2. Jackson
Jackson
We finished the short drive to Iris’s place in silence, with her staring out the window, arms crossed. When I pulled into her driveway, I tried one last time. “Pack a bag and come back out here.”
I knew it was stupid to offer. Not because of any trouble Iris’s deadbeat mom might bring to my door, but because I’d never been able to see Iris like I was supposed to, like a bonus sibling to watch out for. No, I saw every curve and feature and far, far beyond, to the tender heart underneath.
But I’d much rather spend a sleepless night on my couch, imagining her in my bed, than a sleepless night in my bed, worrying about her being here alone.
She snorted, flung herself out of the car, and stomped toward her house, wobbling in her shoes. I had to fight the urge to follow her, offer her my arm, but she’d surely toss her head and tell me to get back in the car.
So, I watched her. Or, more accurately, I watched her round ass sway back and forth as she mounted the handful of stairs to get on her porch.
I watched the delicate curve of her hand as she turned the handle of her front door, her pale skin glowing in the yellow light of her porch.
The loose legs of her jeans swirling as she stepped inside and shut the door behind her.
Then I waited in her driveway, in case she changed her mind, and reminded myself that I shouldn’t be looking at her like that, no matter how tightly her jeans hugged her generous ass, or how sexy her dark hair looked pulled up in that high ponytail, or how sweetly she’d settled into the seat of my SUV.
Travis trusted me to look after his sister while he was away, and I couldn’t repay that trust by sleeping with her.
You want to do more than sleep with her.
Travis wouldn’t mind if you were serious about her.
And I would be, if I ever had half a chance.
Serious about Iris, that is. She was the perfect combination of feisty and kindhearted.
I wanted to sit her in my kitchen and cook for her, push her onto my couch and tell her to relax while I rubbed her feet.
Throw her down on my bed and make her see god.
But I’d taken myself out of the running for serious eight years ago. Kneecapped any dreams in a single night. Because Iris wasn’t picky; she had standards, and one of them was she wouldn’t tolerate liars. And me? I’d never be with someone I was keeping secrets from.
And one big secret had just waltzed back into town, with bad news written all over her.
The buzzing of my phone jerked me out of my self-castigation.
Go home Jackson. I’m fine.
With a sigh, I pulled out of her driveway. I already had a shit-ton on my plate, but I added “getting Sue the fuck out of town” to the list.
It shouldn’t be too hard. It never had been before.
The next morning, I woke extra early, dragged myself out of bed, and drove an hour to the nearest minimum-security prison, feeling more like a hired taxi service than ever.
Not for Iris’s family drama, though. This was for mine.
Cole shouldn’t have been over at my place so late last night, but we’d had to figure out what to do with Hunter.
Not that we’d made much progress before Savannah called.
I’d been ready to let Cole deal with her, since it would put an end to our endless arguing, until she said she was with Iris.
At the prison, I had to do the usual pat-down and metal detector, plus a bunch of extra paperwork before they finally sent out Hunter.
It was a shock to see him in regular clothes instead of institutional green.
The T-shirt and jeans must have been the same ones he’d been wearing when he was arrested four years ago.
Before he’d gone in, these same clothes had hung off of him, but now they stretched tight over his chest and shoulders.
The men in our family had always been sturdily built—broad shouldered, barrel chested, hairy as fuck—and Hunter looked a lot healthier with the weight and muscle he’d put on in prison. Then again, what else did he have to do inside besides work out?
The buzz cut he’d taken to wearing in prison would almost pass as a fashion choice, rather than one made out of convenience, except for the smattering of faded and shaky tattoos on his hands and arms, none of which he’d received in a legitimate shop.
“Hey,” he said.
“Hey.” I nodded to the bundle in his hands. “Is that everything?”
“Yeah.” He glanced around. “They give us the all-clear?”
“Yeah.”
“Great, let’s get the hell out of here.”
He didn’t need to tell me twice. We got out as fast as the guards would let us and booked it to my car.
Inside, he slumped in the passenger seat. “Can I crash with you for a few days?”
I snorted. “A few days? Where are you planning to go after that?”
He shrugged.
No plan. Just crossing his fingers and hoping. “Cole agreed to let you stay with him until you find your own place.” Actually, Cole offered. I hadn’t wanted to make our youngest brother take on the burden, but the kid had been adamant.
“When’d Cole get his own place?”
“Last year.” I’d visited Hunter several times since then. So had Cole. Had we forgotten to mention it? Shame clawed at my throat, quickly shoved down.
I’d tried to convince Cole to live with me another few years and save up enough for a house, but he’d decided he’d rather live on his own.
“So, what’s your plan now?” I asked, maybe to torture myself. In all his life, Hunter had never had a plan beyond the next evening’s fun.
“Start looking for a job.”
“That’s going to be pretty difficult with a felony on your record.”
“It’s going to be even more difficult if I sit on my ass and wait for a job to fall into my lap.”
Gut churning, I waited for him to ask me to hire him at my shop. I’d have to say no. I couldn’t hire a thief, even if he was my brother.
He turned back to the window.
Refusing to help my own brother get a job would have been awful, but necessary after the way he’d acted.
Somehow, his not even asking felt worse.
We made the rest of the drive to Cole’s place in silence.
“Thanks, Jackson.” Hunter got out of the car, then paused for a long moment. “I know you don’t believe me, and you don’t have to believe me, but I’m sorry. About everything.”
He shut the door before I could respond to that statement. Not that I knew what the hell to say.
I checked the time, then pulled out, hoping to leave my uncomfortable feelings in the parking lot.
I should go by the shop. Cole was holding down the fort with just him and one other guy, and Saturdays were always busy, but I couldn’t stop myself from driving to the motel Iris had pointed Sue toward last night.
A quick cruise through the parking lot didn’t turn up any familiar cars, but then again, I didn’t expect to recognize whatever beater Sue rode into town on.
It was around eleven, so I parked in a far corner and waited, hoping to catch her before she went to Iris’s and stirred up a whole mess of trouble.
Iris wouldn’t thank me for it if she ever found out, but what was one more secret added to the pile? Besides, this was for her own good.
Thirty minutes later, I rubbed gritty eyes and called it quits. I’d not seen a single familiar face. Maybe Sue had figured out that Iris didn’t have much money to give her and crawled back to whatever rock she’d been hiding under for the past year and a half.
Only, it was unlike her to leave of her own accord. Not when she knew she could shake me down first.
With a sigh, I headed back to my shop, promising myself I’d check on Iris after work. She’d probably be upset her mom had skipped town. Iris still clung to the hope that one day Sue would get clean, but damned if I’d let that witch drag Iris through her ups and downs ever again.
Work was no less peaceful. Cole was up my ass the second I arrived.
“Did you even check if Hunter needed anything before you dumped him at my place?” He was a little shorter than me, a little thicker through the chest, but generally had the same Hayes family looks as me and Hunter. At work, he kept his long dark hair in a bun and out of the way of any machinery.
I pinched the bridge of my nose. “He’s got a roof over his head, and you’ve got food in the fridge, don’t you?”
“He had to borrow my car so he could job hunt.”
I thumbed through the list of repairs we had today. “What’s he need a car for? Don’t they do that shit online?” The last time I’d had to hire someone, not a single person had shown up looking for a paper application, which was good, because I didn’t have one to give them.
“He wanted to drive around and see who was hiring.”
I snorted and went to my locker to retrieve my tools. “More like he wanted to get in touch with his old buddies.”
Cole shoved his phone in my face. “No, see?” He thumbed through several pictures of “we’re hiring” signs from all over town, all sent in the last hour.
“Great. He’ll find something in no time.” If he actually bothered, that was.
“Why not hire him here? He already knows how to do everything.”
I dropped my toolbox on a workbench and glared at him.
“I did that once already, and he stole a bunch of my tools and sold them for drug money.” Those were expensive tools, and Hunter had sold them for a quarter of what they were worth, shot the whole thing in his arm, and been too high to tell me a damn thing about who he might have sold them to. Replacing them had taken months.
Cole had still been in college, taking auto-mechanic classes and working here part time, so Hunter’s issues hadn’t been his focus, but even he must remember the fight Hunter and I had when I’d discovered it.
I’d kicked Hunter out of the house that night, and we didn’t hear from him for three months.
I’d worried he’d died, and I hadn’t known how to feel about it.
Cole’s mouth tightened. “He’s changed. You know he hasn’t used in three years. If it bothers you that much, don’t let him near the till or let him borrow your tools.”
It was true; for the last three years of visits, Hunter had shown no signs of using. He’d put on weight, he was alert, and no new track marks marred his arms. “Staying clean in prison is completely different from staying clean in the real world.”
“How’s he supposed to figure out how to do that when his own family doesn’t believe in him? Won’t give him another chance?”
“Another chance? He’s got a roof, food, and doesn’t have to worry about rent or bills.”
“Yeah, my roof and my food.”
“What do you think I slipped you five hundred bucks last night for? It wasn’t for your sweet attitude.” It had been to assuage my guilt for not being willing to put up with Hunter myself, plain and simple. And I’d practically had to shove the cash into Cole’s pockets.
“Whatever, dude. I’m taking my lunch break.” He flung a towel on the floor and disappeared out the door. Probably to that little cafe Savannah worked at, so he could make eyes at her when her back was turned.
I’d make fun of him for pining after a girl who didn’t want him, but I wasn’t that much of a hypocrite.
Yanking open the car hood, I stared down at the engine of the beat-up Ford I’d told Mrs. Peters to replace two years ago. Fixing her mysterious clicking sound would be so much more straightforward than dealing with my brothers.
Within a few hours, I still hadn’t figured out what was causing that damn click, and I was confronted with one of the few things I missed about working with Hunter. He was always better at figuring out the weird shit than I was. But I’d figured out how to get along just fine without him.