Near the drop off location sirens had sounded behind them. Sean remembered it like it was yesterday.
Blue and red lights in his rearview. Sweat trickling down his neck. Heart pounding. The image of his mom, lying in bed at home, zoning in and out of consciousness. His brother yelling in his ear.
When Sean turned into an alley, Jordan had shoved Sean out of the still moving car, jumped into the driver’s seat, and driven off in a screech of tires. He’d never forget the sound. Could still smell the burn of rubber. Taste the gas fumes. Felt the ache in his shoulder where he’d landed on the concrete behind a dumpster.
The police caught up with Jordan in the next alley. When Sean had caught up, he’d stood in the shadows, watching like a coward as the police officers pinned his brother to the ground.
He’d watched, stunned, as they read Jordan his rights, then shoved him into their vehicle. He’d abandoned his brother to the wolves. Betrayed him by not moving a single inch.
Long after the police had taken Jordan away, he’d stood in that shadowed alley, his body shaking and cold. His stomach clenched so painfully, he’d vomited beside a dumpster. Knowing that his whole life had changed. And not just his, but Jordan’s as well.
He’d thought about running to the station and turning himself in. But the image of his mother, dying in her bed, plagued him. And he’d made the fucking choice to let his brother go. Alone.
He’d been a coward that night and every night after.
Eventually, he’d gone home, burned his clothes in a trash can, and sat beside his mother for the rest of the night. He didn’t tell her what happened. It hadn’t mattered much, anyway. She’d been delirious on pain meds and slept most of the time. She passed away shortly after Jordan’s arrest. He’d remembered feeling a gut-wrenching regret with the simultaneous relief of knowing she died ignorant of the fact that her eldest son was going to prison—for a crime her youngest, her pride and fucking joy, had participated in.
But his lowest point came after his mother’s death. When he’d made the decision that would change the course of everything.
A month after his mom took her last breath on a gasp, he’d climbed off a Greyhound in Portland, with a couple of hundred dollars in his pocket, and a vow to never look back. He worked multiple jobs at gyms and took night courses. With a hell of a lot of hard work mixed with good timing and connections, he’d ended up where he was now. The owner of Thompson Kickboxing and a trainer with a growing reputation for success.
But the thought of his brother sitting in jail—with God-knows-what happening to him while he served time that should have been his—haunted him day and night. Their last day together replayed constantly in his mind, but no matter how many times he spun it in his head, his shame and guilt kept him from figuring out his next step.
Then he met Ivy.
Ivy, who—like him—had come to Portland with nothing but a desire to rebuild. Ivy with her haunted eyes and fierce determination to become a stronger, more resilient version of herself. Ivy, who became his friend, business partner of sorts, and now lover. Ivy, who changed his whole world and made everything in it better. Ivy, who taught him what strength and courage truly was.
Ivy, who deserved a man who could provide her with unrestrained safety and security. And he couldn’t do that, not when his past now stood a few feet from him, reminding him that the thing she needed to be protected from the most was…him.
“Is that what this is about?” Jordan’s question cut through his self-loathing like a red-hot knife. His tone sounded so dumbfounded that Sean’s back went up defensively.
“Yes!” he exploded. “I can’t go back and hand myself over to the police. I can’t give you back the years you lost in prison. I can’t make it right, and I have no idea where we go from here.”
Jordan’s eyes softened, taking some of the hardness from his features. “Sean, when I found out you’d taken that job, I fuckin’ lost it. Jesus himself couldn’t have kept me from coming after you.” He ran his hand over his scalp, a gesture that was so familiar. “And you know what? If that job hadn’t gone to you, it would’ve gone to me. And the night would’ve ended exactly the same way. I thank God that I got you out of a situation you should’ve never been in. But, man, I tell you I would’ve run that deal, regardless. And if I hadn’t been caught that night, I would’ve kept running those drops and my luck would’ve ended, eventually.”
“That night, you came after me—”
Jordan cut him off with a sharp shake of his head. “You had no business in that world. You were the one who was going to make something of himself. Seeing you get in a stolen car full of drugs, I never panicked like that before.”
For the life of him, Sean had no idea what to say. This whole conversation was so surreal.
Jordan crossed to where Sean had hung his punching bag, and gave it a push, catching it on its return. “What I never understood was what you were thinking. You were smart enough for college. You tried to keep peace in the neighborhood. Why would you suddenly do a drug deal?”
“Mom.” He’d have done anything to make her better. But no amount of money, legal or illegally procured, could have saved her.
“She would’ve had my ass if she knew I’d let you get wrapped up in anything I was involved in.”
They both let out a half-hearted chuckle, because, hell, it was true.
Jordan sighed heavily. “It wasn’t your fault.”
It was amazing how five words would change an entire perspective. “I thought you would have never been there that night if it hadn’t been for me.”
“You thought wrong.” Jordan shoved his hands deep into his jean pockets.
“Yeah, well, it doesn’t change the fact that I was planning to do something illegal. Something I would have followed through with if you hadn’t showed. Something I was never held accountable for,” Sean said grimly. “There was no punishment for me. I watched you being taken away, while I walked off a free man.”
Jordan rocked back on his heels, pursing his lips as he weighed the silence. “You sure about that, brother? Because from where I’m standing, I’d say you’ve punished yourself plenty.”
