“That “brother” you have, the one that kisses your dad’s ass, treats your mom like a nursemaid and will until the day he dies is not a brother.” Luke kept at me and my lungs seized. “He used you growing up as a scapegoat and you let him in order to shield him from your dad, and I know you felt guilty for leaving him behind when you went into the Navy. But he is not worth that emotion. CJ is a man-child partly because you became the whipping boy and he never had to take responsibility for his actions. Now he’s a dick and he blames you that he’s near thirty and lives at home with mommy and daddy. News flash, it’s not your fault, and no brother—not a real fucking one—would blame his brother for bad shit that happens to him. So with that reminder, I have to ask, did you fucking forget who I am?”
I didn’t answer. Instead, I stumbled behind my desk, plopped my ass in my chair, and like a pussy, wouldn’t look at the man who’d been more of a brother to me than my blood. A man I called my friend and it was an honor to do so. And lastly, a man whom I admired.
Fuck.
“Yeah, Luke, I forgot who you were,” I admitted.
“You remembering now?”
“Yep.”
“See you don’t forget again.”
And that was it. He walked to the door, exited, and the door closed behind him.
That was Luke. My brother. My teammate. Pissed as shit I’d think he blamed me. He pointed it out in true Luke-fashion. Then he’d let it be done and he’d damn well expect you to be done and move on, too. No apology needed. No other words. Just that.
Could it be that easy?
21
“Should we run away?” I asked when Trey drove out of the Triple Canopy parking lot.
“Might not be a bad idea.” He chuckled then asked, “How was your visit with your mom?”
“It went,” I answered noncommittally.
“It went?”
“Yeah, as in, it went exactly like I knew it would.”
“She give you a hard time about me?” he asked, no longer sounding amused.
As a matter of fact, he sounded disappointed.
“No. And I probably shouldn’t tell you this but she’s all for us. Us being you and me in a relationship and you and me living together.”
I turned from the windshield in time to see Trey’s brilliant smile.
“Why shouldn’t I know that?”
“Because you’ll think you have the upper hand,” I told him.
“Right.”
His smile grew, and after the day we had, I was glad for it. I shelved asking him about what my dad had said even though I really wanted to know. I wanted him smiling more.
“Anyway. My mom was further disappointed when she didn’t get to share motherly wisdom, make me see reason, and extol the virtues of a strong man, seeing as I’d already come to my own conclusions.”
“What conclusions are those?”
“Well, we’re giving this a try. You and me. And that means I’m gonna trust you even if I’m scared as heck. It’s only been a couple of days but it feels good so I’m gonna trust that, too. Mom was all fired up to help me see the light and was bummed when I told her I already saw it.”
Trey’s smile faded and my worry hit my stomach. He’d endured two days of my dad and brother giving him shit; maybe they’d made him see the light—that being I wasn’t worth all the crap they were giving him.
“Means a lot to me,” he said, his voice thick, and that worry slid clean away.
Trust. I’d promised myself I was going to trust him.
“The better part of the visit was when Mom started bossin’ Quinn about her wedding. Mom’s still salty Quinn and Brice are getting married at Uncle Clark and Aunt Reagan’s.”
“Why would your mom be mad about that? I’ve been to the house—it’s beautiful and one of the few places where all five thousand of you can get together and not have the neighbors complain about taking over the street with cars.”
He was correct. My aunt and uncle lived outside of town with no close neighbors. The only other person in the family who could host a get-together and not have people complain was Jackson and Tuesday. Tuesday had inherited her family’s sprawling mansion. It wasn’t a mini-mansion like Trey had. It was a real Southern mansion, real in the sense it had a music room, a parlor, a