“We’re still not even, bud.” Jake gave him a steady look, now standing beside the car. “But if it counts any, I think she’s the right woman for you.”
“We’re even.” Ethan lifted a hand, then walked out the door.
He sent a text to his sister before he took off, and a reply was waiting for him when he landed in Brook. When he reached his apartment, he got a cold beer and sat, then dialed the number Hope had given him.
“Brad? It’s me, Ethan.”
“What do you want?”
Not a great start, Ethan thought, but more or less what he’d expected. “Hell if I know, but if you’ll give me a few minutes, I’ll try to explain it.” Ethan waited for the phone to disconnect, but Brad stayed on the line. “I’m sorry I let Dad get at you, sorry that I was never there for you, but what I really want to say is that if you ever need me then you only have to call this number and I’ll come.”
There was a long silence. Ethan held his breath until finally Brad spoke.
“Fuck you, asshole.”
Ethan pocketed his phone after Brad hung up. He’d known that his brother wouldn’t be receptive to anything he had to offer, but he’d had to try, to plant the seed that Brad had a place to run if he needed it. He probably never would, but Ethan had decided that he would send his brother a text once or twice a week, even if he got no reply, just a few words, because now that he’d opened that particular vein, Ethan knew it would never close again.
Looking at his phone, he thought about calling Annabelle, but thought better of it. They both needed time to cool down. He’d never really missed a woman before, but he did her. It was like an ache deep down inside, like a part of him was missing.
“So this is love,” he said, getting to his feet. “Who knew?”
A text message woke him in the early hours of the morning. Hoping it was from Annabelle, Ethan switched on the light. It was from Brad.
Did you mean what you said?
Every word,Ethan texted back.
Brad said nothing more, but it was a start. Closing his eyes, Ethan thought about his girl as he drifted off to sleep.
Annabelle had slept badly the day Ethan had flown out of Howling. She’d heard his helicopter leave, as had her brother, but neither of them said anything. She’d carried guilt over Cooper, but this was worse, because she’d attacked Ethan and he’d only been trying to help her, trying to show her he cared.
What if he never forgave her?
Annabelle wouldn’t think about that, couldn’t think about it. Ethan wouldn’t turn away from her; she had to believe that, even though she deserved him to.
She was avoiding Cooper unless it was to take him his meds or food, because looking at him made her angry over what she had done to Ethan. No, Annabelle thought as she slumped onto a chair. It was her own fault, not her brother’s. She had said the nasty, spiteful words, not Cooper.
The second time she went into Cooper’s room, he’d showered and was sitting in the chair beside the bed, which he’d made. He smiled when she handed him his tray of food, and thanked her politely, so she thanked him back and left. She didn’t think it would last, and it was possibly happening only because Ethan had threatened him, but she’d enjoy the ceasefire for as long as it stood.
When a knock sounded on her front door, Annabelle didn’t want to answer it because she wasn’t fit company for anyone, and the effort of trying to be polite was beyond her at the moment.
“Hey, you.” Annabelle tried to smile when she saw Macy Reynolds on her doorstep, but was sure it fell short. “And you,” she said, bending down to tickle the chin of Billy, who gave her a gummy smile.
Like Annabelle, Macy had lived in Howling her entire life. She’d been born rich, was homecoming queen and married a man everyone believed treated her like a princess. She’d always appeared to believe herself better than everyone else. However, the reality was that her husband been abusing her for years and no one knew. Annabelle still felt a tug of guilt when she thought about how Macy had suffered and how she and Branna had treated her before they knew what she was hiding.
“Is Billy teething, Macy?”
“Yes,” she sighed, pushing a mousy blonde curl back from her cheek. It had once been platinum blonde hair.
“It’s so good to see you, Macy, and my baby boy, there,” Annabelle said, bending to blow a raspberry on his cheek. “But you may want to rethink this visit, because Cooper’s home and—”
“I know about the heroin and why he’s back, Annabelle, so relax and make me some coffee,” Macy said, and then maneuvered the stroller inside the house and lifted Billy out and onto her hip.
Annabelle had noticed that you needed to carry a lot of stuff when you had a baby. The huge bag slung over the handle told her Macy had brought along all the necessities that Billy might or might not require.
“Are you sure? I mean, Cooper’s not in a bad mood today, but he can be pretty mean sometimes, Macy, and I don’t want you and Billy getting a mouthful from him,” Annabelle said.
Her friend smiled. It was gentle, nothing like the brittle ones she used to deliver. This one was genuine and soft, as was the hand she brushed down Annabelle’s cheek. “You bring us all some coffee, Belle, while I introduce Billy to Cooper.”
