The ceremony over, guests begin to depart, but I can’t quite make myself leave just yet. It’s been a long time since I’ve caught a glimpse of my brothers and I can’t leave until I’ve seen them at least once. Like a total fucking stalker.
Once the crowd disperses, I spot Jack’s tall, powerful body immediately and God, does he look good in a suit. But even more appealing than that is the protective way he slings an arm around each of my brother’s shoulders. My fingers tighten on the material of the seat in a white-knuckled grip.
Rafe is so tall now. He nearly reaches Jack’s chest, and Donnie is in the awkward teenage stage where everything seems a little too long. The last time I really spent any time with them Rafe was three and Donnie was one. Even when I did come to town, and those times were few and far between, I kept our visits short and sweet. I’d essentially lost out on their whole lives.
Last year when Jack’s sister Olivia—my best friend—called me in the middle of the night to tell me her son had been kidnapped was the last time I’d been to Nassau. I checked in on my brothers and Mom and left soon after Livvie and her son Cole settled with her now-husband and Jack’s best friend, Ben.
In front of me, Jack ruffles Donnie’s hair and Donnie looks up at him with such blinding admiration that I reach for the passenger’s seat and snag a wrinkled tissue to dab at my running nose. It would be so much easier to stay away if Jack weren’t such a good guy. He really is, down to his core. He can snarl at me as much as he wants, but he only does that because he cares so much. Only a man with a heart of gold would step up to play role model to his ex-girlfriend’s younger brothers. Especially if that ex-girlfriend is me.
I wipe my eyes and manage to pull my gaze from the trio and sit up in alarm when I realize they’re the last ones in the cemetery. The tissue goes flying somewhere in the backseat and I hastily belt myself in, cranking the engine and peeling out of my hiding spot behind a grove of cypress trees.
The line of cars snakes over a quarter mile and I thump my hands against the steering wheel in frustration. Idiot. Idiot. Idiot. I glance in the rearview and even across the distance I can feel Jack’s eyes on mine. A shiver courses through me and I fidget in my seat whispering, c’mon, c’mon, at the cars creeping along in front of me.
A shadow that has nothing to do with the rumbling storm clouds darkens my window, and I have to take a few deep, unsteady breaths before I look up. Jack’s face fills my line of sight, one arm braced above the car door, the other already reaching for the door handle.
“I thought you weren’t coming,” he says.
I look away, my hands still gripping the steering wheel, even though the precession of cars has come to a complete halt. The words I want to say bubble up and lodge in my throat. I never should have come back.
He sighs. “Fine. We can play it your way.” I see him straighten out of the corner of my eye. “Whatever you were looking for the other day? You didn’t get all of it.” He doesn’t even have the decency to gloat when I jerk back toward him. “I’m not going to get into your business, but if it’s important enough that you’ll break into your mom’s house to get it, I figure you must need it pretty bad.”
My voice is thick with emotion and unshed tears. “Can I come get them now? Then I’ll be out of your hair.”
“Yes,” he says, “with one condition.”
“What?” Apprehension knots my stomach.
“Come by the house in about an hour. See your brothers. Talk to them. Then, if you still want to leave, I’ll give you the papers and you can go.”
Even the thought of him touching them causes bile to rise to my throat. I choke it back down. “Okay, I’ll be there.”
He studies me for a moment, his face unreadable, then he raps the top of my car with his knuckles. “If I’d known it was this easy to bribe you I would have tried it a long time ago.”
“Are you done?” I bite out.
“Yeah,” he says, “yeah, I’m done. I’ll see you in an hour. Don’t be late.”
An hour later, I return to my mother’s house and it looks completely different in the daylight. Under the cover of night, I couldn’t see the warping front steps or the peeling paint. As I unfold from the coupe and reluctantly walk to the front door, my eyes catch on a gaping hole on the far side of the porch. My chest tightens and my eyes burn. Pull it together, Varano.
Around me people buzz with conversation and I can feel their eyes on me. Whispers follow me through the front door and into the living room. It’s been cleaned since I was here last and I wonder briefly who did it. I can’t image a big, bad former Marine like Jack wielding a mop and duster. Then again, I couldn’t have pictured him as a business owner either.