Chapter 30
The man standing in front of me is a far cry from the version I saw in the pictures growing up, and I’m almost more surprised that I recognize Jack than I am to see him here.
Time has not treated him well.
“You’re a hard person to track down, Luna Starr.” Jack’s voice cuts through the night like a bullet. “You’d think a name like that would make you a little easier to find.”
He forces his thin lips into a smile, but it does nothing to set my nerves at ease.
If anything, it makes them worse.
“Well, usually when a person isn’t easy to find, that means they don’t want to be found,” I say, proud of how steady my voice sounds. “Most people take that as a hint. You should try it.”
“Gotta admit, though, I did laugh when I found out you ended up in a town named Celestial,” he says as if he didn’t hear me at all, but the flush of red blooming across his sallow skin gives him away. “I mean, really, what are the chances?”
Jack takes one step closer and then another, until the space between us disappears.
I knew he wasn’t doing well before, but it’s even more noticeable this close up.
The smells of the rodeo fade beneath the sharp tang of body odor and faint scent of whiskey coming off Jack in waves.
My stomach turns. He’s got at least a hundred pounds and five inches on me, but I know what game he’s trying to play, and I refuse to step back.
“What are you doing here?” I finally ask.
“What do you mean? Can’t an uncle come and visit his favorite niece?”
My temper spikes and quiets my fears.
“Cut the crap, Jack. I made it very clear in my last email that I had nothing to say to you. So I’ll ask you one more time and one more time only.” I pause, not losing eye contact with him once, and say as slowly as I can, “What are you doing here?”
He does not like this.
“You think I cared about your little email?” The mask he was wearing crumbles and rage simmers behind his yellow eyes. “I don’t give a fuck what you said. I care about what’s mine.”
His voice vibrates with the same angry, hysterical lilt I heard from my mom on her very worst nights, and his hands curl into fists at his sides. I should be scared of the way his knuckles are turning white or that his pinpoint pupils are from something much stronger than alcohol.
And I am scared, terrified, actually, but not because of Jack.
Or not totally, at least.
Just over Jack’s shoulder, Aiden, my favorite football player, steps through the arena exit with a group of his friends and then, instead of turning left with them, I watch as he heads straight in my direction.
“Moon Girl!” He calls my name before I can think of a way to subtly caution him away.
I don’t know what Jack’s capable of, but I don’t want Aiden anywhere near when I find out.
“Did you see Coach T on that horse? I didn’t even know he could do that!
Did he—” He stops talking the second he comes from behind Jack, and the smile I’ve never seen leave his face is replaced by an expression I don’t like at all. “Are you okay, Miss Starr?”
It’s the first time he’s ever called me by my real name.
“I’m okay,” I say, but it’s hard to talk over the lump in my throat. “Why don’t you go catch up with your friends?”
He doesn’t listen.
“My man,” he says to Jack. “Why don’t you go ahead and take a step back? You’re a little too close and she doesn’t look like she likes it much.”
Yeah.
Definitely my favorite football player.
“It’s okay, Aiden—” I start before Jack cuts me off.
“Do I look like someone who listens to kids like you?” Jack snaps. “This has nothing to do with you.”
Jack might weigh more than Aiden, but Aiden has two inches on him, and the weight he does carry is muscle. Jack might be trying to act tough, but I can see straight through the bravado in his voice. He’s scared and he’s getting more agitated by the second.
And that makes him even more dangerous.
I need Aiden to get away from here and fast.
“Aiden, I’m okay, really. This is my uncle.
” I step in between him and Jack and try to force him to listen, but Aiden’s eyes never stop looking over the top of my head.
“I’ll be alright, but I really need you to leave.
” Any grip I had on my composure has disappeared, and my mouth goes dry with panic.
“Now, Aiden,” I say, my voice breaking from the barely concealed panic turning my blood cold. “Leave now.”
His eyes finally come down to mine, and I watch the moment understanding passes over his face. He doesn’t say a word, but he does what I asked and turns to leave. I almost fall to the ground as relief shoots through my legs like needles.
Too close. That was much too close.
The announcer’s voice has been muffled inside the arena, but all of a sudden it’s much too loud and his words informing the crowd that the rodeo is coming to an end come through crystal clear.
“Why don’t we take this somewhere else?” I suggest to my uncle, ignoring the warnings from every self-defense class I’ve ever taken not to go to a second location with your attacker.
But at this point I’ll take whatever he has coming as long as there’s no collateral damage.
“We can go someplace quiet and figure this out.”
I don’t know what there is to figure out—he was left out of the will and I wasn’t—but desperation is one hell of a motivator, and if writing a check is what it will take to get him away, then that’s what I’ll do.
“No.” He shakes his head. “I’ve waited long enough. I want to talk now.”
A slow trickle of people leaving the rodeo starts to flow through the exit, and no matter how hard I’m trying to keep it together, panic is rising inside of me like a tide. The subtle tremor in my hands is spreading up my arms and the sharp pang in my chest makes it hard to breathe.
“Okay. That’s okay.” I try to think of another plan, hoping my smile doesn’t look as unhinged as it feels as people begin to walk by. “I think there might be some tables around here somewhere. Would that work?”
“That’s fine.” There’s a glint in his eyes when he nods. He felt the shift. For the first time, he knows he has the upper hand.
It doesn’t last long.
I scan an open corridor for a table or a quiet corner where we can hide, but I find Tate with Aiden at his side instead. I don’t know if I’m relieved to see him or not, and I don’t have time to figure it out, because the second we lock eyes, he’s on the move.
His long legs make quick work of the distance separating us. His face is thunder, but the storm brewing in his dark eyes is deadly.
“Are you okay?” he asks as soon as he reaches me, but his onyx eyes never deviate from my uncle.
No. Not even a little bit. I’ve never been worse.
“I’m fine.” I try to keep my voice even when all I want to do is scream and, if I’m lucky, finally cry. “This is my uncle, Jack Brady.”
Uncle Jack eyes Tate up and down and makes it clear he’s not impressed with what he sees. “Who are you?”
Tate’s shoulders tense at the distaste in Jack’s voice, but he remains silent.
“This is my boyfriend.” I don’t give him a name. He doesn’t deserve to know it.
“He shouldn’t be here.” Jack runs a hand through his thinning gray hair and peels his gaze from Tate back to me. “This is a family matter.”
“A family matter?” I repeat, making sure I heard him right the first time.
“Yeah,” he snaps. “Family. You know, like me and you. Not this asshole I’ve never seen before.”
Jack crosses his weak arms across his puffed-out chest. I know he’s balancing on the edge of lunacy and I need to take him seriously, but for some reason, him trying to look intimidating is the only thing funnier than him pretending like he’s ever acted like we’re family before this moment. And I can’t help it.
I start to laugh.
Not just a small, cute little giggle that I can pretend is a cough either.
No.
It’s the from the tips of your toes to the top of your head, doubled over, can’t breathe, and will feel it in the morning kind of laughter. And every time I think I’ve gotten it under control, I take one look at the deep frown lines on Jack’s cherry-red face and I start all over again.
“You think this is funny?” he asks, and I can’t tell if it’s the first time he’s asked or the tenth.
“Do I find you ambushing me at a rodeo and demanding that I talk to you funny? No, not really,” I manage to say without falling into another fit of giggles.
“But you saying something is a family matter to me, the person who you ignored my entire life and then called a selfish bitch when I called to tell you your sister died? Well, that’s pretty hilarious. ”
Out of the corner of my eye, I notice that the trickle of people leaving the rodeo turned into a steady stream sometime while I was laughing, but I’m too focused on the way Tate has turned to stone beside me to give them much attention.
If the vibes were bad before, they’re straight-up rancid now.
Tate doesn’t say a word, but he doesn’t need to.
He’s as still as a statue at my side, his taut muscles wound so tight that the slightest breeze could set him off.
It’s just that, in this case, the breeze has a name. Jack Brady.
Who, by the way, is still fucking talking.
“You’re still going on about that? Get over it already.” Jack’s face turns as red as the flag he personifies. “I hadn’t talked to her in years. I don’t know what you expected from me.”
“Oh, I don’t know.” I pretend to think about it while I gather what’s left of my self-control.
“Your only niece calls to tell you that your only sister has died and that even if you’ve never spoken before, you’re the only family she has left now.
I didn’t expect tears, but some human decency or a little compassion would’ve been nice.
I would’ve even been fine with a ‘bummer.’ Anything other than what you did actually. ”