2. Kennedy
Sweaty palms are just the start of the panic attack I’m currently experiencing while standing in the very public and crowded airport. Every second that passes echoes in the heartbeat residing in my throat, making it hard to breathe, let alone think.
As the passengers from their flight all filter down the escalator and into the baggage claim, there is still no sign of Remy. Ten minutes of waiting has my skin starting to crawl, and the next thing I know, I’m beginning to pace while muttering to myself.
The bored-looking old woman next to me chuckles. “Don’t worry, dear.” Her thick Maine accent makes it sound more like deah than the actual word, and her wrinkles remind me of my grandma before she died. “I’m sure whoever you’re waiting for is just taking their time.” She is watching the escalator with sharp eyes. “I’m waiting on my Peter. He’s been visiting our children down in Florida. I’m glad he’s back, though. I’ve missed him dearly.”
“It’s my stupid brother,” I tell her with a shaky smile, thankful that someone is inadvertently helping me through the nerves I just can’t shake. Blowing out a deep breath, I manage to keep talking. “I’m assuming he’s got some of his friends with him. At least, that’s what his text said.”
“Well.” Her smile grows even brighter when an older man with a weathered smile stops at her side and presses a soft kiss to her forehead. He doesn’t say a word as she keeps talking. “I know they’ll be down soon. You have a good day.” With a kiss for the man at her side, she gives me one short wave and they are gone.
Belatedly, I realize I hadn’t even introduced myself. All of that fades when I see a pair of combat boots hit the top of the escalator, closely followed by another and then another. Three pairs in all, and they are painfully slow in their descent. The way the airport is set up, there is a giant half wall that hangs down, obscuring the view, making it so no one can see who is actually coming down the escalator, at least not until they are halfway down. So, there I am, waving like a lunatic, when my brother and his friends step down. Except Remy doesn’t so much as look at me while he goes to get his bag, and I’m even more embarrassed than before.
I wait, rather impatiently, and think about marching over and confronting him about it. I’m just as stubborn as he is. He must have forgotten it is a family trait. If he wants to be a giant pain in the ass and ignore me, he can. Even though I’ll wait him out. I always win, and today will be no different than the many, many times before. While waiting, though, the heartache I’ve felt at his absence when I needed him most just grows larger and larger. Then I remember that the distance between us is all my fault.
In my entire life, I’d never felt as broken as I had when my brother wasn’t there. There were so many times I’d picked up my phone to send him a text… Only to stop in my tracks because his phone was sitting on our kitchen counter when he was in boot camp or after, when he went to training school. I was too embarrassed to face what had happened. So, I kept silent, and the more time that passed, the easier it was to just not dial his number. I told myself we could talk when he got home. Was it the right way to handle everything? No, definitely not, but there was no explaining that to my brain. So, when he texted our mom and asked for a ride from the airport for him and a few friends, I jumped at the chance.
He turns, his bag in hand, and smiles directly at me. With just that smile, everything else fades away. There is no anger there and no resentment at me for not calling or texting him. Only the affection I’ve always seen when he looks at me.
I cock my head to the side, debating my options. I can wait for him to get to me, or I can have a little fun with it. Obviously, I have to choose fun. Meaning that when I see him turn away briefly, I sprint the short distance between us and throw myself at him. Remy has no choice but to drop his duffel so that he can catch me, which he does with an even bigger smile on his face.
Overwhelmed and unable to process much of anything at the moment, I start crying into my brother’s shoulder. There is no chance the makeup on my face is going to survive the torrent of tears I’m currently shedding. Thankfully, he is traveling in BDUs because otherwise my mascara would be staining whatever he had on.
“Come on, Eddie.” His words don’t match his actions because he just squeezes me tighter.
“You’re embarrassing me,” I mutter into his shoulder once I have myself under control. “Let me go.”
“Nope.” He laughs and turns back to the other man who arrived with him. “Linc, can you grab my bag? I’ve got to torture Eddie here.”
At the mention of Linc’s name, I choke on imaginary spit. I saw him, of course, but seeing Remy for the first time in months has gotten the better of me. Although, if I’m being honest, there is no chance in hell that I’ve forgotten for a second that Lincoln Hayes is there. His brother, Danny? I could forget him in a heartbeat. It doesn’t even matter that he is almost identical to his brother. I know the difference, and for some reason, Danny always comes out behind. I’ll never forget Linc, even though I’ve tried.
“Shit,” I mutter and promptly hiccup. “Put me down, you stupid big-head.”
“Nope,” Remy says gleefully. “I think I’ll just carry you all the way to your tiny-ass car as punishment for making me get into that abomination.”
“Hey!” I slap him, hard. No one insults my baby, not even him. “Pedro the Prius is amazing and you’re lucky to get to ride in him. Only thing is, I didn’t bring my car. I brought your stupid truck.”
Remy freezes and carefully sets me down at the mention of his baby. “You brought her?” He almost looks choked up as he asks. And I know he remembers my intense dislike for anything bigger than a car. “You didn’t have to do that, Kennedy.”
“Yeah, I did,” I tell him honestly. “I’m working on overcoming my fears.” I mean to casually throw out the words, to make them lighthearted and fun. Instead, they come out loaded and heavy.
Thankfully, Danny completely ignores me and practically sprints outside.
“Shotgun!” he calls out over his shoulder.
Remy gives me a small kiss on the forehead and takes his bag from Linc. Then he follows his friend outside and leaves me alone with the only man in the world who is capable of bringing me to my knees.
He smiles almost nervously and runs a hand over the stubble on his face. His stupid, kissable face. Even standing there in public with him gives me butterflies. There is so much I want to tell him, but I can’t say a word. Not here and most definitely not now.
I swallow audibly and nod in the direction of the door. “We should go.”
“Yeah.”
Yet he doesn’t move, and neither do I.
Absently, I rub my wrist again. I can’t help it. In the months since everything happened, it’s become almost soothing. A reminder that I’m still here, still breathing, and I can conquer anything.
What I’m not prepared for is the sharp inhalation that comes from the man standing next to me. When I look up, I see he is staring angrily at the fading scars.
I do the only thing I can. I run out the door and to my brother’s truck without looking back, even though I know there is no real escape. Especially when he climbs into the truck silently and proceeds to stare at me the entire way home. His intent is clear.
Our conversation is far from over.
* * *
Linc
The rage boilingthrough my veins can’t be stopped. In fact, by the time we pull into Remy’s driveway, it is safe to say I am downright seething. I do, however, manage to keep a tight grip on myself, at least until Danny disappears into the house along with Kennedy. Kennedy, who avoided my gaze the entire drive back and practically fell out of the truck in her haste to get away.
Before Remy even takes a step away from the truck, I grab him by the arm.
“She tried to kill herself?” I may have whispered the words, but the dead air left in their wake is inescapable.
Remy has never, not once in all the years we’ve been best friends, ever taken a swing at me. But I swear to everything I hold dear, he is about to now.
Instinctively taking a step back, I hold my ground. “What happened to Kennedy? I saw her wrist.”
That same haunted look from the airport crosses his face, and I watch the anger fade away. With one glance at the house, I’m guessing to make sure that Kennedy isn’t about to come out, he leans against his truck.
“Somehow she got hurt. Won’t tell me how or why. Hell, she won’t even talk to a therapist about it. Though whatever it was, it hurt her enough that she thought it would be easier if she took her own life. My mom found her.” He slams a hand into the side of the truck and takes a deep breath. “Kennedy still won’t talk about it. She won’t tell me anything. She hasn’t answered any of my texts or calls since after boot.”
“What happened?” I ask one more time, trying as hard as I can to keep my emotions in check.
He can’t answer, though. I know he can’t since he literally just said as much. That does absolutely nothing to stop my impatience and determination. I need to find out exactly what happened to her.
“She’s so happy all the time.” The words tumble out before I can stop them. “I don’t understand what happened that could bring her down like that.”
“Mom and Dad are taking care of her,” Remy offers. “I know you care about her. We all do.”
Nodding along with him is pretty much the only thing I can do at this point. If I try to say anything, my anger may get the best of me. I don’t want that and Remy definitely doesn’t deserve that either.
“Can I do anything to help?” The thought of Kennedy sad or alone is enough to make it hard for me to breathe. Thinking of her being alone when she really needs someone there to protect her, even if it is from herself… almost brings me to my knees.
Remy doesn’t answer, and I find myself looking up to Kennedy’s window. She is there, with the curtain pulled aside, staring directly at me—not her brother. For a moment, just one, I let myself think about what we could have together. Then I push it aside and bring my attention back to Remy.
“Anything you need, I’ll do it.” He knows I’ll be there for him and his family, no matter what. Just like I had carried his ass through training when he needed it. He’d done the same for me, and that’s why we were going overseas together. Well, that and we’d lucked out and gotten the same duty station and unit.
Remy shoots me a grateful look before picking up his bag. “I’ll send Danny home when he gets done raiding my fridge. Will I see you tonight at the party?”
Shit. The party that his girlfriend is throwing as a way to welcome him home. I’d honestly forgotten all about it. My eyes stray up to Kennedy’s window again, but she is gone.
“Yeah. I’ll be there.” There is only one other place I’d rather be, and there’s no way I can trust myself to be alone with Kennedy. Not until I figure out what happened to her.
I pull out my phone to check the time, surprised when it isn’t even midafternoon yet. Still plenty of time to take a nap. Except for the fact that my mom and little sister are home, and there is no chance that they’ll leave me alone. Not when I’ve been gone for six months and especially since I didn’t tell them when I was coming home. The possibility that they’d make one of those huge, over-the-top garish signs welcoming us back was just too high. And I absolutely hate being the center of attention. It is bad enough that people in our hometown treat us like we are heroes for literally doing what so many of our parents have done before us.
“Actually, I think I’ll just take a nap here.” I grab my bag and start walking up to Remy’s front door. “There’s no way I’ll get any rest with my little sister at home.” Although it is a complaint, it is a good-natured one.
“Besides, your whole family lives on a crazy compound, and they’ll all be up in your shit.”
“It’s not a compound,” I tell him for the millionth time while we unload our bags in the hall and walk through the house. “We own most of a street from way back in the old days. So when my grandfather built rental houses on it and then died, it made sense to keep it in the family.”
Remy just shrugs. “Whatever, man. It’s weird that you all live on the same street. Not to mention you all eat and do all kinds of shit together. I would shoot myself if I had to live with my siblings that close to me.” He looks pointedly at all the girl crap piled high on his parents’ kitchen table when we walk in. “See what I mean?”
I don’t know what to say. I love the fact that after I’m done in the Marines, I’ll be close to my family. It makes the separation now so much easier to handle. It means that I don’t need to worry about cooking my own meals if I don’t want to. My mom was raised in the South, like the super South, and she always makes enough food to feed everyone.
His mom is standing there, waiting for us to pay attention to her like she hasn’t just spent months away from her only son. She is expectant, clearly waiting for him to give her a hug and tell her that he missed her. Still Remy is playing a game, one that their whole family seems to get in on from time to time. He did it with Kennedy at the airport too. They ignore each other, waiting until one or the other gives in and demands attention.
Honestly, I’m not sure which one of them will win this time. Remy learned everything he knows about women from the one standing in front of us. She is more stubborn than all of her kids, and me, put together. His mom is staring at both of us with one eyebrow raised and a hand on her hip. She has a spotless wooden spoon in one hand and wears an apron covered in flour. She looks like something out of a women’s magazine, like Pioneer Woman.
“Jeremy Townsend, you will get your ass over here right now and give your momma a hug, or so help me, I will beat you within an inch of your life.” Even though she is threatening him, it is clear to me that Mrs. T is getting ready to burst into tears if he waits any longer.
Still, it is adorable the way a five-foot-tall woman is able to command her son, at six foot four, to give her a hug.
“I love you too, Mama.” Then Remy hugs his momma like he’s been ordered.
Once they are done, Mama T is sniffling, and Remy looks like he is finally happy to be home.
“Well then.” She sniffs. “You two better eat, shower, and get rested. If I know those friends of yours, you’re in for one hell of a party.”