Chapter Twenty-One
Gus’s woke up in a shit mood, and it didn’t improve. He’d left his place well before the sun was up and put in a full day’s work by mid-morning.
“You look like someone crapped in your cornflakes.”
He scowled and chugged some water before sending a withering look to Walker.
“You gonna spill, or do I have to guess?” They’d just finished the porch on number five, and Walker leaned against the railing.
Gus took a beat, then sighed. “I’m leaving now. Headed to DC.”
“Yeah?” Walker didn’t look all that surprised.
“Not sure how long I’ll be.”
“We’ve got things covered here, Chief. No need to worry.” Walker scratched at the stubble on his chin. “You need to talk anything through before you go?”
“I’m good.” Gus tossed his water bottle in the trash bucket. “I don’t expect to be gone long.”
“We’ve got maybe a week and this job is done.”
He nodded. “Sounds about right.”
“That enough time for you to square things up?”
Gus slowly nodded. “Yeah. It should be.”
“Good. Because your sister has been riding my ass for the last two days and I’m this close to tossing her butt into the lake.”
“Ignore Iris.”
“It’s not Iris I’m talking about.” Walker frowned. “Speaking of Iris, does she know you’re headed back to DC?”
“I told her I’d go in a couple of days, but this can’t wait any longer.” He backed away. “I’ll check in with Dozer when I’m back.”
“I’ll keep things going on this end.”
Gus stopped by Lawson House to grab a shower and was more disappointed than he’d expected to be when he realized that Faith wasn’t home. He felt as if things were left badly between them and left a note under her door before heading back downstairs. It was short and to the point.
Hey,
Sorry if I was an asshole last night.
Mary had sent the company jet to bring him back to DC, and four hours later, he was sitting on butter-soft leather, staring at the manilla envelope Dozer had prepared weeks earlier. After accepting a drink from the stewardess, Jenny, he opened it up and began to read.
It was a comprehensive report on his siblings.
Most of the stuff about Ford he knew. His brother had married his college sweetheart, and they’d had a son.
They were well suited. Ford ran the family businesses while his wife was a lawyer specializing in family law.
They were happy and, Gus swore, expecting their second child when a drunk driver crossed the median and hit her car head-on, forcing her back across the road into the path of an eighteen-wheeler.
She was killed on impact. Ford had attended a therapist for a few months with his son.
Took part in all the boy’s activities and, so far, had remained single.
Sunday’s report surprised him.
She graduated with a Bachelor of Fine Arts from New York University and had danced and sang on Broadway.
She was slated to play Maggie in a revival of Cat on a Hot Tin Roof but had abruptly withdrawn from her role.
Gus frowned as he continued to read. There’d been a stay at a psychiatric hospital.
She’d never married and had no children, though there was a notation about a possible adoption during what seemed to be a chaotic time in her life.
She now resided at the family home in Fire Lake.
He hadn’t asked Dozer to dig deep on his father because a part of him didn’t want to know. That part still held a lot of anger toward the man. But now he wished he had. Maybe then he would have been prepared for Misha’s revelations.
He sighed and tucked the papers back into the envelope.
Then, closed his eyes. He was dead tired and knew he’d need to recharge before seeing his mother.
But with a mind full of new information, sleep wouldn’t come.
He found himself wondering about Faith and her day.
Found himself remembering the look on her face when he was inside her.
The feel of her. The sound of her laughter. The smell of her skin.
His heart took off, and he sat up, trying his best to shake off the feeling.
“Can I get you anything?” Jenny smiled down at him.
“I’m here to please.” She was tall, blonde, and stacked.
The kind of woman who was used to attention.
The kind of woman who, in the past, he would have tapped with zero guilt.
Maybe it’s what he needed. A quick fuck to make him forget about the woman he’d left behind.
He sat a little straighter. His company owned the jet, and sometimes, when not on company business, they booked outside their group. He was on a shared flight with another businessman who was clearly asleep.
“Anything at all,” she said softly, her eyes on his crotch. Her meaning obvious.
Gus could have this woman naked in less time than it took for her to grab him a drink, and yet . . . he didn’t want her.
What in the actual fuck?
Was he just tired? Was there too much on his mind? Or was it the woman he’d been inside the night before. The woman he couldn’t stop thinking about.
“Shit,” he muttered.
“What’s that?”
He looked up at Jenny and shook his head. “I’ll take another whiskey. Neat.”
Disappointment flashed across her face, but she shed it as quickly as it had come. “Coming right up.”
Gus finished the drink just as they began their approach to Ronald Regan airport. He’d arranged for his car service to pick him up, and by six o’clock, he was standing in the foyer of the luxurious condo building he called home.
“Mr. Boone.”
Gus shook the doorman’s hand. Gerry, a veteran, was on the back end of seventy and was beloved by everyone in the building. A tall, thin man with slick white hair and an impressive handlebar mustache, he was always smiling.
“I was wondering when you’d be back.”
“Not sure how long I’m staying but it will be at least for the night.” He hiked up his backpack. “Is my mom here?”
“She stepped out about an hour ago.”
Gus wasn’t sure if he was relieved or not. If she was out, it meant pushing back the inevitable.
“Good to know.” He gave a small wave and headed for the second elevator, the one that rode all the way to the top. There were two penthouses in this building. As far as he knew, the other unit was unoccupied. The owners never seemed to be around. He exited the lift and turned to the left.
He let himself inside, took two steps, and felt exactly nothing.
The space was a cool two thousand square feet of gleaming hardwood floors and granite countertops.
The kitchen sported the latest appliances, including a fridge that had cost more than his first car, and the furniture, while comfortable, was ultra-modern, which in turn fit the general vibe of the place.
With its floor-to-ceiling windows and an impressive view of the city, it was, by anyone’s standards, top-tier.
Filled with expensive art he had no attachment to, the place served a purpose.
Aside from a generous master bedroom, he had a guest bedroom, an office as well as a gym.
It was his home, but there was nothing homey about it. He had nothing personal except a few items he kept in his office. Photos of his SEAL team and family. That sort of thing.
Most folks would think he was crazy, but as Gus looked around the penthouse, he couldn’t help but feel that he preferred the small apartment in Fire Lake.
Gus grabbed his cell phone and sent his mother a text. It was short and to the point.
I’m home.
Then he tossed the contents of his backpack into the washing machine and grabbed a cold beer from the fridge.
It was surprisingly well-stocked. He nursed the beer while wading through hundreds of emails he’d neglected in the last week or so and was about to open a file from a client when he heard his mother.
Gus cleared his head and got to his feet. There was no sense in putting any of it off. He walked into the main room and found her in the kitchen, putting away a doggie bag she’d brought home.
She turned, and he saw the worry. The anxiety.
“Hey, Ma,” he said gruffly, moving forward to envelop her in a hug.
“My boy,” she replied, kissing his cheek before taking a step back. Her eyes moved over him. “You’ve been spending a lot of time outdoors.”
Like always, Clarice Boone didn’t miss a thing. He saw the questions in her eyes and pointed toward the living room. “Let’s sit.”
She followed him over and took the chair opposite him. It wasn’t often he found his mother nervous, but at the moment, she was jumpy.
“Tell me what the hell is going on, August.”
“For the past few months, I’ve been in Fire Lake.”
Her eyes widened. Her mouth opened. And all the color drained from her face. She got to her feet. Wrapped her arms around her body and began to pace. For the longest time, there were no words, and all he could do was watch her process a simple sentence that changed everything.
After a while, she sat back down and folded her hands together in her lap.
“You have questions.”
He nodded.
A sad smile fell across her face but was gone as quickly as it had come. “I’ve been dreading this day for so long that I forgot all about it. Stupidly, I thought that maybe it would never happen. That I could go on living in this bubble I created all those years ago and we’d all be fine.”
“We’re not fine, Mom.” He saw that now. Clearly. All of them were missing pieces of themselves.
She licked her bottom lip nervously and met his gaze. “How is he?”
“Sick.” He saw the surprise.
“Cancer?” she asked.
Gus nodded. “Yeah.”
“What did he say to you the first time he saw you?”
“He doesn’t know who I am. I was a kid when we left.”
She frowned at that. “You’re telling me that you saw Porter and he had no idea you are a Boone.”
The hole inside Gus expanded a bit more. He tried to clamp down on his anger, but it was hard to do, and when he spoke, his words sounded harsh.
“Why would you say Boone and not son?”