Page 52 of The Bad Brother
R IVER FELL ASLEEP HOURS AGO .
After we got back to the bar, I raided Sloane’s fridge and made her an early dinner—grilled steaks out on the balcony and home fries—before we sacked out in the living room to watch Netflix, using the password that started this whole mess.
ethanpryceisadouche.
No caps because he doesn’t deserve them.
The irony is not lost on me.
As soon as River fell asleep, curled up in one of the wide leather chairs that flank the couch, I turned off the TV and carried her across the hall to my apartment where I tucked her into the bed I haven’t slept in, in days.
Leaving Riv to sleep off the shitty day we’ve all had, I cross the hall again to clean up the dinner mess, the voices in my head growing progressively louder over each passing minute until I’m ready to shove a BBQ fork in my ear, just to get some relief.
Dishwasher loaded and leftovers put away, I don’t know what else to do. I texted Sloane hours ago, and even though I don’t expect an answer, I keep checking. Hoping against hope that maybe she read it. Maybe she’ll respond.
She hasn’t and she won’t.
Remembering my promise to Cal, I dial Cade’s number and listen to it ring, even though I don’t expect him to answer me either, but he does.
“What do you want?” he says, his tone surly without being hateful.
“I’m busy.” Even though Cade’s temper is the stuff of legends, and that legend includes prison time for murder, I know where he is.
It’s Sunday. That means he’s at home with Gunner, prepping for the last school week of the year.
I can hear him and Sera’s daughter, Scarlett, in the background, squabbling over the TV remote.
They’re close in age—both born the summer of 2015—and best friends, though I think either one of them would be hard-pressed to admit it right now.
“Nothing, I—” Fuck, I don’t even know why I called. “The guy from LoneStar is gonna be here in the morning. If you want, I can?—”
“You tryin’ to get out of paying me overtime?
” he asks, his tone hardening slightly. If Cade isn’t taking care of Gunner, he’s working—either behind the bar, slinging beer, or at the elementary school, mopping toilet stalls.
I give him overtime, as much as I can without making it obvious that I’m trying to help because kids are expensive and even though he lives with his mom, Cade pays his own way .
“No.” Stung by his tone and feeling like a little bitch about it, I sigh. “I was just trying to?—”
“Well, whatever you’re trying to do— stop ,” he says, cutting me off before moving the phone away from his mouth.
“ Give her the remote, Gun—it’s her turn…
because you just watched Ancient Aliens…
I don’t care if wrestling is stupid, give it to her .
” Coming back on the phone, Cade sighs into the receiver.
“It’s my job to take deliveries, right? I’m the one who keeps inventory,” he reminds me in the same I don’t care if wrestling is stupid tone, he just used on his ten-year-old-son.
“So, I’ll be in after I drop Scar and Gun off at school to do my job , unless there’s some reason you don’t want me to. ”
Ethan’s on one again.
He stabbed Orton Redford.
He’s psychotic and in my blindspot.
I don’t know what he’s going to do next.
“Maybe ask your dad to sit outside the kids’ school for the next few days.” All that’s left of the school year are a handful of bullshit half-days before kids are going to be free-ranging all over Barrett. Keeping track of them after that will be next to impossible.
“I’d be surprised if my dad isn’t already posted up by the flagpole,” Cade says with a laugh that breaks some of the tension between us.
“Okay—” I’d be lying if I said that didn’t make me feel better. “Maybe after school lets out, you, Sera, and your mom can take the kids to Galveston for a few weeks. I’ll rent a house and?—”
“Fuck you,” Cade snarls at me, tension roaring back. “Is that why you called? So you could pack me up and ship me off with the women and children?”
It’s not. At least I don’t think it is, but I don’t back down. Now that I’ve suggested it, them taking the kids and getting out of Barrett suddenly seems like the only reasonable solution to the dangerous problem my brother presents. “Cade?—”
“ Fuck. You .” He snarls it again, snapping the curse into bite-size pieces.
“Out of you, me and my brother, I’m the only one of us who’s actually killed someone, you fuckin’ dinging,” he reminds me quietly, probably so Aunt Penny doesn’t hear him and box his ears.
“So tell me how sending me off to make fuckin’ sandcastles for the summer, is going to help the situation? ”
“If another murder charge doesn’t earn you the needle, it’ll put you away for the rest of your life,” I tell him bluntly. “I can’t have that on my conscience, Cade—not on top of everything else.”
“Good thing I got a brother with a badge, this time around,” he says with a laugh.
When I don’t laugh with him, Cade sighs.
“Look, book the house if you want—fuck, book a trip to Disney World, if it’ll make you feel better—we can send Mom, Sera and the kids.
We’ll even send River—but I’ll be fucked if I’m leaving you and Colt, holding the bag. ”
“It’s my bag,” I remind him. “Ethan is my?—”
“You’re a Barrett,” he says in a tone that tells me the subject is closed and he won’t be moved. He’s not going anywhere. “See you tomorrow.”
Before I can argue my case any further, Cade hangs up.
Fuck .
Swiping a rough hand over my face, I toss my phone on the kitchen counter and don’t look at it again until it buzzes fifteen minutes later, signaling a text.
Reese: Billy wanted me to let you know that Sloane is on her way home.
Staring at the text, I let out a long, slow breath, reminding myself that Sloane is safe. From what Colt said, the employee lot at the hospital is completely locked down. Ethan can’t get to her. As long as she stays in her car and comes straight home, she should be okay.
Me: Okay. Thanks.
Hitting send, I hesitate for a second before I send another one.
Me: How’s your dad?
I watch bubbles dance across my screen for a while before a response pops up.
Reese: He’s doing okay. They’re keeping him pretty sedated for the next few days to keep him comfortable and compliant. lol
Laughing out loud, I think about Tank. The only thing he hated more than bad BBQ was hospitals. Before I can answer her, another texts pops up.
Reese: The woman who takes insurance information came by a bit ago and told me my dad’s surgery and everything that came after it has been paid for in full.
Red doesn’t have health insurance. He’s self-employed and not nearly old enough for Medicare.
If he makes it out of this thing alive, there’s going to be rehab.
Physical therapy. Home care. There’s no way he can afford that.
Billy works with his dad and Reese is a cop in a town with one stop light.
Unless one of them trains up to rob a bank, those hospital bills would chase Red into an early grave.
Me: It’s a relief to know things have been taken care of.
Those dancing bubbles again.
Reese: Thank you.
I contemplate playing stupid but I’m on thin ice with Reese. I don’t think insulting her intelligence is the way to go, so I ignore her last text altogether.
Backing out of my texts, I open my camera app and watch the front lot until I see headlights swing in from the street.
Recognizing Sloane’s sporty, red compact, I have to mentally nail my feet to the floor to keep myself from bolting downstairs.
As soon as the car stops, I adjust the angle of the camera so I can watch the street, certain that Ethan is going to show up like he did this morning.
I don’t know why he was here—all I know is that I’m glad Cade was here to walk her to her car.
A few minutes go by and even though Sloane’s car is parked, she hasn’t gotten out. Zooming in, I can see her through the windshield. She’s sitting in the driver’s seat, head lowered, the faint glow of her cell phone illuminating her face. She’s reading something.
Against my better judgment, I minimize the window on the app and open up my texts. While the text I sent her hours ago now shows as read, she didn’t respond. Opening the camera app again, I see that Sloane is out of her car and heading across the parking lot toward the bar.