Chapter 27
TWENTY-SEVEN
WESTON
Just like we knew he would, the guy that I know has to be Amelia’s brother lumbers out of her van, looking like he’s seen a ghost.
Still gaping at what’s behind him, he doesn’t realize Wyatt and I are about to make his day a lot fucking worse.
He bumps right into my chest, and then he reels back, right into Wyatt’s, who’s caging him in.
The shitstain is lanky, but not as tall as either of us.
“Hi,” I say, menace laced through the word.
“The fuck?” he sputters.
“Are you doing here?” I finish his question.
“We were wondering the same thing,” Wyatt says in that terrifying tone of his.
The two of us step closer to him, and he has nowhere to go but for his back to go against the van.
“Who are you?” the guy squeaks out.
“Angel’s new family.”
“I’m her brother now,” Wyatt says with a toothy grin that doesn’t suit him at all .
“Okay, I’m fucking leaving!”
The fuckwit holds his hands in front of his face, cowering.
“Oh, so it’s okay for you to corner someone who’s smaller than you, but not for others to do it to you?” I ask him.
Standing outside this van and waiting to hear a sound that would signal I needed to barge in was the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Harder than leaving her here alone earlier today. Never have I ever had to practice self-restraint like that. Except maybe now, when I want to deck this fucker and possibly take a few of his teeth as a keepsake.
I’m going to have to get Mrs. Dixon, Ernie, and the entire town grapevine a really fucking big thank you basket for tipping us off to her brother’s presence in town, letting us figure out where he was headed.
If that article hadn’t come out today on Amelia that got all their attention, with Randall’s mugshot included in the section on him, they might not have recognized who he was and given us the heads up. Weird how shit works out sometimes.
“It was family business!” he defends, face still screwed up like he thinks we’re going to punch him.
I fucking wish.
The adrenaline coursing through my system needs an outlet, but I know my girl and using violence to defend her honor is the last thing she would want.
“You have no family here,” I tell him.
“And you have no business here,” Wyatt adds on.
“All right, I’m going!”
The sound of tires on dirt makes me turn around, and I see four squad cars roll into the overlook. I didn’t even know we had four squad cars. Lights and sirens off, they came in silently.
“Got an SOS alert,” a deputy I know well, Carlos, says, rounding his car, hand on his weapon.
Amelia steps out of the van, head held high, speaking loudly and clearly for all to hear. “This man has been harassing me, stalking me, and blackmailing me for nearly ten years, and today he entered my domicile and tried to extort me. He also used illegal tactics to do all of it. If you search his electronics, you’ll find proof of federal crimes across multiple state lines. He has a previous record as a felon, and I have reason to suspect he’s under the influence of illegal substances as well.”
Her brother starts crying, actually wailing, as the deputies approach him.
That’s when I notice the front of his pants is changing colors. The army green cotton turns darker green, and the new shade runs down his leg.
“Oh, you’re pissing yourself!” I don’t even mean to say it aloud, the thought voices itself, really.
He covers his face with both hands and cries as the deputies read him his rights, place him in cuffs, and argue with one another about whose car he has to head to the station in.
When I turn back around, I notice the puddle of piss on the ground is dangerously close to my shoes, so I jump back, tapping Wyatt so he does the same.
“We’re gonna need you to give a statement,” Carlos says to Amelia.
“My attorney will be in touch,” she replies, matter of factly.
Why do I think I know exactly who that might be?
That speech she gave them had my sister-in-law’s name all over it. They must’ve prepped for this.
The last of the patrol cars heads out, and Wyatt pats me on the back, heading back to his truck, answering a call from what’s surely Rory on the way.
“You’re unbelievable,” Amelia tells me, facing off with me, arms over her chest.
“It’s nothin’, darlin’.”
I’m still riled up from all that adrenaline, having to hold myself back through that entire encounter, but having her in my arms again, getting to breathe her in and know she’s still here, she’s still mine, will make it better.
“No, you’re fucking unbelievable!” It’s almost a shriek from her, and I shake my head, trying to catch up.
“Hang on, what?”
“How many times do I have to tell you? I don’t need a man to defend me! Did you not hear my story the other night? The last time a man tried to defend me against my will, people died . I don’t want your fucking protection, Weston!” Her voice rises throughout until she’s downright yelling.
I’m damn near just as worked up as she is at this point. “I’m always gonna have your back, Amelia, that’s something you need to get used to if you’re with me. Somebody comes for you, they come for me too.”
Amelia takes several deep breaths, I recognize the signs of her trying to keep herself calm, but she’s failing this time. Her voice cracks when she speaks again. “I had everything under control. I had protection and a plan. I triggered the emergency alarm. I ran him off for good. Me! I didn’t need you and your dumb fucking brother doing my dirty work!”
“You’re telling me you’d rather your piece of shit brother think you’re all alone and that he can keep coming back for you? That you don’t have half our town willing to back you up if you need it?”
Chest heaving, I reach for her, but she pulls back, away from my touch. It stings even worse than it did earlier today, and my jaw tightens. She holds onto one elbow with her other arm, covering her midsection, just out of reach.
“I want to fight my own fucking battles.”
“Your battles are my battles too. That’s what this means, this relationship thing. We’re in this shit together.” My hand bounces between us, but she shakes her head.
The fear, the shock, it must be hitting her at once because she’s crying now, and I have no idea what to do to make it better, but I try explaining myself. “I didn’t step in, I let you handle it yourself. I was just here for backup, so he knew you had others in your corner!”
I move to step closer to her. I want to pull her in my arms, apologize, tell her I know she’s capable of all these things on her own, I didn’t mean to trigger anything by it. I just care about her, I want to be there when she faces shit. To be a team with her.
Doesn’t she know I wouldn’t kill someone? Though, thinking on it a sec, she probably thought she knew her dad pretty well.
And truth be told, if someone crossed a certain line with Amelia, I could do it to protect her. I know I could, judging from the urges that ran through my veins when facing down her brother. But we’re a long way from that point and I kept my shit together, because I know that’s what she would want from me.
But apparently I don’t know what Amelia wants at all.
She pushes me away with both arms, and caught off guard, I stagger back, watching as the side door rolls to a shut, my favorite eyes in the world cut off from view.
I hear footsteps in the van and then it turns on, the engine rolling over and right now I wish I hadn’t fixed that fucking motor so she can’t pull away from me.
But I did, and the independent woman I’m in love with drives out of the lot, leaving my shattered heart behind.
Sitting in my brother’s kitchen, he hands me a glass of bourbon and I down it without registering it hitting my tongue.
“Another,” he says, pouring me a fresh glass, and I do the same.
After the third, he sits down across from me.
“I’m sorry, man,” he says, and he sounds it.
I grunt.
He tries again. “She’ll be back.”
“You can’t know that.”
Wyatt looks around his house, the signs of his wife tucked into every nook, and raises his eyebrows at me pointedly.
“That was different.”
“Love is love, West. Ours was real, and so is yours. Our stories might look different, but we’re both getting our happy endings, man.”
I shake my head. “I can’t believe you just said that.”
He chuckles. “Yeah, you tell anyone, I’ll deny it.”
I let out a pathetic wail. “I want to go after her but I think that’s just gonna make it worse. How did you live through ten years of this?”
He clears his throat. “It was twelve. And she’s not going to be gone that long.”
“How do you know?”
“The girls are on it. Plus, if she’s not back soon you’ll go after her before it gets out of hand. You won’t fuck it up like I did.”
I drop my head in my hands, picturing a future where I’m as miserable of a prick as my brother was for all those years. If I had to be without the love of my life, after knowing what it’s like to have her, I would be an asshole too.
Suddenly, I’m judging him a lot fucking less.
Like he can read my thoughts, or maybe we’re just more similar than either of us have ever cared to admit, he speaks up again. “I know you said you wanted to be me, but you don’t wanna be me, West. You’re so much better than I ever was, brother. You found what you want, and you’re fighting for it. You’re not letting it go.” He clears his throat, but his voice is still thick when he speaks again. “I wish I was more like you, man. Back then and now.”
“Yeah, well, you’re not so bad,” I tell him, lifting my head and sniffing. “And if I lose Amelia, I’ll be back to being the black sheep of the family anyway.”
He flips me off, taking a sip of his bourbon before opening his mouth again. “Not gonna happen, little bro. I should’ve known from the first night she arrived, when you called me for help. You’ve never done that in your life. I should’ve known then this was different. I shouldn’t have expected the worst from you. I know you would never have asked me for help with her, especially not so many times, if it wasn’t for real. Sorry for being a prick about it.”
I shrug, sighing. “Thanks for coming today.”
“What are brothers for? Least I could do.”
He clears his throat again, and pulls something from his back pocket, slapping it down on the carved wooden table between us.
“What’s that?”
“Too lazy to look and find out?”
Grumbling, I swipe it off the table and open it up.
“I don’t understand.”
“Yeah, honestly, I didn’t either. Thank God Rory did. That legal paperwork is confusing as hell.”
He picks now to develop a sense of humor? I stare at him blankly until he explains.
“It’s papers. For a chunk of the land Grandpa left me. The half that should’ve gone to you. So you always have a home in the Heights.”
My eyes burn and I drop the paper so I can pinch the bridge of my nose and stave it off.
“Fuck, Wyatt.”
“The second page has the property lines drawn on it. Our land splits right at the spot we always used to camp at. You know the one.”
I do know the one. Had to go there not all that long ago.
The stinging gets worse, and I tilt my head back to stare at the light and chase it away.
“Fuck you,” I tell him, because this emotional shit isn’t what we do between us.
He sniffs and I realize I’m not the only one this is getting to.
“Thought maybe we could still camp out there sometimes. Maybe with our families, you know, if you and Amelia start one.”
“I’d like that.” It’s all I can manage to get out.
“Though,” he says, drawing in a breath. “I’m not sure you’re gonna have much time off. I hear being partner in a business is kind of a demanding job.”
My jaw hangs open as he pulls another paper from his back pocket.
“That is, if you’ll go fifty-fifty with me. Grady’s Garage. I do have one condition though.”
All this time with my brother seems to be affecting me, because all I can do is grunt in question.
“No more fooling around in the garage.”
I eye him sharply from across the round table.
“Either of us,” he amends.
His gaze swims, lost in memory, as I allow myself to fall into my own. It doesn’t take long for us both to shake our heads.
“Yeah, never mind,” he says, taking another sip of his bourbon. “Stupid idea. Just make sure I don’t find out about it.”
The side of my mouth twitches up.
“You gonna buff out my trunk?”
His head falls down in silent laughter.
“Fine, I’ll buff out your fucking trunk. So whatd’ya say, West?”
What do I say?
I say I have the best family a guy could ask for.
My palm claps into his loudly, and we shake on it.
Now I just need my girl back.