Jacked Up (Bowen Boys #4)

Ronnie shook her head. “No, bro. It was the easiest, safest thing to do. For your heart.”

“She makes me smile, but she makes me crazy too.”

“That’s the way it’s supposed to be.”

“Not for me it’s not.”

Ronnie snorted drily. “Not for you? What are you, a different species of human or what? Because the nickname Borg is just a jab, you know that, right?”

He ignored the sarcasm. “You just want me occupied with Elle so that I won’t be on your case twenty-four-seven,” he stated, trying to change the subject.

Ronnie laughed. “You’ve been on my case since the day I was born. I would actually miss it if you weren’t. You look utterly miserable. And for a guy with fewer facial expressions than an over-Botoxed Hollywood star, that’s saying a lot.”

Yes, his poker face was suffering big-time.

“I’ve had enough of party girls for a lifetime,” he grumbled.

“Jack, our mother wasn’t a party girl. She was an egocentric, self-absorbed, entitled, piece-of-shit addict who couldn’t stand herself if she wasn’t high and who made everyone else’s existence miserable because of it. She went missing for months at a time, but she was home too and then she was just as bad, or have you forgotten? The complete opposite of Mom wouldn’t be a Pilgrim wife,” Ronnie said with a smile. “It would be a supportive, caring one who would love her family, spend time with them, and be there for them no matter what. Being outgoing and outspoken doesn’t diminish any of those characteristics. You need a strong woman, sure of herself and her self-worth to get that.”

Jack stared at his little sister, dumbfounded. “Where did that come from?”

She laughed. “All those shrink sessions you forced me to attend are finally paying off.”

He heard the rumble of the motors before he saw the pickup making its way up the steep hill. It was James. Fuck.

Ronnie blinked at him innocently.

“Can you explain to me how they found this place?” James had been there once but not even he could have remembered the way back.

“I might have given him the GPS coordinates accidentally.”

Right. Accidentally.

The motor stopped and Max, Cole, and James stepped out. A full house. Fucking fantastic.

Jack turned to Ronnie, then to the newcomers. “Does anyone understand the concept of a secret hideout, or privacy for that matter?”

Nobody bothered to answer.

“We drove around in circles for ages so you’re safe. No one followed us.”

“Anybody else coming?” Jack asked, looking at the group in front of him. “Your women? The whole of Alden? The Boston Philharmonic?”

“Christy is working. Tate and Annie wanted to come, but they didn’t want to leave Lizzie and Jonah and we were afraid crying kids would send you over the edge,” James said with a smirk. “Aunt Maggie might come later with some extra food although she’s a disaster with GPS coordinates and is bound to end up in Alaska. The Boston Philharmonic couldn’t make it; they have a rehearsal.”

“We brought some basics,” Cole said, holding a twelve-pack in one hand and some food in the other. “We all heard about your chewy protein bars and MREs. We had enough of that in the military. You got company?” he asked glancing at Ronnie and frowning.

Jack could read the guy perfectly. Cole thought Elle had been replaced and was ready to kick his ass for it.

“This is my sister, Veronica. James you know,” he told her while she nodded to him. “The one that looks like he is going to bite my head off is Cole, James’s oldest brother, and the one with the Mohawk is Max, the youngest.” Then, after the introductions, Jack added, “You shouldn’t be here.”

“We’ve given you enough time to come around. You haven’t,” James stated.

“And that didn’t clue you in?”

“Oh yeah it did. That you needed an intervention.”

“And a bash on the head,” Cole added.

He could use a good, old-fashioned bare-knuckle fight. “Who wants the first shot at me?”

James waved him off. “Later, man. First let’s find out how big the fish in that river of yours are.”

“We brought rods,” Max explained, reaching into the back of the pickup. “We figured you get your catches by paralyzing them with your asinine stare, but we aren’t that advanced.”

Ronnie’s laughter crackled in the air. “I would love to stay to watch this, but now that you all are here, I’m out. I have a bar to run.”

Jesus Christ, what was he, on suicide watch?

“Don’t make me come get you from here again,” she whispered to him after kissing him.

They watched Ronnie drive away, and as Jack was going to shoo the other men away, one of the bastards handed him an ice-cold beer and started setting camp on his front yard, by the river.

“Don’t bother. We’re not going anywhere,” James warned.

“You do know I have plenty of guns up here, right?”

“Come on, man,” Max said. “You wouldn’t shoot at us.”

Really? Because Jack wasn’t that sure.

“Fishing is therapeutic.”

“And hunting was out,” Cole added. “We didn’t want to give you a reason to shoot us and then claim it was an accident.”

Elle Aycart's books