“I thought she was gonna slam the door in our face.” I looked across at the picturesque suburban street. “She blamed me, Red. She fucking told me to my face that it was all my fault.”

“It was not,” Phebe said vehemently.

I smiled at her defense of me. I wasn’t sure I’d ever forgive myself for what I did, but I fucking appreciated how she wouldn’t stop trying until I did.

Claire came back outside and placed down the tea. She handed us each a glass and nervously sat in the seat opposite me, running her hands over her floral dress. “Tom was transferred from Plano when Zane was twelve.” I stilled as she mentioned my nephew’s name. “We’d heard you had come to Austin too, and from the minute we arrived—before that, in fact—we’ve been searching for you.”

“Why?” I asked gruffly.

Claire’s shoulders sagged. “Because he missed you, Xavier. He missed you so much.” I didn’t expect the fucking lump to build in my throat, but then I didn’t expect that Zane had wanted me . . . after everything.

“It was a lot, you know? Losing Tina and Dev like he did . . . the way he did. His parents gone in such a violent way. But what I will never forgive myself for was him losing you too.” Claire straightened her shoulders and flicked away a tear that had fallen from her eye. “I was so hurt by what Dev had done to Tina. I was so angry, was so blinded by fury, that I believed I was doing best by sending you from his life.” She regarded me with guilt in her gaze. “I blamed you.” Her words were a fucking blow to my chest. “I blamed you and thought you would hurt Zane too.”

My hand tightened around the glass in my hand. “It was my fault.” I looked down at the ice melting in my tea. “I fucked up. I fucked up, and all the shit that came to Dev and Tina—fuck, to Zane—was all on me.”

“AK,” Phebe said in a hushed voice and clutched my arm. But I couldn’t look at my bitch. If I did, I knew I would fucking break.

“He had PTSD, Xavier,” Claire said, and I lifted my head. “I had to have a lot of counseling. It took me years to deal with her death.” Claire choked on a sob. “She was my baby sister. And he killed her. Dev, the boy she had loved since high school . . . I couldn’t comprehend it. Couldn’t believe it.” She pulled herself together. “But over the years I had it explained to me in such a way that I do understand now.” She sniffed. “What Dev went through in Iraq . . .” I tensed. “The little help he got when he returned, left to fend off the darkness alone . . . I can understand how it happened. He never truly came back. He remained living in that time until he died.” She swallowed. “It still hurts. And there isn’t a day goes by that I don’t think of Tina, especially if Zane does something that she would have done—a gesture, an expression, saying a certain word.” Her face crumpled. “It has been very hard.”

“I know,” I said and felt my own fucking tears rising.

“But I was wrong. That boy didn’t cope well with losing Dev and Tina.” Claire glanced away to gain composure. When she looked back, she said, “But you were his best friend. He idolized you above anyone, and he knew you were out there somewhere. He didn’t understand why you weren’t coming to see him.

“I told him it was me. I told him I had sent you away because I was angry. And he hated me. For a while there, he had a real hard time.” She blinked, her eye makeup running some. “But he is a good kid, Xavier. A kind boy. Smart boy.” She broke down, and I held out my hand and covered hers. It was trembling. “They would have been so proud of him.” She laughed sadly. “He looks like you. Just like Dev. Like a Deyes man.”

My head dropped as she told me that. Her hand flipped under mine and she squeezed my fingers. I still couldn’t fucking look up. “He begged us to look for you. He wanted you so badly, his Uncle X. We cashed in every favor we could with friends in the police, government, but it was like you had fallen off the grid.”

“I had,” I said when I could finally look at her again. My cheeks were fucking wet, but this was Zane she was talking about. My fucking nephew wanting to see me. Needing me, and I wasn’t fucking there for him.

After everything he’d gone through, I hadn’t been there.

“We had to give up eventually.” Claire shook her head. “But every time we go out anywhere, he looks for you. We believed you were in Austin, so he never stops looking.” Claire’s eyebrows came down. “And here you are, at our door.”

“It was time to come find him,” I said. I felt Phebe’s cheek land on my arm.

“He’ll be home soon.” Claire checked her watch. “School will have gotten out. He’ll be here any minute now.”

The nerves that accosted me were so fucking strong that I had to fight to fucking breathe. Then I felt Phebe tense beside me.

I didn’t look up. By her reaction, I knew he was here somewhere.

“He does look just like you,” she said, her voice thick with emotion. That was all it took for me to raise my head. I heard the gate open before I saw him. He was looking at my bike, his head turned in that direction as he walked up the path. Then he turned. He turned and looked toward the porch. Brown eyes, long brown hair. Jeans, a white shirt, and black boots on his feet.

Fuck.

It took him a second to see me. But when I stood, looking right into his eyes, I saw his brief confusion come clear. And I fucking saw the recognition hit home. He was tall, like me, and for a fifteen-year-old, fairly stacked. But it was his fucking eyes that I couldn’t get past. Because looking back at me was Dev. My brother was looking at me through his kid.

His backpack hit the ground, and he stood dead still. “Uncle X?” he said, and it sliced right through me. His voice that I once knew as belonging to a kid had dropped.

He sounded just like Dev now too.

“Hey, kid.” I stepped forward. But I stopped when I saw his eyes close and his head drop. I panicked, panicked that he didn’t want me here after all. But when a low sound came from his mouth and he launched forward up the steps to the porch and wrapped his arms around me, I fucking broke.

The kid was crying. Fucking holding me so damn hard that I fucking broke too. I held on tight to my nephew and wasn’t sure I could ever let go. Last time he was in my arms like this he was little and thin. Now he was anything but, but it still felt the same. My chest still felt as fucking big.