Statler wasn’t finished. “Did he also tell you that Petula has deep, emotional scars from losing our parents so young at the hands of a brother she loved? Did he happen to fill you in on the abuse she suffered during her years with our adoptive family?” He practically spit out the last.
Julian softened his voice. “The phycological trauma was easy to figure out on my own, once I heard about your parents. The abuse, however? There were no details. Just that once you were in the military, you repeatedly called in reports to DES, none of which social services could or would substantiate.”
Statler practically snarled. “They were shit at their jobs, that’s why.”
Julian didn’t argue.
“But I stood by Petula, and I still do,” Statler growled. “I believe everything she told me, and if you dug any deeper, you’d see that her story was eventually substantiated.”
“I haven’t received anything more on that. Yet,” Julian allowed. “But just from knowing Petula for the short time I have, I believe that anything she told you was the truth.”
Statler took another sip, then drew in some deep breaths to calm himself.
“Yeah. Well. That’s water under the bridge, now. Petti has a safe environment here, and she’s been working though things with a therapist.”
“That’s good,” Julian responded with a wry grin. “Although I’m not sure you should have told me about the therapist. That’s something I should have learned from her.” His face darkened. “That, along with the things she suffered. Don’t fill me in on any of it. I want Petula to eventually trust me enough to tell me.”
Statler finally let his guard down. “Good response. Because if you’d probed any further, I would have pegged you for an asshole. And I think I’m actually beginning to like you.”
Julian felt like he’d just leapt over a huge hurdle, but Statler wasn’t finished.
“Now tell me why else you’re here. You mentioned having important intel.”
“Yeah, and believe me, I’m hoping you’re already aware of it. Because if you’re not, it could rock your foundations.”
“Nothing much shocks me anymore,” Statler told him. “Try me.”
Julian pulled on his draft, letting the cold liquid slide down his throat, hoping to soothe the words that were about to come out of his mouth.
“Did you know that your brother Jefferson has been out of jail for eight months? And that his parole officer lost track of him five weeks ago?”
Statler swore, the bottle he was holding dropped from his fingers and hit the hardwood floor with a thud.
Beer spewed everywhere.
CHAPTER 12
“Fuck. I wasnotexpecting that,”Statler swore, moving fast to retrieve a towel from the kitchen. Retuning, he squatted to mop up the beer, mumbling under his breath. “I need to call my guys.”
Julian understood that impulse. When shit hit the fan, he always wanted a team by his side. Now that he was a civilian? His brothers had his back.
“Do it. I think we need to figure out some safeguards if shit goes sideways,” Julian concurred.
Statler tossed the soggy towel aside, pulled the phone from his pocket and hit one button before his device, too, got launched onto his chair.
He paced.
What…?
“Uh, Statler?” Julian attempted. “Aren’t you going to call your crew?”
Statler looked up and blinked. He’d clearly been spiraling, deep into his own head. “Oh. I did. We have an emergency alert. They’ll all be here within ten minutes.”
Handy.
“You need to show me how to do that,” Julian said. “I like the idea of having all my brothers on a one-button summons.”
Statler nodded, but Julian could see he was distracted once again, and those lessons would have to wait.
