smile tugs at the corners of his mouth, and it lightens my heart to see it. “They did.”
“Wow.”
His smile grows and I realize he’s got a dimple in his right cheek—the same one I’ve seen on Sherm’s face. “It fits her, believe it or not.”
“She’s a general?”
He laughs, and for the first time an expression other than caution makes it all the way to his eyes. An electric current buzzes through my insides at the change in his face as it warms. “In her own mind, maybe. She knows what she wants, and she’s never been afraid to bowl over anything that stood in the way of getting it. Sort of the take-no-prisoners mind-set.”
“Does that attitude run in the family?”
I wish I could take it back when the warmth leaves his expression and it grows cautious again. “To some degree.”
He moves out the door, and I mentally flog myself for killing what trust I’d built. I watch from the window as he strides toward the parking lot, where Sherm is waiting at the car.
I feel like Rob might be starting to let down his guard a little, but I still know nothing. In every way that matters, Sherm’s family is still a complete mystery. One I should probably keep my nose out of. But if I’m going to help Sherm, I’m not sure I’m going to be able to do that.
Chapter 7
Rob
Watching Adri jump through hoops these past two weeks trying to bring my little brother out of his shell, I can’t help but gain some respect for her. But the thing I know beyond a doubt is that I’m the one who put him in that shell. I thought the most important thing was for him to keep his mouth shut. What I know now is that he needs to open it.
But only to the right people. That’s not Adri.
I glance at him in the passenger seat. He’s got the book Adri gave him open in his lap. He’s always loved to read, but usually it’s a running commentary. He reads a few pages, then tells anyone who will listen everything that happened and what he thinks about it before reading on. There are times, like now, that I think more than anything else, he just needs to be somewhere I’m not. The dark circles under his eyes confirm that he’s not sleeping. He tosses with his nightmares every night, wakes up around two, and slips out the door into Lee’s room.
He’s terrified of me.
I’ve lost him, and I’m pretty sure I’ll never get him back. Which means I’m the wrong person to try to teach him to fight. I’ll talk to Grant.
“How was school, champ?”
He shrugs without lifting his face from the book.
My heart knots. “Sherm?”
No response.
I pull to the side of the road, cut the engine. “Sherm.”
He tenses but still won’t look at me.
“Listen, buddy, when I told you never to talk about what happened . . . I was wrong. I think we should talk about it. Just you and me. Okay?”
He finally lifts his face and I want to die. Tears pool in his eyes and terror fills his gaze. He shakes his head, shrinks back against the door.
“Sherm, please. Talk to me.”
He sits, frozen by his fear, as I reach out to him. A tear rolls over his lashes, tracking a crooked path down his cheek.
My heart beats in my throat as I lower my hand and tip my head into the headrest. I close my eyes, pull a deep breath, fight to keep my shit together. “I’m so sorry, Sherm,” I finally say. “I’m so sorry.”
I open my eyes and turn the ignition. I don’t look at him again, because it will kill me to see him looking back at me in horror.
But my guard is instantly up again when we pull up to the house and find a green VW Beetle parked in the driveway.
“Stay here,” I tell him.
He flinches away from me when I reach for the glove box. I try to palm my piece so he won’t see it as I pull it out, but when I hear the faintest of whimpers, I know I wasn’t successful.
I step out of the car, move up the stairs to the porch, the Glock leading the way. When they groan under my weight, I spit a curse on a breath. I duck behind the wall next to the door, steal a glance through the window. The living room is empty. Lee’s back is