Beneath the Truth Page 4

After she finished dispensing her wisdom, Mom’s eyes filled with tears as she extended both hands and we gripped them.

“I love you boys. Please be safe. This family has borne too much loss. It’s time for happiness.” Her lips formed into a trembling smile despite her tears. “And maybe some grandbabies to spoil.”

When she released our hands, Rock offered her another tissue to dab at the tears clinging to her lashes.

None of us volunteered to go out and impregnate someone, but if I had to guess what Rock was thinking, I’d say he was running through a list of women in his head to decide if there was anyone suitable.

An image of one woman flashed through my mind, and it wasn’t the dark-haired beauty I’d lost to Rix last year. I had already moved on from my hang-up with Valentina before my life went to shit. No, the woman who came to mind was a redhead with a quick smile and an even quicker brain.

Ariel Sampson. The girl next door. My best friend’s little sister. A woman off-limits to me who I’d worked hard to forget since the last time she blew in from the West Coast and then left just as quickly.

That red hair of hers had stood out like a flame against the slim-fitting black dress she’d worn to the funeral, bright enough to penetrate even the haze of my grief.

She hadn’t approached me. Hadn’t approached any of us.

And I probably wouldn’t see her again for another five years, if ever.

“You getting out?”

Rock’s question shook me from my thoughts, making me realize we were parked in front of my hotel.

“Yeah. Sorry.” I shook each of my brothers’ hands before hugging my mom tight. “Take care, Mom. I love you.”

She squeezed me in return, and I climbed out of the limo to watch them turn the corner and disappear. My family would never be the same again.

The missed calls still registered in my phone’s memory would haunt me for the rest of my life. What was Dad going to tell me? Why the fuck didn’t I answer? Regret and shame consumed me in equal measure.

I stood before the tall building, dreading the idea of going up to my room and staring at the TV for hours, hoping it would drown out my grief. No. Not tonight. Tonight, I was getting drunk.

I headed inside, ready to get the hell out of my suit and into jeans so I could make my way to my old haunt where people would leave me to drink my whiskey in peace.

4

Ariel

Heath took Dad back to his place since the windows were blown out of our childhood home from the force of the blast that destroyed the Hennessys’ house next door. The city had announced that all affected dwellings must be inspected and cleared before people could return, so it was going to be at least a week before Dad would be allowed to move back in.

I would have offered a bedroom, but I wasn’t sure how long I was staying in town. After I saw how bad Dad’s arthritis had gotten, I decided a few days would be a good idea. It didn’t seem like he was taking care of himself the way he should, and his repeated questions about his uniform seemed like more than normal forgetfulness.

Carver, my driver for the time I was in New Orleans, navigated the streets toward the house I’d rented on Lake Pontchartrain. My last-minute travel plans didn’t leave me with many options, but this place worked out well. Tonight, I planned to indulge in a glass or two of bourbon, a bubble bath, and sleep. What I wasn’t looking forward to was the call that was supposed to be coming from my on-again/off-again boyfriend, Carlos. We were overdue to be off again.

My phone chimed in my purse and I pulled it out. Heath.

“Everything okay?” I asked.

“I tracked down Rhett and I’m heading to the bar. You should come. I know you missed him at the funeral.”

My brother knew about my crush. In fact, he’d gone out of his way to make sure everyone knew about my crush. Even now, I wasn’t above putting him on the no-fly list out of spite for the angst he’d caused me as a self-conscious teenager.

I opened my mouth to decline because saying “no” to social activities that required leaving my house was normally one of my favorite things, but something stopped me. One of my other special skills was avoiding reality when I didn’t want to deal with it, and finding the right words to tell Carlos that we were done fell firmly into that category.

“Where are you going?”

“Molly’s on Toulouse. You know the place, right? I know you’ve barely been home in the last decade, but you should remember a few things.” Bitterness crept into Heath’s tone.

“Twice. I’ve been home twice in the last decade, and yes, I remember where Molly’s is.” Did I sound defensive? Maybe.

“Good. Meet us there.” He ended the call without waiting for a response.

Ugh. I hesitated for a full sixty seconds before asking Carver to change direction.

The last time I went to Molly’s was when I was twenty-one and finally feeling like I’d come into my own. Four years in California not giving a shit about what anyone thought, along with developing and selling a few apps while I was in college, had improved my confidence measurably, not to mention my finances.

It had only taken one night at Molly’s to grind all that newfound cool-kid attitude into dust, though, and of course it was all because of one guy. Rhett Hennessy. I swear, he could be linked to every good and bad memory I had in this town, which probably had something to do with why I only came back when it was absolutely necessary.

To this day, I hadn’t forgotten what it felt like to walk into that bar with my newly legal ID and see my brother and Rhett in the middle of a group of girls vying for their attention, each one taller, skinnier, and prettier than me. I was going through my Cali no-fucks-given phase, so I was wearing ripped boyfriend jeans and a worn white T-shirt shredded on the sides with a black bra under it. For me, it was the height of daring, especially knowing who I would be seeing.

Except Rhett hadn’t teased me like usual. Hadn’t asked me why I’d stolen his T-shirt (except I hadn’t . . . not this time). No, he’d ignored me. Pretended I didn’t exist.

The only saving grace was that he’d been blind to the pack of girls too, or so I’d thought. When he left an hour after I arrived, and I might have kept track down to that last minute, one particularly gorgeous stacked blonde exited the bar through the same door two minutes later.

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