Chapter 28
28
DEAN
P ortia was sound asleep beside me, her chest rising and falling in a slow, steady rhythm. The crickets outside her open window sang their endless summer song. A gentle breeze drifted across my bare back from the open window cooling the sweat from our earlier passion. I turned my head to watch her, tracing the curve of her cheek with my gaze.
She had fallen asleep almost immediately after I finished. That made me smile. I fucked her so hard she practically passed out. That was an ego boost. I’d been with a few women that faked their way through sex. There was no faking there. That had been the hottest, wettest, most responsive woman I’d ever been with.
She was beautiful. Always was. But asleep? She was an angel. Soft lips slightly parted, dark lashes resting against her skin, her hair fanned out over the pillow. My fingers itched to touch her. It was so hard to be this close and not touch her. She’d rocked my world, and I was already craving more. I reached out and brushed my thumb along her cheekbone.
What the hell am I doing here?
The thought hit me like a punch to the gut. Every time I let myself get close to her, my heart screamed at me to run. Danger. Pain. Caring about someone gave them permission to hurt you. And I’d spent years making sure no one had that power over me. I’d spent most of my life making sure no one could get close enough to cause me pain. Not the physical kind. I’d take that all day. I was talking about the kind of pain that tore at your very soul.
Losing my parents had carved something out of me, left me hollow in a way that never quite filled back in. Building my empire had been easy—numbers, deals, strategies. People? They were unpredictable. Messy. And most importantly, untrustworthy. I hated the chaos personal relationships wrought. And Portia? She was the messiest of them all.
And yet, she fit.
I hated that.
A sudden flash of blue and red light spilled across the bed, painting Portia’s sleeping face in harsh, unnatural colors. Frowning, I sat up and swung my legs over the side of the bed, padding to the window.
Two police cruisers were parked in front of my house, their lights spinning in dizzying circles. My stomach dropped.
What the hell is this about?
I moved fast, grabbing my discarded clothes from the floor. My hands fumbled with my jeans, and I nearly face-planted when my foot caught in the pant leg.
Portia stirred, blinking up at me with sleep-heavy eyes. “What time is it?” she mumbled, voice thick.
“Just after midnight.”
She propped herself up on one elbow, squinting. “Are you sneaking out?”
“No.” The word came out sharper than I meant it to. I didn’t want her thinking I was the kind of guy who bolted after sex. I jerked my chin toward the window. “Cops are at my house. Something’s wrong.”
Her expression shifted instantly, sleep replaced by alert concern. “I’m coming with you.”
“You don’t have to?—”
“I’m coming.” She was already out of bed, yanking a hoodie over her head. She quickly pulled on a pair of pants while I put on my shoes. I was going to try and tell her to stay here, but it was clear she was going to follow me no matter what I said.
We hurried up to my house. The officers were just turning away from my front door when we reached them.
“Mr. Jackson,” one of them said, recognition flashing in his eyes.
My pulse kicked up. “Yeah. What’s going on?”
“We’re looking for your brother. Do you know where Seth is?”
Seth. My mouth went dry. “No. What’s he done now?”
The cop exchanged a glance with his partner before answering. “He and his friends have warrants for their arrest for the stunt they pulled at the festival. Took some time to get the charges sorted, but he’s being charged with destruction of private property by the boat owner, as well as reckless endangerment of a minor.”
Portia’s fingers slid between mine, squeezing tight.
I swallowed hard. “I haven’t seen him in over a week. He took off after that night.”
“If you hear from him, you need to call us.” The officer handed me a card. “He’s got a warrant out now. It will go a lot better for him if he turns himself in. If he makes us hunt him down, it will go badly.”
I took the card. “Yeah. Sure. If I’ll see him, I’ll let him know.”
“He hasn’t been here?” the other officer asked.
I didn’t appreciate his tone. “No,” I said, my voice tight. “He hasn’t been here. Like I said, he took off after the festival. I don’t even know what state he’s in.”
The officer gave me a long look, his gaze sharp and assessing. “Mind if we take a look around? Just to be sure.”
I stiffened, my jaw clenching. I was automatically inclined to tell him to fuck off. Something ingrained in me from my youth. I had always been taught not to trust the police. But I also knew I had nothing to hide. Assuming Seth hadn’t broken into my house and was currently hiding inside. “You got a warrant?” I asked.
“Not yet,” he replied smoothly. “But if you’ve got nothing to hide, there’s no reason to make this difficult. Save everyone a lot of trouble.”
“And you know harboring a fugitive?—”
“He’s not a fugitive,” Portia quickly chimed in. Her hand tightened in mine again, a silent warning to keep my temper in check. I took a deep breath, forcing myself to stay calm.
“Listen,” I said, keeping my tone even, though it took effort. “Seth’s not here. He doesn’t have a key to the house, and he knows better than to show up after the shit he pulled. I haven’t seen him, and I sure as hell haven’t been hiding him. You want to waste your time looking around? Fine. But don’t come back here acting like I’m obstructing justice because my brother’s an idiot.”
“Dean’s not harboring him,” Portia said. “It’s rude to suggest he is. Dean isn’t the one that did anything wrong. You should back off the accusatory tone.”
I glanced at her, surprised by how effortlessly she’d stepped in. Like she was already in my corner, ready to fight for me even when I hadn’t asked her to. She was fierce.
“He hasn’t answered my calls,” I said. “I’ve been gone all day. I haven’t been home. So if he’s here, I sure as hell didn’t know about it.”
“You don’t have to let them search,” Portia said quietly.
I shook my head. “I don’t care. If he’s here, I don’t want him here. But I’m making it clear I didn’t know shit about shit.”
The cops exchanged a look.
“We’ll be following you,” Portia said firmly. “And you’re not digging through his underwear drawer.”
I almost laughed. I saw the cops do their best not to laugh as well.
“Let’s go,” I said.
I walked up to the back door with Portia still holding my hand. I unlocked the door and stepped inside, flipping on the lights. The house was silent. Portia followed close behind. The officers trailed us, their boots echoing on the hardwood floor as they spread out to check the rooms.
“Kitchen’s clear,” one of them called from the other room.
“Living room too,” the other responded.
I headed toward Seth’s old room—a space I hadn’t set foot in since he’d last crashed here months ago. The door creaked as I pushed it open, but there was no sign of him.
“Not here,” I said, stepping back into the hallway.
The officers finished their search quickly, confirming what I already knew. Seth wasn’t there. But that didn’t mean he wasn’t in trouble somewhere else.
“You hear from him, you let us know,” the first officer said as they headed for the door.
I nodded stiffly, biting back the urge to argue further. The door clicked shut behind them, leaving Portia and me alone in the foyer.
Portia turned to me, her green eyes searching my face. “You okay?”
“Yeah,” I lied, running a hand through my hair. “Just pissed. Seth’s always been reckless, but now he’s dragging me into his bullshit. Although that’s nothing new.”
“Hey.” She stepped in front of me, forcing me to look at her. “Let’s go back to my place.”
This was my chance to come up with a reason for her to go home and me to stay in my own bed. But dammit, the temptation was too strong. I wasn’t interested in sleeping alone tonight.
“Alright.”
I locked the door behind us just in case Seth did show up. I didn’t want his ass in my house.
I let her lead me back to her place, my mind racing. She disappeared into the kitchen, and a minute later, the sound of a kettle whistling cut through the silence.
When she returned, she handed me a mug of tea. “Here. I know it’s not bad ass whiskey, but it is calming. I won’t tell anyone you drank tea.”
I took it. “Thanks.”
I sat on the couch.
She sat beside me, close enough that our knees brushed. “You okay?”
I stared into the mug. “I don’t know.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I let out a sharp breath. “What’s there to say? My brother’s an idiot. Always has been.”
“But you love him.”
I clenched my jaw. That was the problem, wasn’t it?
Portia’s hand settled on my leg. “Maybe this is what he needs,” she said softly. “A good lawyer can get him a deal. Community service, probation… it might be the wake-up call he’s been avoiding. He’s always managed to get out of trouble. I have a feeling these guys aren’t messing around this time. He went too far when he put a child at risk. Everyone at the festival, really.”
I knew she was right. I’d bail him out—again—pay for his lawyer—again—but maybe this time, it would stick. Maybe this time, he’d finally learn.
I looked up at her, really looked at her. No pity in her eyes. No judgment. Just quiet understanding.
“I’m glad you were with me tonight,” I said.
The words felt too raw, too exposed. I wasn’t used to admitting I needed anyone. But Portia didn’t call me out on it. She didn’t make it a big deal.
She just smiled softly and squeezed my hand. “Me too.”
“Do you believe me when I told them I don’t know where he is?”
“Yeah, Dean. I believe you.” She said it like it was simple, like there was no other answer. “You’re not the kind of guy who lies about stuff like that. You’d tell the cops to their faces if you were hiding him.”
I let out a breath I didn’t realize I was holding. Her faith in me shouldn’t have mattered as much as it did, but it did. “Thanks,” I muttered. I took a sip of the tea just to have something to do.
She leaned back against the couch, her shoulder brushing mine. “You know, you don’t have to carry everything by yourself. You can lean on people sometimes. It doesn’t make you weak.”
I snorted softly. “Easy for you to say. You’re not the one with a brother who’s always one step away from blowing up his life—and mine along with it.”
“Maybe,” she conceded. “But everyone has something. Or someone. And no one gets through it alone.”
I turned my head to look at her again. There was something about the way she said it—like she wasn’t just talking about me and Seth. Like she was speaking from experience.
I thought about arguing with her and telling her I had been getting through life on my own for almost thirty-five years. My parents didn’t count as anyone to lean on. And Seth sure as hell didn’t. I had me and me alone to lean on.