He turned back to me. “She doesn’t have a clue who I am.”
I shrugged. “Why would she? You were twelve, and our families didn’t exactly have picnics and get-togethers.”
“I know the name of every fucking member of her family.”
“She’s not even associated with them anymore. She’s not one of them.”
He didn’t seem to care and had stopped listening to me the moment he’d seen Felicity talk to me. “God, you are such a disappointment. I was so sure you’d be different.”
I clenched my teeth. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“You spent six years in prison, man. I’ve been to county lockup for a couple of months myself, and it sucked ass. But you...you’ve done the real thing. They put you in fucking hell.”
I knew that. I knew it better than he could probably ever imagine.
“Don’t you want some vengeance for what they’ve done to us?”
I shook my head. “No. I don’t. I just want to put all that shit behind me and get on with my life. And besides, she’s not one of them.”
I’m not sure why I kept repeating that. It wouldn’t have mattered to me if she were still an active part of her family. It wouldn’t change the way I loved her.
Maybe I was just trying to warn Rocket away. Because the moment he’d glared at her, he’d become my enemy.
He didn’t seem to get the memo, though. “Well, kudos to you, man. I wish I could be so goddamn forgiving. They took our entire fucking family away. I’m not going to let that go.”
He turned away and stormed off.
“Rocket,” I growled after him.
“I’m not Rocket anymore.” He glanced back at me with a cold glare. “And you’re not my brother.”
I sighed, but let him go, because I agreed. We were no longer kin.
“Ready?” Felicity said, making me jump.
I glanced at her and could tell from the innocent lift of her eyebrows that she hadn’t overheard anything. That old urge rose to unload everything that had just happened on her, but I pushed it down. With a slight nod, I set the glasses I’d yet to put away to the side and started around the bar.
Asher reached us, just as I reached Felicity.
“Hey, why’d Rock tear out of here so fast?”
“Who?” Felicity asked, digging her keys from her purse.
“Rock,” Asher repeated. “The drummer in my band.”
“Oh. Is that his name?” She tossed the keys and caught them in the same hand. “Guess I didn’t know; we’ve never actually talked.”
Realizing she had no answer, Asher glanced at me.
I didn’t know what to tell him—I wasn’t sure if I wanted to advertise that we were brothers after what had just gone down. So I merely shrugged.
“Hmm.” He scowled thoughtfully. “Oh well.” He started to turn away but Felicity called after him.
“Hey, by the way. I loved the song you wrote for Pick.”
Asher slowed to a stop and then turned back, squinting. “What song?”
“Ceilings, the one about the girl who...” He was frowning at her so hard she stopped talking. Then she delicately cleared her throat. “You wrote that song about the girl leaving her baby at the hospital, right?”
Asher’s confused scowl deepened. “Yeah,” he drew out the answer deliberately.
“Well...” Felicity fidgeted, jiggling her keys. “Wasn’t it about Pick?”
“Why would that be about Pick? It was about a girl.”
“You know...I mean, don’t you know?” She turned to me, looking lost. “Doesn’t everyone know?”
I lifted a shoulder. “I doubt he went to the same school as us. Maybe he doesn’t know.”
Asher waved his hands. “Will someone please explain to me what you’re talking about? What don’t I know?”
“I’m sorry.” Felicity cringed. “It’s just...well, Pick was abandoned at the hospital by his mother when he was born. He spent his entire life in foster care. We, uh, Knox and I were younger than him in school, but everyone knew about it.”