Page 93 of Mr. Brightside

“Yeah. Friend of yours?” I scoff, desperate to lighten the mood.

“Hold on,” Julian mutters, pulling his phone out of his pocket and swiping aggressively across the screen. I watch as his eyes narrow further with each swipe.

After what feels like an hour of silence, but in reality is only a few minutes, he explains what he’s doing. “Ashleigh and I are both on the alumni advisory committee at Archway. We just signed off on the hiring of an Ian McDowell.”

Rage and adrenaline course through my veins with the reminder. My body flushes with hatred when I think about that man, both in terms of what he did back then, as well as what he could do again now in an administrative position at Archway Preparatory Academy.

“That’s him,” I manage to say through gritted teeth.

Julian’s head snaps over to look at me. I can see the shock and disgust mapped across his face in the blue-light glow of his phone.

“How do you know?”

“Because he came into my bar tonight, and I recognized him. One of my employees chatted him up, and he mentioned he’d just been hired.”

“No fucking way,” Julian sputters, his outrage tangible. “Not on my watch.”

“Wait…” I muse, starting to connect the dots. “Can you do something about him?”

He holds my gaze and smirks. “You bet your ass I can. He’s gone. He hasn’t even started, but he’s done. I’ll have to make a few calls tomorrow, but there’s no way in hell that predator will be on the payroll or anywhere near students at any institution ever again.”

A tsunami of emotion smashes into me, assailing me from all sides. There’s relief and redemption, shame and unhealed pain. A spiral of self-loathing twists in my gut, but it’s replaced by something lighter. Something brighter. Something that feels a lot like hope.

I suck in a frantic, ragged breath when I finally snap out of it. I never, in a million years, thought that my brother—who I have dismissed for most of my life because of the similarities he shares with Joe—would be in a position to right this wrong.

I think I’m still in shock, but Julian’s regarding me with his brows raised.

My words come out forced but steady. It’s like I’m too afraid to ask him to do what he’s already offering. “I think if you have the power to remove him, you should. You don’t want someone like that working at Arch when the girls are old enough to attend.”

I grind my molars and hold my breath, desperate for his confirmation.

“Jake,” he admonishes in a way that has me doing a double take. I stare into his eyes as he shatters the last wall between us. “It’s not just about them. I’m doing this for you.”

For me?

Julian wants to do this for me.

This was so not how I expected this night to go. And yet here I sit, my leg pressed up against my big brother’s, his daughter cradled in my arms. For the first time in my life, at least where my family is concerned, I feel the power of giving—and receiving—unconditional love.

Chapter 39

Cory

Isitaloneatthe kitchen island, staring at the natural stone until I see shapes in the quartz. I chance a glimpse at the clock on the microwave—again. The digital display mocks me as it reveals that less than two minutes have passed since I last looked.

3:52 a.m.

He isn’t here.

He hasn’t called.

He isn’t coming home.

I scoff as I think about the last time I sat up all night, waiting for the man I married. Was that really only a few weeks ago? It feels like we’ve lived a lifetime together since then.

We’ve grown.

We’ve changed.