel any better, I’d probably have reacted the same way if I’d found her trying to see her ex.”
It didn’t make him feel better, but Brit nodded. “Any news on Nolan Bright?”
“DA thinks the case if rock solid. I’m hearing whispers of them asking for the death penalty.”
Brit nodded, and just stared at his beer.
“Do you love her?” Quarles downed a sip of beer.
Brit stood up and opened the fridge. “You want a sandwich?”
“Do you love her?” Quarles asked again.
Emotionally flinching, Brit shut the fridge. “No, I just spent four weeks in Mexico staring at the damn phone, praying she’d call because I don’t feel a damn thing. What do you think?”
“Then for God sakes, fight for her.”
Brit’s frustration level climbed, but it was toward himself and not him. “You don’t understand.”
“What do I not understand?” Quarles hunkered back in the chair.
Brit ran a hand over his face, unwilling to put the truth into words. “I called her every week. She didn’t call me back.”
“Hey, a few weeks ago, your sister stopped taking my calls. You want to know what I did?”
Brit scowled. “I told you not to hurt her.”
“I didn’t do anything. She just got scared because I said I loved her. But the point isn’t that. The point is that when she didn’t answer my calls, I got in my truck and drove three hours to see her in Austin. She’s that important to me.”
“Well, Mexico to Houston is a little farther than Houston to Austin.”
“What? The tequila fry your brain? You’re not in Mexico anymore.”
Brit raked a chair across the floor, but didn’t sit down. “It would be wrong.”
“Why?”
Dropping his ass in the chair, he closed his eyes, wishing he’d stayed in Mexico. “I messed up. I said terrible things to her. I hurt her. She deserves someone who can get it right.”
Quarles stared. “Sounds like you’re trying to get it right. And as for what you said, well, that’s what apologies and expensive jewelry are for. Look, I’m just saying that if you love her, fight for her.”
That damn hope stirred again. “How? She doesn’t want me.”
“Well, I’d start by going to see her. Then I’d suggest you be a real man and put your tail between your legs and beg. Get down on your knees if you have to.”
Brit crossed his arms over his chest. “Beg, huh?”
“How do you think I got Susan to open the door when I got to Austin? Did you know your sister was that stubborn? But damn, if I don’t love every stubborn inch of that woman.”
~
Brit went to bed as soon as Quarles left. Sleep had been a rare commodity in Brit’s life, but he always tried. He lay there, staring at the ceiling and thinking about Cali—about all the things he should have done differently. One word kept playing over in his head. Beg. He closed his eyes, exhausted, and prayed for sleep.
A thump on the bed brought his eyes open. Standing next to him was Mama Cat. She let out a deep meow.
“Yeah, I’m back,” he said.
She dipped her head and took another step closer.
“You know I don’t like you, right?” He held out his hand.