“Then I guess you don’t want me to cut you loose.”
“You are such an asshole,” I say.
He knocks a fist against my shoulder and I wince. “Get out of here. I’ll handle the rest.”
“I’m not even going to ask if you’re sure.”
“Give that girl a hug for me,” he says over his shoulder.
“I’m not giving her shit.”
His laughter follows me out of the gym and into the locker room hallway. I grab my bag from my locker, shower, and dress all in the span of a half hour. The spectators are dwindling and the stands are nearly empty when I stroll through the lobby. I get caught in a bottleneck of people trying to get out of the door so I pull out my phone.
Jack: Done. You on your way?
The congestion clears and I plunge into the parking lot with relief. I suck in a few deep breaths of the cool night air as I cross to my truck in the employee section on the side of the building. I toss my bag into the back of the truck and scan the parking lot while I wait for her response.
Thoughts of having her alone, finally, drift through my mind as I watch everyone spill out of the gym and get into their cars. It’s not until the parking lot is nearly empty that I notice her car.
Frowning, I push off from my truck and check my phone as I walk over to see if she texted me back. When a cursory glance shows no response, the hairs on the back of my neck raise and the laser-fine intuition the Corps has honed over the past year is telling me something is wrong.
I go around the side of her car, noticing her rear tire is flat. Relief floods my chest and I release the breath I was holding. I pull out my phone again.
Jack: Saw your flat. Hope you made it home okay. Did you call your mom to come and get you?
Her front door is unlocked, which makes me frown, but I pop the trunk and get the spare and jack. I’m just finishing up the last lug nut when my phone beeps.
Sofie: Yeah got a ride home. Not feeling good. See u tmrw.
I cock my head at the phone and frown. Tapping a message out will take too long, so I call her, but it goes straight to voicemail.
Three subsequent tries yield the same results.
Present
MY TIME IS up. On a number of levels.
I have less than an hour to give a response to Jack about my brothers’ fate, the lease on my townhouse is due for renewal at the end of the week, and I’ve used up every last one of my vacation days from work trying to figure out what the hell to do.
I know the right thing to do, what Jack would do in this situation.
But I’m not Jack and my heart is certainly not made of gold.
Going back to Nassau would mean more than just taking care of a couple of teenage boys—though that in itself is a problem I don’t have the answer to. Going back would rip open wounds I’ve been running from since the day I left. Wounds I rubbed raw when I spent time with Jack a year ago, leaving me bloody and exposed.
I close my eyes and lean my head against the couch as I sip a glass of wine. Jack and I have always managed to put up a pretty good—if completely see-through—front when it comes to interacting in front of his sister. When a group of people is as close as we are it’s either get along or go our separate ways. Since Livvie is my one and only true friend, I couldn’t conceive of losing her, too, even though I only see her every so often.
My phone buzzes against my thigh and I know without opening my eyes that the person on the other line is Jack. I bring the phone to my ear with my free hand. “Hello?”
“Need an answer, Sof,” Jack says, his voice coming through the line clear and throaty.
I fortify myself with a generous swallow of wine. “I know you do.”
The line crackles with his sigh. “This isn’t a game. This is their life.”
I chuckle darkly. “Trust me, I know it’s not a game.”
“Then stop acting like a kid and quit playing around.”
Tears burn and I finish off my glass, hating and loving the pleasant warmth and resulting numbness. “Yes,” I answer finally.
“You’ll do it?” he asks.
“Yes, I’ll do it.”
He sighs again, but this time I can hear the relief, even over the connection. “Good. That’s good.”
“You’ll have to give me a couple days to get everything tied up over here. Give notice at work and to my landlord, but I should be able to come back this weekend.” Having made the decision, the rest comes more easily. In for a penny.
“Yeah, that’s fine. The boys are out of school for the next few weeks so they aren’t going to miss anything and I’ve spoken to their teachers so they understand they’ll be going through some transitions at home.”
My chest burns and I choke out, “God, you would have made such a good dad.”
He pauses and clears his throat as he changes the subject, which is probably for the best. “You’re going to do fine,” he says.
I get up and cross the room to refill my glass of wine. Next to the half-empty bottle are the charred remains of the papers I’d retrieved from Mom’s house. “I guess we’re going to find out, aren’t we?”