Page 25 of Skin Game

Casey spent the short drive to the marina rehashing his and Mickie’s last conversation. It always helped to think something into the ground. The conversation had occurred after Casey had, apparently, checked in on his brother one too many times. Oops.

Gabriel was perceptive. It hadn’t taken him long to figure out that Casey was wound up about the possibility of Pedro and Mickie together.Togethertogether, as Gabe put it, smiling while he gently teased him. He should have never told him about last Saturday.

Casey’s concerns weren’t about the gay part, obviously, it was the life experience part. The behind-bars-for-years part. What did Mickie know about real life?

Worse, somehow, it was Casey who’d introduced his brother to the island’s one and only small animal veterinarian, Pedro Morales. Mickie had been at loose ends, he’d needed something to do, and he’d worked extensively with the prison’s dog training program while he’d been incarcerated.

It seemed like a perfect fit for him, and Mickie had jumped at the chance to work with and train “untrainable” dogs, which were just one of Pedro’s many passion projects. Dogs who werelucky to be alive but maybe had been returned one too many times to a rescue or had exhibited negative behavior. Whatever the reason, the prison’s program had been a last chance for the canines. And now Mickie was doing the same thing at the clinic.

With likable, nice Pedro. Very rich, very cute Pedro.Ugh.

Casey had been thrilled at first. But recently, Mickie had begun to act differently. Secretive. He didn’t always reply to Casey’s texts or phone calls. And when he finally got in touch, it was quick, almost a brush-off. They’d planned to meet for coffee and Mickie was often late, one time by an hour.

Finally, a couple of weeks ago, he’d met Mickie for lunch and asked him outright what was going on. Was there a problem that Casey needed to solve? That was when the hammer dropped. Mickie told him it was time to back off. The conversation had been painful, and Casey was still feeling a bit hurt.

“Case.” Mickie had used his childhood nickname, so Casey knew he was in for it. “You mean well. I know you do. While I was inside losing my mind, you were the only person who was there for me. You fought, gave me hope when I didn’t have any. I can never thank you enough for that.”

“Of course I did!” Casey had responded. “You’re my brother, my family.”

Their parents had acted like prison was all about them and not about Mickie being falsely accused of murder. As if Mickie had failed them, not the other way around. Casey’s blood still boiled when he let himself think about them. Maybe he should have forgiven them by now, but he still couldn’t bring himself to, not yet. Maybe not ever.

“Please try not to take what I’m about to say to you the wrong way.” Which almost guaranteed that Casey would, in fact, take what his brother had to say the wrong way. Mickie had stared at him for a long time before speaking again.

Finally, Mickie said, “I need some space. I need you to back off a little and let me breathe.”

Casey had opened his mouth to protest, but Mickie held a hand up, stopping him, and continued.

“Prison was terrible, the worst, but now I’m a free man and doing what I can to put the experience behind me, in the past where I want it to belong. I can’t and never will deny that it made me who I am today. My twenties and thirties were stolen from me, but I need to make my space in this lifenow. If I make a bad choice or a terrible decision, I can pick myself up, don’t worry. It won’t be the end of the world, I promise. You’re my brother, I love you, but I need you to back off. Please.”

Then he had stopped speaking, an expectant expression on his face.

The words were rehearsed; Casey could tell they were. Mickie had been thinking about saying them for a while. Well, shit, didn’t he feel terrible.

“Um. Okay. I’m sorry you feel that way, that I’ve made you feel some way I didn’t intend. It’s just, Mickie, I worry.”

“I know, and that’s part of the problem. You worried about me for nearly twenty years. Me being behind bars shaped you too. Think about it. What would you have done, who would you have become if”—he waved a hand—“all that fucked-up shit hadn’t happened? Stop worrying about me now. Step back from the job you gave yourself. Maybe try being my brother instead of my parent. Which is way weird anyway since I’m eight years older than you.”

What could he have said? What Casey did say was, “Okay, of course.”

“Thanks, man. I promise that I’ll reach out if I need anything.” Then Mickie had given him a quick hug and next thing he knew, Casey was hearing his footsteps as he hopped offThe Barbaraand jogged down the pier to the parking lot where he’d left his van.

Since that conversation, he and Mickie had communicated mainly via cat memes. But just Saturday morning, he’d sort ofaccidentally-on-purpose driven past the cabin Mickie was renting while he sorted out his future. Casey’s plan had been along the lines of saying, “Hey, I was in the neighborhood, do you have coffee going yet?”

The van Mickie drove had not been parked in its usual spot. Casey had headed to Heartstone Veterinary Clinic, thinking he’d gone in to work early. Very early. But Mickie’s van hadn’t been there either. Unable to stop himself, he’d sped over to Pedro’s spread, worried that Mickie had been injured or something worse and hadn’t told him.

Honestly, he still didn’t know what he’d been thinking because Mickie was a grown man and could call 9-1-1 if he needed to. When Mickie’s silver carpenter-style van had come into view, a huge sigh of relief had escaped him. There it was. Parked next to Pedro’s white van, the one with Heartstone Vet Clinic painted on the side. Then Casey’d noticed that both windshields were covered with early spring frost.

He could still feel the intense heat of embarrassment that had scorched his cheeks. “For fuck’s sake. You are such an idiot.”

He’d let himself spiral with worry and had driven all the way over to Pedro’s to check in on Mickie when he’d specifically been asked not to. Mickie didn’t need to be checked on, he needed privacy. Which was what he’d asked for, and Casey hadn’t been able to abide by a simple request. Maybe Mickie was having a morning coffee with Pedro, but it sure looked to Casey as if coffee had started the night before.

Hoping he hadn’t been spotted, Casey had slammed the truck into reverse, backed down the driveway, and taken himself away to park headquarters. Hours later, when Greta had asked why he was in “a worse mood than usual,” he’d made something up, he couldn’t remember what, and she obviously hadn’t believed him. Greta was no fool.

And neither was Gabe, who’d been kind when Casey told him about his temporary idiocy. He’d also been right just now;Casey did need some space to think this evening. Brood. Whatever.

So here he was, heading toThe Barbara, alone, when Gabe was at his house, alone. He almost turned back right then, but he truly did have a few maintenance chores that he’d gotten behind on. A sailboat always needed something.

Opening the gate, Casey let Bowie in first and then locked up and followed his goofy dog. Casey felt a few drops of rain against his cheeks after a typical early spring day of misting on and off. The mostly hidden sun was slipping behind the tops of the mountains, and soon it would be fully dark.