been part of, Brian’s moral radar was better than his. He headed back to the motel.
When he got to the room, Brian was stretched out on the bed watching TV. Nick swung the night latch closed, tossed his wallet and car keys on the dresser, and kicked off his shoes. Brian patted the bed next to him. “Come on, lie down.”
Nick left his jacket on, chilled despite the warmth of the room. He dropped to the bed beside Brian, rolling to press his face against Brian’s neck, and slipped his cold, sock-clad feet between Brian’s warm bare ones. Brian wriggled around to hold him better, easing a heavy arm around him.
“Are you okay?” Brian tensed, like he was bracing himself. “Was it… bad stuff?”
“No, not really.” With his anger melting in Brian’s supportive hold, it didn’t seem as dire. “I mean, some old perv seduced her when she was fifteen, yeah, which is shitty, but she seems like she got through it. She sounds all right now, her and the boy.” As much as he wanted to rip Perv’s guts out and wrap them around his neck, Nick had imagined even worse fates for his sister, many a dark night.
“It wasn’t Randy? The father?”
“She says no. She said Randy took her in when she hit bottom, or maybe before the actual bottom.” He could picture that bus station, those runaways and throwaways getting off in the big city, with fragile and impossible hopes, and the slimeballs who preyed on them, offering a place to stay, a compliment, a listening ear. When a day or two later, it would turn to “You know how you can pay me back, baby?” Or “Try this— you’ll feel reeeeal good.” The bottom-feeders and sharks, sucking down innocent lives… “If she’s telling the truth, he saved her from real disaster.”
“That’s good, then. Right?”
“Yeah.” He buried his face deeper and closed his eyes, breathing in the warm, Brian-scented air trapped against the pillow. “I don’t like that he’s twice her age.”
Brian’s murmur was wordless encouragement.
“I really, really don’t like that some bastard lawyer had sex with a teen girl and no one said a word. That Mrs. Taylor wouldn’t stand up for her.” Or worse, chose him over her. He ground his teeth.
“That’s sad.” Brian’s tone was somber, but without Nick’s outrage.
Nick pushed up on his elbow to look down. “It’s sick. It’s wrong!”
“Yeah.”
“I want to smash his fucking face in.”
“I bet. Who is he?”
Nick slumped. “I don’t know. She wouldn’t say.”
“Oh.”
“I want to find out.”
“Um. Did she ask you to?”
“No. She fucking knows who it was. She wouldn’t tell me.”
“What are you going to do?”
“I’m—” Some hint of unease in Brian’s expression made him stop and think. “I don’t know. I might track him down. If I found Mrs. Taylor, or whatever name she’s going by now, I could figure it out.”
“Then what? If you did find him?”
“I don’t know!” Nick pushed off the bed and whirled. “When did you turn into a shrink, with all the questions?”
“Do I sound like a shrink?” Brian’s wide eyes met his.
For a beat, Nick’s anger rose, but then a laugh surprised him, shaking his chest. “Oh yeah, exactly like Dr. Murphy.”
Brian’s expression eased into amused relief. “And how does that make you feeeel?”
“Stupid. I always feel stupid around Dr. Murphy.” He sat back on the edge of the bed. “If I do nothing, the son of a bitch will get away with it, but I bet Ari wouldn’t testify, regardless.”
Brian said in a deeper voice, “And that chafes your hide.”
“Chafes? What the hell were you watching while I was out?”
“Old reruns. Bonanza. Little Joe reminds me of you.”
“Thanks, I think.” He rubbed a hand over his head. “I should do something for her, I just don’t know what. She doesn’t need me hanging around right now. She said so. She doesn’t want me to go after Evan’s sperm donor. She doesn’t want us to come over.”
“Maybe she’s got other plans.”
“She said that.” He tugged on his hair, the little pain in his scalp somehow comforting. “I could go buy some Christmas presents. Leave them at the door. Maybe anonymously, ‘from Santa.’ Or is that like stalking?” He tugged harder. “Yeah. That’d be more creepy than good, right?”
Brian sat up and closed a hand around Nick’s, stopping his motions. “I like your hair. Don’t pull it out.”
“We should go home.” Nick slid his hand out of Brian’s and bounced to his feet. “We can get there before Christmas. Maybe