Penalty Play - Lynda Aicher Page 0,84

“It’s a bad time for another interrogation,” he warned the brothers, letting his glare say as much as his words.

Colin came up short, smile slipping. “Who said this was an interrogation?”

The sounds of the piano floated down at that moment, the notes circling to choke Henrik with their haunting beauty. It was only a moment before the strum of the guitar joined them, an older tune easily recognized.

“I just wanted to thank you,” Aiden said, taking a beer from Dan. “But is there a reason we should be grilling you—again?”

“Is something wrong?” Dan’s level question grated on Henrik for no real reason.

“She’s pulling back,” Aiden said quietly, his astute gaze holding Henrik’s.

He swallowed, glanced away, took another drink. Anything to avoid the question and jabbing pain in his chest.

“Don’t let her,” Colin said. “She’s just scared.”

Henrik frowned. His throat had gone dry despite the bottle of liquid he’d just consumed. Silence had always been his best friend and he latched on to it now.

The three men nudged him away from the cooler, circling better than a pack of herding dogs as they corralled him into a corner. It was tempting to stare over all three heads or, hell, just plow his way through them. He didn’t though. He couldn’t get himself to move.

“Look, Henrik,” Dan started, taking the lead. “We’re all sorry about before, that first night we met. But you have to understand. We’ve been watching out for her our entire lives.” He stared at the ground, throat rumbling as he cleared it.

“She’s strong as nails,” Colin said, squeezing Dan’s shoulder. “She’ll come out fighting almost every time, but she hides a lot too.” He motioned upstairs, the upbeat piano notes filling the pause. “In her music. Work. School. Anything that keeps her from forming relationships.”

“We all see it,” Aiden cut in. “Understand it even. Fuck.” He swiped a hand through his hair. “I can’t even begin to judge her on it. I’m no different and I was only a bystander.”

Colin nodded, expression grim. “I’m guilty there too.” He lifted his chin at Dan. “He’s the only one who somehow mastered the commitment fear.”

Dan shook his head, a sarcastic grin in place. “That’s only because I was lucky enough to find a stubborn woman who wouldn’t let me run.” He took a drink of his beer, the rest of the room fading away with their suddenly too-serious discussion. “You have to be just as stubborn,” he told Henrik.

The brothers were nodding their agreement, which didn’t help Henrik. He couldn’t back himself into the corner any farther without shoving through the damn wall. The urge to flee was strong enough to make it tempting though. Brotherly chats were not his forte. Yet they were trying to offer him advice, and he wasn’t stupid enough to blow it or them off.

“She’ll run faster if I push too hard,” he finally said, voice cutting through the harsh pasture of his throat. He knew that from his all-too-recent experience.

“Probably,” Aiden agreed. “Do it anyway.”

Henrik’s glare landed hard and hot on the man, burning with the instant resistance that enflamed him. “And shove her away faster? Not a chance.”

“Hey,” Colin broke in. “That’s not what we’re saying.”

“We like you,” Dan stated without inflection. “More importantly, Jacqui likes you. You’re the first guy she’s brought home since her leukemia relapse. She was a teenager then.” He let the importance of those words hang between them.

Henrik struggled to accept what they were saying, that he meant something to her. In his heart he believed she cared—might even love him or was growing to love him. But his mind couldn’t latch onto that. He had too much personal history establishing different beliefs to trust anything his heart tried to tell him. Love was faked or bought, and she wouldn’t let him buy her anything. And faked love definitely wasn’t what he wanted from her.

“It might come back,” he said, a hollowness overtaking him. “The leukemia. That’s what everyone’s afraid of. Right?” All three men avoided his gaze, the carpet or wall or outside view far more interesting than him. He didn’t need a verbal answer to know he was right. “What’s it like? Surviving it? Supporting her through it. What’s it like?” he demanded louder when they continued to ignore him. “Tell me.”

It was Dan who finally looked to him, lips pulled into a line of grim defeat. “Hard as fucking hell.” The words were raw with truth and pain. “There’s so little we can do. It’s

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