“He… We didn’t have much time before you burst in. Maybe only seconds. But he said how sorry he is for what he did, and that…he missed me terribly.”
Some of the starch went out of Julian’s backbone, but still… “He didn’t have a weapon?”
“No. At least not that I could see. And he was…so sincere.”
Petula wrapped her arms around her waist and rocked as she continued.
“It didn’t seem like he was here to hurt me. I may be wrong, but?—”
“He killed our parents, Petti,” Statler interjected. “I don’t care how he appeared to you; he can’t be trusted. What if Julian hadn’t come in? What if Jefferson had managed to grab you and take you away?”
“I…” Petula deflated and shook her head, looking close to tears. “Listen. Can we save this discussion for later? I just want to go home.”
She’d been through so much in the last twenty-four hours, clearly she’d reached the end of her rope.
Statler gave in, but not happily. “Fine. But our brother has a target on his back, now. He’s not getting away with this.”
He hung up.
Julian walked over and put his arm around Petula’s shoulders, but before he could ease her into giving him any additional details about anything she might have forgotten to tell him, his brothers stormed in.
“You said ‘red al—‘,” Spencer’s voice halted when he saw the broken window. “What the hell happened?”
Julian was about to fill him in when the door opened again.
It was Petula’s doctor, adding one more body to the mix.
As if the room didn’t already seem small enough.
The doc looked around at all the large men, then at the shattered glass. To give him props, he shuffled forward, albeit nervously, and handed Petula her paperwork.
“I’m, uh, sure there’s a good explanation for this?” he squeaked, clearly uneasy that trouble might still be in attendance.
Julian took charge. “Petula’s brother who recently got out of prison,” he told everyone grimly, “decided to pay her a visit.”
“Oh, shit,” Trask swore.
Julian nodded. “My sentiments, exactly.”
CHAPTER 22
Petula sat,shivering. Not from the cold this time, but from shock.
She’d just seen her brother Jefferson for the first time in almost twenty-six years.
And he looked exactly like Statler.
That had made her want to reach out to him; enfold him in a hug she hadn’t been able to give to him for a very long time. Her arms had actually ached with the need.
He’d looked so…happy to see her. His crooked smile was exactly how she remembered it.
Her brain immediately headed down a rabbit hole. She couldn’t help but recall the last time she’d interacted with him in their family home…before her entire world had come crashing down.
Something wasn’t right with Jefferson.
He hadn’t been…himself for a long time.
Even at six years old, Petula knew her brother wasn’t okay, but today was something new. He always walked her to the bus stop in the morning, whether he felt ill or not, but he’d come into her room to sit on her bed while she filled her small backpack, telling her he was too sick to go to school.
