Page 105 of A Cold Hard Truth

He collapsed back into the uncomfortable wooden chair and pulled out his phone. He dropped it on the table and swiped through his contact list until he came to his brother. He double tapped the circular avatar to enlarge the picture of them as kids that he so often returned to. It felt like another life. Sebastian’s experience was so far removed from the Sebastian in the picture he couldn’t begin to put words to it.

“I gave you a sincere answer,” he said.

Rhys sat down in the chair next to him instead of the one at the other end of the table where he’d eaten. He picked up Sebastian’s coffee mug, added sugar, and took a drink. Sebastian sighed and flipped his phone over, hiding the screen.

“Was that us?” Rhys asked, reaching for the phone.

Sebastian knew better than to fight him, instead keying in his passcode when Rhys turned the phone onto its back. The screen lit up with the picture and Rhys’s expression softened. He looked at the phone, a little confused and a little sad.

“When was this?” Rhys asked.

“The regatta,” Sebastian answered. “I was in sixth grade.”

“You won that year.” Rhys slid the phone closer to Sebastian, and he glanced down at the picture. Sebastian wore a big smile, and Rhys’s arm looped over his shoulder had made him feel prouder than any medal or sash ever could.

“Did I?”

“You beat me,” his brother answered, standing and smoothing his hands down the front of his blue and white plaid button-up. “See? You’re not always second. Now quit drinking and get your head on. We have plans tonight.”

“Another circumstance where I came first,” Sebastian murmured.

“Did you just make a sex joke?” Rhys let out a loud laugh. “I don’t know how I feel about that, but you’re not wrong, brother. Now get it together so you can get out of my hair.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Remington Takes a Trip

Help had arrived Monday night in an unexpected form.

Jace had come over, true to his word. He’d listened to Remington with all the quiet compassion Remington had offered him through their friendship. He’d agreed when appropriate and offered Remington his shoulder when he grew tired. Jace fell asleep on the couch, and Remington covered him with a blanket before going into his room, not feeling any better about things.

He’d climbed into bed and as soon as his head hit the pillow, his phone rang. His heart skittered into his throat, hoping like a child on Christmas it would be Sebastian calling. It wasn’t, at least, he didn’t think it was, but it was a number from Mallardsville according to the caller ID, so he answered.

“Hello?”

“Remington Dockery,” a familiar voice said in his ear.

“What can I do for you, Rhys?” Remington pulled off his glasses and tossed them on the side table, then covered his eyes with his forearm. He didn’t like Rhys. Didn’t like the way he treated Sebastian, and didn’t like the way he’d treated Jace and Callahan either. He had yet to find a redeeming quality in the man, and he didn’t care enough to look hard.

“Get on a plane and come handle my brother,” Rhys said.

It was the absolute last thing Remington had expected the other man to say, and he sat up quickly, banging his head against the headboard as he moved.

“What?”

“He’s going to need you tomorrow.”

“Why? What’s happening?”

Rhys made an unamused sound. “Do you always ask so many questions?”

“Are you always such a prick?” Remington countered.

“Yes,” Rhys answered, “so I’m told.”

“Generally, no,” Remington answered Rhys’s question in return. “I almost always know the answers in the first place.”

“An education at Chicago Latin School will do that to a person.”