“Why don’t you go take care of Simon instead?” Evie asked. Simon lowered his head, ashamed that she even had to ask. “I think he’s still pretty shook up after what happened, although he’s holding it together pretty well. Can you get him settled?”
Jayne’s expression softened. His eyes lingered on Simon, then flicked to Parker. He took his son back from Simon’s arms. “I know your room is a no-fly zone right now, so why don’t we go back to mine?”
“I’m okay,” Simon lied, but Harlow had been right—he was a terrible liar.
Jayne shook his head. “Not buying it. C’mon, let’s go. Evie, are you okay? You must be pretty traumatized. If you want, you can be an honorary Biernacki brother and join us for some brother time. You don’t mind, Simon, do you?”
“No,” Simon said. This time, he didn’t lie.
“I’m fine,” Evie replied. “I’m angry as hell and I feel disgusted that Justin would do something like that to someone close to me, but I’ll live. You guys have a good, relaxing time, okay? I’ll be in the living room, keeping an ear on the front door in case insanity round two starts up.”
“Good deal.” Jayne flashed her a smile, then made his way behind Simon so he could plant a hand on his back. With a push of his palm, he steered him away. “If anything happens, let us know. You can do it by coming to get us, or, depending on the severity of the situation, by shrieking—I feel it’s more than acceptable in this situation.”
“They say I have the best ear-splitting shriek in Hollywood. I won’t let you down,” Evie reassured him.
Simon laughed. At least, he tried to. What started as a wheezy chuckle devolved into a choked sob. The world didn’t feel real. Evie and Jayne were talking, joking, acting like everything was fine, but minutes ago, Simon’s life had almost ended. If it hadn’t been for luck, he would have plummeted to his death, and for what?
Life offered no answers and made no promises. Every moment spent alive was a gift. Three years ago, when faced with similar unpredictability and peril, his parents hadn’t survived. There was no security, no way to guarantee that each new breath he took wouldn’t be his last. But men like Harlow, brave men who risked it all without a second thought, defied death daily. They fought, served, and protected. They stepped in when times got tough. What separated him from Simon? Was it courage? Simon couldn’t tell.
All he knew was that he’d survived when he should have died. He’d beat the odds, even when they were stacked against him. He lived to take his next breath.
What he did with the time he had left was up to him, but Simon knew he wouldn’t take whatever he decided to do for granted. Life was precious. No matter how trapped he felt, and no matter what sacrifices he made, he wouldn’t go back to the way he’d been before. No matter how far his sunshine strayed, he’d work toward its light.
* * *
“I can’t sayI understand what’s happening.” Jayne overextended his legs, then slowly tented them. He sat perpendicular to the bed, his back against the wall. “But I can say that everything that’s happening… I’m sorry. It shouldn’t be happening to you. You don’t deserve any of this.”
“It’s not your fault.” Simon had crumpled into a ball at the head of the bed, taking full advantage of Jayne’s pillows. After a week of sleeping on an air mattress, his bones were ready for a bed. “I don’t really understand what’s going on, either. I don’t get why someone I’ve never met would want to… to hurt me like that.”
“Some people are just dicks,” Jayne said with a shrug. “But that wasn’t what I was talking about. I mean, whatever’s going on between you and Harlow. Just yesterday you were going at it like bunnies, and then today he’s leaving. Is everything okay?”
A twinge of sorrow soured Simon’s stomach. He picked at a thin patch of denim across the knee of his jeans. “I… I mean, nothing happened. We didn’t… didn’t break up or anything.”
“But you’re not staying together, either,” Jayne observed.
“No.” Simon frowned. “Evie wants to go back home—she wants to go back to acting. Wherever she goes, Harlow goes, too. He spent all morning getting in touch with people. I don’t really know. All of that is a mystery to me, but apparently, things are fine and he’s just… he’s going back home.”
“So he’s going back to Los Angeles, leaving here…” Jayne took his phone from his pocket and stifled a yawn. With a few taps, he unlocked the screen and began to casually browse as they spoke. “How do you feel about that?”
“Miserable.” Often, words failed Simon when he needed them the most, but alone with his brother, he found his tongue. “I don’t want him to go. He invited me to follow him to LA, but I couldn’t take him up on it. How could I leave you to take care of everything at home? Shep may be sixteen, but Parker is still small—he needs someone to look after him. I don’t want you to feel like you’re trapped here. We fought so hard to stick together… I can’t leave you now.”
“So you’re going to trap yourself here instead?” Jayne had started typing, his fingers flying furiously across the screen of his phone. “How is that fair? Parker is my son, and that means he’s my responsibility. I made choices that led to his creation, you know, and I chose to give birth to him. You shouldn’t have to suffer for that.”
Simon unfurled and rolled onto his back. He draped his legs over Jayne’s lap. “I don’t have to… but that’s what family does, right? They stick together. I’ve been working with Harlow for years, but we only met this week. If I just… just, you know, rode off into the sunset with him, where would that leave you and Shep and Parker? You wouldn’t be happy. I can’t do that. I’d feel too guilty.”
“Mm.” Jayne kept typing, his eyes on the screen. While it didn’t look like he was paying much attention, Simon had the feeling that Jayne was mulling over their conversation. “Do you love him?”
The typing stopped. Jayne kept his eyes on the screen.
“What?” Simon asked, regretting how weak his voice sounded.
“Harley—I mean,Harlow,” Jayne clarified. “Do you love him?”
Simon said nothing for a while. He kept his eyes on the ceiling as heat spread across his cheeks. At last, he said, “Yeah. I do.”
Jayne tapped the screen of his phone, then started typing again. The sudden shift from inaction to action alerted Simon that something was going on. He lifted his head to look at his brother. “Were you recording me?”
“I don’t know. This isn’t a two-party state, right?”
“What?” Simon scowled. “Jayne!”
Jayne arched a brow. He kept typing. Whatever he was doing, he was up to no good. “No raising your voice, little brother. My room, my rules. Besides, you’ll upset Parker. Isn’t that the last thing you want to do?”
