Felix left not too long after that. Probably he didn’t see any reason to linger. He’d said his piece and made his intentions known. At that point, it was up to me.
At least the rain had stopped sometime during our conversation, and the sun looked as if it was trying to come out, although its presence didn’t do quite as much as I’d hoped to improve my mood. I checked my phone, but I didn’t have any missed texts or calls.
“He’ll contact you,” Silas said as he rubbed my neck. With Felix gone, the two of us could sit closer to one another on the couch and share displays of affection I was certain the blond gula wouldn’t have appreciated. “I’m sure he’s just waiting for the right opportunity. If he’s on a plane surrounded by people, he’s not going to make what could be a highly charged call.”
“You’re probably right.” I was quiet for a moment, letting Silas’ powerful fingers knead some of the tension from my neck and shoulders. Right then, it was enough to enjoy his touch, the palpable sense of love and comfort that seemed to flow from his fingertips. “It just feels like he’s been in the air forever.”
“Well, it’s not a short flight, and you only texted him a little over an hour ago.” He lifted his hands from my shoulders, and I turned around so I could face him. Although his gaze was serious enough, one corner of his mouth quirked slightly. “Maybe we should go out for a while, get some air, have some lunch.”
“Are you sure that’s safe?” I looked from him to the still-dripping garden outside. Now that the sun was out, its rays caught the drops of rain on the grass and leaves, turning them into a constellation of shimmering diamonds. I didn’t know what I was expecting to see out there, but all that time as Lucius’ prisoner had made me more than a little paranoid.
“As safe as it can be,” he said. “It’s daytime, and the vampires are asleep. All of Lucius Montfort’s semivives are dead, so who would even be able to track us down?”
“They’re not all dead,” I said gloomily. “There are the two semivives he made last night. Also, Brian wasn’t at the mansion during the raid. He was at home, pretending to be normal.”
Silas touched my hand. “Do you really think he would venture all the way out here to Hollywood?”
“I don’t know.” Actually, I hadn’t stopped to think what he’d be doing. During the day, he could come and go as he pleased, since Lewis was at work and not around to see what his partner was up to. I wondered if Lucius had contemplated having Brian come to the mansion for guard duty after all the other semivives had been destroyed, but that wouldn’t have been a very good idea. All of Lucius’ semivives looked as if they had been chosen because they would make good bodyguards, whereas Brian had the slightly flabby physique of a stereotypical geek. In a fight, even I, with my yoga-trained muscles, might have beaten him. Anyway, he would have been hard-pressed to come up with a reason for being away from home all night. “I doubt it. Even if he did come wandering around here for some reason, what would be the chances of him running across us? L.A. is a pretty big place.”
“Yes, it is,” Silas agreed. “But if you’re not comfortable leaving the house, I understand. It was just a thought.”
I looked over at the window again. Something in me yearned for fresh air, for a chance to wander around in a part of town I didn’t know very well. However, I could feel it somewhere deep inside, a little niggling voice that told me, Don’t do it.
“We should probably stay here,” I told him. “But maybe we could get some food delivered for lunch? That would be fun.”
“There are a lot of places down on Hollywood Boulevard and Sunset. I’m sure some of them must deliver to this area.”
“I’ll check Yelp.”
I picked up my phone and started thumbing through the offerings. That was when it binged, indicating that a new text message had come in. At once I abandoned my Yelp search and went to the messages app. Sure enough, there was something from Jackson.
I’m about an hour out from LAX. What’s going on?
I’d rather talk in person, I typed. Are you going straight home from the airport?
Yes. Bethany took the kids to Disneyland, since Addison was feeling better today.
Crappy day for it, I thought. All that rain. But the storm was already clearing out, and a gloomy start to the day meant the amusement park probably wouldn’t be as crowded. And with Bethany and the kids miles and miles away in Anaheim, Jackson would be available for an in-person meeting.
Can you let me know when you’re on your way to Claremont? I responded. Then we’ll head out around the same time and meet you at your house.
“We”? he typed back. Who? It can’t be him, because….
The text trailed off there, but Jackson’s meaning was clear enough. He knew I couldn’t be coming with Lucius because it was still broad daylight, barely noon. A friend, I responded. Just please text again once you’re on your way.
I will. Talk to you soon.
Thanks.
We ended the convo there, since we didn’t have anything else that could be said right then. I closed the app and set my phone on the coffee table. Silas looked at me expectantly. “Well?”
“He’ll be at LAX soon, and he’ll text once he’s on his way home. I assume he’s having a limo take him or something.”
“And his Secret Service protection?”
I’d forgotten all about that. Jackson was still a working U.S. senator, but he was also a candidate for President. He probably had some agents traveling with him, helping to clog up first class.
“I guess so,” I replied. “But when Jackson and I went to meet with him earlier in the week, they didn’t come inside. So I don’t think you need to worry about them overhearing anything we might say.”
“Good.” He lifted an eyebrow at me. “What are you going to tell him?”
“Everything,” I said simply. “I have to. The only way to get him to believe me is to not hold anything back.” I thumbed back over to the Yelp app and scrolled down the results of my search. “So, do you want Thai, or Mexican?”
Silas could tell Serena was anxious, although she did her best to hide it. But he saw, from the way her gaze would shift away from his, or how her fingers were clenched a little too tightly on her fork as she lifted some refried beans to her mouth, that she was not looking forward to this interview with her brother at all. She would have to reverse all the things she had told him just a few days earlier, and it was not in her nature to take back her word.
He loved her for that, but he also knew the upcoming conversation was necessary. No, that was too weak a word. It was imperative. Although he hoped there would be some way to save Serena’s niece, the risks were too great to allow any of this to continue.
The weather had cleared out enough that they were able to open the windows in the dining room, to let a mild, damp breeze enter the house. Silas could see that Serena enjoyed it here, and he wished the house could be something more than merely a way station, a place to take shelter for a day or two. But as soon as this situation with Jackson Quinn — and Lucius Montfort — was resolved, he and Serena would have to find their own resolution. He would be sent back to Humboldt.
The question was, would she come with him?
That she’d had a vision of them together in the future, their child with them, should have reassured him. But she’d also had visions of a future with the master vampire. Which one was real?
There was also a third possibility, that she would reject both of them, and continue her life here in Southern California, alone. He didn’t want to believe that. He had never been with a woman before Serena and so had no basis of comparison, and yet he still couldn’t imagine how someone could be so open with him, so loving, only to walk away from him in the end.
Her phone buzzed, and immediately she set down her fork and picked it up, then tapped in the code to unlock the screen. Her eyes scanned the message she found there. “Jackson says the limo just picked him up. He should be at the Claremont house by two-thirty at the latest.”
Silas glanced past her to the clock of recycled tin that hung on the wall opposite him. “How long will it take us to get there from here?”
Her shoulders lifted, and she reached for her glass of water before replying, “A little over an hour? It’s a bit early for the traffic to start getting really bad, so I think if we’re on the road by one-thirty, we should be okay.”
Which left them approximately twenty minutes to finish their meal and get out the door. They were nearly done, so it shouldn’t be a problem. And neither should traffic, if they did encounter any, since they would be riding the motorcycle and could split lanes if they did hit any congestion.
“That should work.”
Serena nodded, then pressed her lips together, as though wrestling with an unpleasant thought. “I don’t quite know how to explain you, though.”
“What’s to explain? Tell Jackson the truth.”
“And you’re okay with that? I thought the Watchers were all about keeping their identities secret.”
“We are, but in this case, you can’t avoid the truth. It will be easier to convince Jackson of what he needs to do if he understands that the people who have been keeping guard on the vampires for centuries know what a terrible danger this vampire blood — and its resulting serums — might pose.”
His words seemed to reassure her somewhat, because she relaxed against the back of the painted wooden chair where she sat. “I hope so. At least I know that Jackson isn’t the sort to go blabbing to anyone. He won’t betray your secrets.”
Silas wasn’t sure if he could be quite that confident, but he also knew that in this case, discretion was also self-preservation. Trying to tell the world that shape-shifting monsters walked amongst them seemed like a very quick route to being kicked off the campaign trail. He didn’t mention any of that, however, but only said, “I’m sure he won’t.”
She gave him a half-hearted smile and returned to the food on her plate, although he noticed that she only took a few more bites of enchilada before she set down her fork once again. “I think I’m done. I want to go brush my teeth and fix my face before we head out. Is that okay?”
“Of course,” he replied. “I’ll finish mine, and then clear the table. We have time.”
Another smile, and she got up from the table and headed down the hall toward the master suite. Silas ate the rest of his carne asada burrito, then picked up his plate and Serena’s. Rinsing the dishes and putting them in the dishwasher only took a few more minutes, and soon enough he had joined her in the bathroom. Apparently she was done with brushing her teeth, because she had a tube of lipstick in one hand and was scowling at her reflection in the mirror.
“Is something wrong?”
She startled, then shook her head and put the lipstick down on the tiled countertop. “No. I was just thinking that I look like about fifty miles of bad road. All this sleep deprivation is doing nothing for the circles under my eyes.”
Silas looked into the mirror and stared at her reflection for a moment. “I have no idea what you’re talking about. You look beautiful, as always.”
That comment made her chuckle. “If you say so. But thank you.”
He honestly couldn’t see any faults in her lovely face, but he’d heard that women could be odd about such things. Deciding it was probably best to let the matter go, he squeezed some toothpaste onto his toothbrush and took care of scrubbing away all the flavors of burrito and beans and rice. After he was done, he put away the brush and toothpaste, and looked over at Serena once again. She’d been busy with pulling her heavy hair back into a thick ponytail. He liked it loose better, but knew her hair would survive the motorcycle trip better while confined in such a way.
“Ready?” he asked.
She drew in a breath, then nodded. “As I’ll ever be.”
This trip to Claremont couldn’t have been more different from the last one I’d taken. Then it had been dusk, and I’d sat in the back of a Mercedes sedan with a vampire at my side. Now I clung to Silas as he maneuvered the Ducati along the 210 Freeway, and a bright sun shone down from overhead, warm and innocent, as though it had absolutely no recollection of the rain that had fallen only a few hours earlier.
I couldn’t feel the wind blowing in my hair, however, because Silas had produced a helmet when we went out to the garage, and told me I needed to wear it. Although I wondered why he was worried now, when we’d both been helmet-less when he stole me from Lucius’ mansion, I didn’t argue. The last thing I needed was to tumble off the back of the motorcycle and cave my head in.
Because it was so early in the afternoon, the traffic wasn’t too bad yet. Some clogginess where the 134 and the 210 met in western Pasadena, but Silas deftly maneuvered the Ducati between lanes until we were clear from the thicket and then back up to speed. We passed the exit for Allen Avenue, and I felt an odd twinge inside. That was the exit you’d take if you were headed down to my parents’ house in San Marino, but of course we weren’t going that way.
I didn’t know if I’d ever go that way again.
As we got off the freeway in Claremont, I felt my phone buzz in the pocket of the loaner jacket Silas had also given me. Since we’d slowed down to take the turn, I figured it was safe enough to reach in and retrieve the phone. A brief message was displayed on the home screen.
I’m here, it read. Come over when you can.
Since I couldn’t take my left arm away from Silas’ waist to type out a reply, I just tucked the phone back into my pocket. Obviously, Jackson was waiting for us, so an answer wasn’t strictly necessary.
We drove north on Indian Hill, then jogged over on Baseline so we could continue north on Mills Avenue. The houses got larger and more expensive as the elevation climbed, and then we were at the gated complex where Jackson’s home was located.
As we pulled up to the guard shack, I could see the man inside step out into the bright sunlight and squint at us. His expression wasn’t entirely welcoming, and I thought I could guess why. The Ducati was an expensive bike, but it didn’t exactly rate the same kind of respect as Lucius’ S-class. And Silas, who hadn’t been wearing a helmet, looked windblown and rather rough, with his shoulder-length hair and a scruff of beard on his cheeks and chin.
“I’m Serena Quinn,” I told the guard. “I’m here to see my brother Jackson.”
At once the man’s face relaxed. I didn’t recognize him, so he must be new. Clearly he recognized Jackson’s name, though, because he said at once, “Of course, Ms. Quinn. He called ahead to say you were coming. Go on in.”
He went inside and touched the controls for the gate, which began to slide open for us. As soon as there was enough room to squeeze the motorcycle past, Silas started moving forward again.
“Down this street, and then jog to the left. It’ll be the last house on that side, up against the boundary wall.”
“Got it.”
We moved slowly and sedately, but even so I was all too aware of the low grunt of the motorcycle’s engine. This thing felt too damn conspicuous, but there wasn’t much I could do about that. At least it was the middle of the day, and so most of Jackson’s neighbors should be off at work. Or golfing, I added mentally, thinking of my father’s favorite pasttime. Anyway, as long as the neighbors weren’t home, I really didn’t care what they were doing.
The same Secret Service agents who’d been here the night I’d come with Lucius stood in front of the garage. They didn’t move as Silas brought the Ducati to a halt in the section of driveway nearest the path to the house. Maybe they blinked; I couldn’t see behind the dark glasses they wore.
“Hello, Ms. Quinn,” said one of them. “You can go on in.”
“Thank you,” I replied, wishing I’d learned their names. Then my reply wouldn’t have sounded so truncated. Since it was too late to do anything about it now, I gave a mental shrug and pulled off my helmet, then set it on the motorcycle’s seat. Silas had already gotten off the bike, so I gestured for him to follow me.
As we approached the front door, my stomach did its best to knot itself up, not exactly the most appealing sensation when you’ve just had an enchilada plate for lunch. I swallowed and told myself this had to be done. Once we’d explained everything, surely Jackson would understand.
I rang the doorbell, acutely aware of the man who stood next to me. The other thing I just wasn’t sure of was my brother’s reaction to Silas. The last time I’d come here, I’d been with someone entirely different. It wasn’t like me to flip-flop between two men, and I knew my brother would find it strange.
The door opened, and Jackson looked out at the two of us. For just the briefest second, his brows drew together, as though he was trying to figure out who this scruffy-looking stranger might be. Then he seemed to shrug, and said, “Come on in.”
We went inside. It seemed that one of the first things Jackson must have done on his arrival home was to open the windows, because a fresh breeze blew through the house, playing with the filmy curtains.
“Do you mind going outside?” he asked. “Seems a shame to waste a day like this, especially after being cooped up in an airplane for hours.”
“No,” I said, then added hastily, “Oh, and Jackson, this is Silas Drake.”
“Very nice to meet you, Senator,” Silas said, and my brother shook his head.
“Jackson is fine, Silas. So you’re a friend of Serena’s? It seems as though she’s picked up quite a few new friends lately.”
That remark made me frown, and I could tell Silas wasn’t too pleased by it, either. But he didn’t react, only said, “Yes, I’ve been acquainted with Serena for quite a while, although this is the first time I’ve had a chance to meet any of her family.”
Which I supposed was true enough. He had been a part of my life for more than three years now. I just hadn’t known about his existence until a few weeks ago.
But Jackson only said, “Ah,” and led us to an outdoor living set of wicker and glass, placed under a pergola covered in climbing vines. Bougainvillea, already thick with riotous fuchsia blooms. They provided shade from the sun, which now felt almost hot. California weather, almost as fickle as the entertainment industry that made its home here.
My brother had set out acrylic glasses and a couple of bottles of Perrier. He cracked open one of the bottles, then poured sparkling water for everyone. Once he was done, he settled himself on the love seat and shot a quizzical glance at Silas and me. “Serena, do you want to tell me what this is about? Your initial text sounded very urgent.”
I looked over at Silas, who sat on the couch next to me. The corners of his mouth turned up slightly, as if he wanted to give me an encouraging smile but knew it probably wasn’t appropriate to the moment.
“It is urgent,” I said. “I know this is going to sound crazy, but I need you to hear me out.”
“Crazier than bringing a vampire to see me?” he returned, then looked over at Silas. “Obviously, this one isn’t a vampire. Not with that blazing sun overhead.”
“No, I’m not a vampire,” Silas said politely, but he didn’t elaborate.
I reached over and picked up my glass, drank some Perrier. It fizzed at the back of my throat and seemed to do little for the dryness there. After swallowing, I blurted out, “Actually, Lucius Montfort is a very evil man. Erm, vampire. Whatever.”
My brother’s eyebrows lifted again. “Excuse me? I thought you two had a thing.”
“No, I was faking so he wouldn’t kill Silas.”
That remark made Jackson swivel his head toward the man who sat next to me. “Lucius Montfort wanted to kill you?”
“I believe that was his ultimate goal,” Silas replied. “He had me locked up in his wine cellar. Serena pretended to be with him, to go along with plans, in order to save my life.”
Had I ever seen Jackson look so bug-eyed? I didn’t think so. Usually, my brother was the unflappable type. But clearly stories about being locked up in wine cellars were outside his usual range of experience.
“You’re not in the wine cellar now,” he said. “Why aren’t the police dealing with this?”
“The police would not be able to help. But yes, I was able to escape, with some assistance. ”
“So Montfort no longer has any leverage.”
“Sort of,” I broke in. “That is, by the time Silas was free, Lucius and I had already come and talked to you. You’d started the ball rolling on the research project, one that could benefit Addison. It wasn’t like I could just end things.”
“Then why are you here?” My brother sipped some Perrier and set down his glass. “No offense, Serena, but it’s not really like you to drop everything just so you could welcome me home from Washington.”
That was true. My brother and I lived separate lives. We saw each other during the holidays, a few other times during the year when Congress was on vacation. And Jackson hadn’t made the comment with any kind of reproach — he’d only been pointing out an obvious fact. “Well, I didn’t think there would be a problem with you continuing the research that involved Addison’s illness. But….”
“But unfortunately, there’s a very large problem,” Silas put in. He had to have noticed the way I hesitated, and decided he should come to my rescue. “While vampire blood may hold a cure for leukemia and other diseases, it’s too intrinsically dangerous a substance to be investigated.”
For a few seconds, Jackson didn’t respond. He regarded Silas with slightly narrowed eyes as he leaned against the back of the love seat where he sat, his expression almost blank. I noted how my brother’s gaze shifted to me for the barest of seconds before returning to the gula. “Excuse me, but who are you exactly? Why does this concern you?”
“Jackson — ” I began, angry that he would talk to Silas that way, but my lover only touched my arm briefly, letting me know that he would handle this.
“Valid questions, Senator Quinn. I can’t give you all those answers, because I’m not at liberty to do so. Let’s just say that I’m affiliated with an organization that has spent many years tracking vampires, taking note of where they make their lairs, doing our best to ensure that the vampires don’t abuse their powers, or take too many victims. Because of this background, I can tell you with all assurance that vampire blood is a very dangerous compound. If any of it should go missing from your lab — if it should fall into the wrong hands — then the consequences could be disastrous.”
“‘Disastrous’?” my brother repeated, sounding skeptical. “That seems a bit melodramatic. And what exactly is this ‘organization’ you belong to?”
“He can’t tell you that,” I said. “They need to keep their identities secret.”
“Secret identities? Do they wear tinfoil hats, too?”
I opened my mouth to tell him what an asshole remark that was, but Silas forestalled me. He didn’t look particularly offended; in fact, his expression was almost amused, as if he’d expected this kind of pushback. “No tinfoil hats. No chem trails or alien invasions or anything like that. But you know that vampires are real, because you’ve met Lucius Montfort. I assume he did something to prove his supernatural status.”
“Yes,” Jackson said, his face suddenly sober, as if he was recalling how he’d watched Lucius go upstairs and back in what felt like the blink of an eye. “He’s…very fast.”
“That he is,” Silas agreed. “So if you can understand that Mr. Montfort is a vampire, then you can also understand that the blood which flows through his veins is entirely unnatural, and not something to be trifled with. Serena did not fully understand the ramifications of offering up his blood for research. Do you think you’re the first person to be tempted by such a thing? Do you think Lucius Montfort is the first vampire to seek a cure for his own unnatural state? Such ventures have been attempted before, and failed utterly. Vampirism is a contagion, Senator Quinn. It can be held in check now, because we make sure that it doesn’t spread too far, but can you vouch for every single person your project manager has hired? Do you know for a fact that none of them will try to sell this volatile compound on the black market?”
“I don’t know that for a fact,” my brother said, clearly annoyed by the implication that the people at the research facility hadn’t been properly vetted. “But I’m sure Dr. Gutierrez has done her due diligence, and I trust her judgment. Anyway, what precisely are you asking me to do here?”
“You have to stop the research,” I said earnestly.
As Jackson began to frown, Silas added, “And destroy all the samples of vampire blood…and make sure that any tests done on those samples are also destroyed. There can’t be any trace left of the research. Nothing.”
My brother ran a hand through his hair. In that moment, I noticed the dark circles under his eyes, the way the vertical line between his brows appeared more deeply etched than it had been even a few months ago. I wondered how much he’d been sleeping.
At length he said, “You’re asking a lot of me. What about Addie?”
“I know,” I said miserably. “I wanted a way out of this, but….
“But there isn’t,” Silas said. “None of us wish to cause you any hurt, but the harm done to many, many others far outweighs the concerns of a single person.”
“Even if she’s my daughter?” The words came out tight, controlled, but I saw how Jackson’s hands clenched on the knees of his khakis.
“Even then,” Silas replied, his tone sad and quiet.
Jackson was silent for a moment. “And what exactly is this ‘harm done’? Right now all I have is your word to go on. Beg my pardon, Silas, but I don’t know you from Adam.”
“No, you don’t,” he said gravely. “But I love your sister, and want only the best for her and her family, which includes you and your family, Senator Quinn. However, I also know that Serena has seen a very dark future if this research continues — vampires in positions of power, common citizens treated like cattle. And you at the very top, Senator, glad to take their bribes, to allow them to curry favor by selling immortality. Is that really the legacy you want to give your country?”
Again my brother was quiet. Then he looked over at me. “You saw this?”
“Yes.”
“You saw that I was President?”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“And you didn’t say anything?”
The anger in his voice was obvious. I flinched, partly because I hated to be at odds with him, and partly because this wasn’t a Jackson I’d seen before. He usually did a much better job of hiding his emotions. “Well, considering neither you nor anyone else in the family ever seemed to have much interest in my visions, I figured it was better to keep it to myself. Besides, when I first had those visions, I was Lucius Montfort’s prisoner and not in much of a position to talk to you or anyone else.”
That revelation seemed to take him aback. “Wait — you were his prisoner?”
“For a while, yes. Then I managed to convince him that I was attracted to him. I’m sure he thought it was Stockholm syndrome, or maybe just his own vanity.” I shrugged and reached for my glass of Perrier. “Or maybe he convinced himself, simply because I had something he wanted — access to you. Anyway, it doesn’t matter now. Silas broke me out of Montfort prison early this morning, and now I’m a free woman again. But I really do need you to stop the research. It’s too dangerous. Believe me, you don’t want the future I saw to come true.”
My brother’s face had gone poker-still…never a good sign. He got up from the love seat and walked out into the sunshine, and stood at the edge of the pool. It had been built with a fountain at one end that fed into the spa area; the splashing of the water sounded very loud in the stillness.
Silas laid a hand on mine and spoke in a murmur. “Should I go speak with him?”
“No,” I said at once. “He’s processing. The best thing to do now is let him work it through himself. He’s heard what we have to say. If you push him too hard, he’ll just dig his heels in.”
A reluctant nod, and Silas settled back against the couch, a frown pulling at his brows. For myself, I could feel my heart beating nervously as I waited. It was harder to follow my own advice than I’d thought it would be, but I knew I didn’t dare approach my brother. As I’d said, he needed to come to his own decision. Any attempts to cajole him into doing the right thing would only backfire.
At last Jackson turned away from the pool’s edge and walked back to the pergola. He stopped just within its shade and crossed his arms. “No.”
I blinked up at him, my entire body going cold even though it was quite warm out there. “What?”
“I’m not going to do it. I’m not going to stop the only thing that might keep my daughter alive. All you’ve given me is visions and maybes and vague warnings. That’s not good enough.”
Silas stood up, although he didn’t move toward my brother. “The cure for your daughter isn’t a sure thing, either.”
“I know that. But right now it’s the only chance she has. I’m willing to take the risk.”
“A risk that might one day endanger the entire world?”
“I don’t believe that.”
I rose from the couch as well. Silas slipped his hand into mine, his fingers warm and somewhat reassuring. “Jackson, please — ”
“No. I’ve got to stay the course on this one.” His eyes met mine, hard, unflinching. “If you had a child of your own, you’d do the same thing.”
Would I? Right then, I couldn’t think of how to respond, because I didn’t have a child. I could imagine, but I couldn’t know for sure how I might have reacted if I’d been put in the same situation. Voice cold, I said, “I guess I have to hope that having a child wouldn’t blind me to the consequences of my actions.”
A muscle twitched in his cheek. “I think you’d better go.”
I wanted to protest. Problem was, when Jackson looked like that, sounded like that, there wasn’t much you could do, except wait for him to cool off. “All right. But — ” I stopped myself. If I kept arguing, I might say things that it would take a long time for him to forget.
“We’re leaving,” Silas said. “Very nice to meet you, Jackson.”
“Wish I could say it was mutual.”
Holding Silas’ hand, I walked away from my brother. I didn’t bother to say anything else. There was no point. We went through the house, and on out to the driveway, where the two Secret Service agents still stood, apparently keeping watch on the Ducati. Neither Silas nor I spoke. In silence, we got on the motorcycle and drove away.
It wasn’t until we were back on the freeway that I allowed the tears to come.