Chapter 39
CHAPTER THIRTY-NINE
Bravo and Echo were there. They hadn’t even known Angelo, but they’d come. They’d shown up at the funeral, and now they were at the reception.
Jessica hadn’t said a word to him since she’d appeared in her black dress and heels. Her eyes would meet his for a fleeting moment over the past few hours and then drift away.
That was on him, though.
He’d been avoiding her all week.
But right now, he could feel her eyes on his back as he sucked down a drink, nodding at something a buddy was saying to him, even though he was in a total daze.
He’d considered going to some of the old haunts this past week, but he couldn’t bring himself to walk down memory fucking lane to remember the days before he’d left for the Navy.
“You’ve been fighting again?” Sarah’s arm was still in a sling, and it had his jaw clenching at the sight.
His friend parted ways with him now, and Asher lowered his tumbler from his lips and cocked his head, giving his sister his full attention. “What gave you that idea?”
She reached for his cheek with her good arm, and her fingers lightly feathered over his bruises. “The fight club’s been closed down; so, where have you been going?”
Once she dropped her hand to her side, he finished his drink. He couldn’t bring himself to say anything. His thoughts were still cloudy.
“Angelo changed, Asher. I know you didn’t believe him.” Her lashes swept down as she gathered a breath.
“I know.”
She peered back at him. “Dad said you visited. That meant a lot to him.”
He’d learned his mom still visited his old man, but was his sister really in contact with him as well?
“Yeah, we, uh, talk.” She finished her wine and rolled her lips inward before finally speaking. “After college, we reconnected. I decided to visit him on a whim, and then it turned into a regular monthly thing.”
“Monthly?” His hand snaked up to the back of his neck, and he squeezed as tension shot through him. “Why?”
“Bill’s great and all, but Dad’s Dad. You know?”
“No, I don’t know. He’s a murd—” He cut himself off, realizing the hypocrisy of his choice of words. Wasn’t he technically a killer, too? Shit. “And Mom visits, too, huh?”
She glanced toward their mother; she was talking to Angelo’s sister, who’d come down from Boston for the funeral. “She visits once or twice a year. Always has.”
He looked down at the floor, his mind racing. “Does Bill know?”
“Of course.” She reached for his arm, and he looked into his sister’s big brown eyes. “Dad may have killed someone, but he promises it was an accident, and I’m choosing to believe him.”
Her words had him stepping back and out of her reach.
More forgiveness. It was going around, apparently.
“But let’s not think about that right now. Today is about Angelo.” Her eyes began to well. “And you were right about one thing in regard to him. You warned me. You said he’d hurt me.” Her voice cracked. “Falling in love is painful, and so, I guess if you never do it, you can’t get hurt.”
“That’s not what I meant, but—”
“I’m done, you know? Everyone I ever care about leaves. Dad. You. Greg.” A tear rolled down her cheek. “Now, Angelo.”
“Don’t talk like that.” He set his glass down on the bar top table near him.
What was he supposed to say right now? Something insightful? Hopeful? He was too messed up to think straight himself, let alone offer words of wisdom.
“I’m so sorry,” he managed and pulled her in for a hug. He held her tight against him as she cried, but his eyes landed on Jessica’s as she now stood with his mom, ten feet away.
The beats of his heart seemed to slow as he observed her, everything inside of him tensing as he eyed the woman he loved.
His sister was right. Falling in love was hard. And it did hurt.
But he also didn’t know if he could handle the alternative—a life without it.
A few minutes later, he pulled away from his sister and found Sarah’s eyes. “I’m going to be a better brother. I promise.”
She forced a smile to her lips, but before she could respond, a friend placed a hand on her shoulder and pulled her in for a hug.
Asher strode across the room to Jessica.
“Can we talk?” he asked her.
“Um.” She blinked. “Yeah.” She looked at his mom. “Excuse me.”
He grabbed her coat by the door and offered it to her before they stepped out onto the street.
“Are you okay?” She tightened the belt of her coat and observed him.
“I will be.” He brushed his hands down his face. “But I need to get away, to take some time to process everything that’s happened.”
Her breath floated into the cool air. “Okay.” But there was hesitation in her eyes.
Without thinking, he closed the small gap between them and took hold of her face between his palms the way she had back at the office last week when she talked him off the ledge.
She stared at him with parted lips.
And then he brought his mouth to hers.
He kissed her hard, his lips burning from the touch.
When their mouths broke, she whispered, “Go.” She lightly nodded. “But come back to me, okay?”