“Look, I know this is a fucked-up situation all around, but you have to leave her alone. I can’t have one of my guys up on harassment charges.”
“I’m not harassing her,” I bite out as I picture her wounded eyes flashing in my head.
“I’m not saying you are. I’m saying stay away because you’re likely not the only person pissed she is back. If something happens, I don’t want you to be their number one suspect.”
I take that in and find that, as pissed as I am, I don’t want anyone else turning up to harass or hurt her.
As if sensing where my brain has gone, he leans back and eyes me critically. “Get one of the guys to stay with you temporarily. Or have Katy stay, just in case shit goes down next door. That way, you have an alibi.”
A knock on the door stops him from saying anything else. “Come in,” he calls out.
Felix pokes his head in. “Got the Mayor on the line. Wants to talk to you about something and refuses to leave a message or talk to anyone else.”
Blake sighs, rubbing his hand through his hair. Brian Dexter is not a bad guy as far as town mayors go. He’s been friends with my parents for years, so I probably know him better than the others. Even so, he does tend to believe his own hype. He fully expects everyone to drop everything for him, and most people do. Blake, however, is not like most people.
“Tell him I’ll call him back in five. I’m in a meeting.”
Felix smirks before saluting Blake and leaving.
“You can take the damn call, Blake. This isn’t important.”
“We’re a team here, or did you forget that?”
“Yeah, all right, that’s fair. But Sorrow has nothing to do with the team. All this went down before I worked here,” I remind him.
“And if shit went down with Felix or Aiden, shit from their past, you’d…what? Leave them to figure it out on their own?”
I sigh. “You know I wouldn’t.”
“Then get the fuck over yourself. We’re a family, so I’m gonna let that shit slide for a minute because families fuck up. But I’m serious about what I said. Leave the girl alone to do what she has to do and give your parents a heads up. I don’t know Sorrow. She would have been just a little kid when I enlisted, so I have no side in this other than yours. That doesn’t mean I want Tempest residents turning into some vigilante mob and starting shit that spills over onto the rest of us.”
“Yeah, yeah, I get it.”
“Good. You get to the point where you need to blow off steam, tag Arlo in, and go a few rounds with him. Maybe that motherfucker can knock some sense into you.”
“I think I’ll pass. I’m not looking for a concussion or a broken limb. Thanks for the offer, though,” I snark back. Blowing off steam is one thing, but Arlo is a fucking savage in the ring. He might be older than the rest of us, but he could put each of us on our asses without even blinking.
Blake chuckles and nods his head to the door, indicating silently for me to get the fuck out. I get to my feet and do just that, chuckling when he picks up the phone. I tug the door closed behind me as I hear Blake greet the mayor with a frustrated tone.
“Brian. Given your persistence, I assume you have an emergency.”
I park outside my parents’ house and take a deep breath, wanting to do this about as much as I want to catch an STD.
I stare up at the house I grew up in and wonder, not for the first time, how other people really view us. On the surface, everyone is polite and friendly to my parents. But as I’ve gotten older, I have noticed that it’s a curt politeness, with not a single ounce of affection. Katy and I are greeted with smiles and genuine warmth, but there is a cold aloofness between many of the locals and my parents. For the life of me, I can’t remember if it has always been this way or if it started after Alec died. It would make sense—my parents needed to pull away from the neighbors who were always up in everyone’s business while they licked their wounds and healed. But they never really healed. Alec’s death was a massive blow to the Bannerman family, damaging the foundations of what made us, us. Instead of trying to fix it, it did nothing but spawn dozens of tiny fractures elsewhere that bled into everyday life. Case in point—their relationship with Katy and me.
Not having time to think about that right now, I get out of my truck and take in the large house that was the envy of my friends growing up. It’s a huge five-bedroom, six-bathroom place with the same dollhouse vibe as the rest of this town. Painted a pale blue that gets refreshed every couple of years, and with bright white shutters and window boxes in full bloom, the place looks like something from a magazine on the outside, even if the inside feels less inviting than it used to.
I walk up the path, glancing down at the neatly mowed lawn, and take a deep breath, bracing myself for the shitshow that’s about to start. I let myself in and head toward the voicesechoing from the kitchen. They’re not yelling, but I can hear the angry tones and sharp, waspish stings in their words as I step into view. Surprisingly, I expected to see my mother and father. Instead, I find my mom angry, snarling at Dora, the housekeeper.
“What’s going on?” I ask, not liking the dejected look on Dora’s face. She’s been a stable part of our lives for as long as I can remember. Calling her the housekeeper doesn’t begin to cover all the roles she has played over the years, ranging from cleaner and cook to tutor and nanny.
“Nothing for you to worry about, Jake. What are you doing here?” my mother asks, smoothing the invisible creases on her pressed pink blouse. She has it teamed with a pair of white linen pants and her highlighted hair pulled back into a tight ponytail. It doesn’t matter if she’s going to the grocery store, a PTA meeting, or just lounging around on a Sunday afternoon—my mother is impeccably dressed. I’ve always thought it would be cool to see her let her hair down, maybe lie about watching cooking shows in sweats—or the reality TV crap Katy likes, in leggings—because she never seems to truly relax. But, as an adult, I think it’s more than being unable to relax. I think if I suggested something like that, she’d have a mini meltdown about what’s appropriate. Yeah, I can see how that shit would be a nightmare for Katy to navigate if Mom feels the need to turn her into a mini-me.
“I called Dad and told him I was on my way. He said he’d be here.” I kiss her on the cheek before walking over and kissing Dora on the cheek, too. “Hey, Dora.”
She smiles at me, tapping my jaw lightly. “It is good to see you, Jake. It has been too long.”
“Dora, I’d like lunch served in the sunroom.” My mother strolls off as I turn sharply to look at her.
