Several days after someone had tried to break into their home, Jackson sat across the table from Jake at the Mountain Grub Diner, already fatigued at eight in the morning. He and Blaire hadn’t been getting much sleep lately.
She’d only parsed out a few details of what had happened—what Chief Kitroeff had said, what she had said, and not much else. She’d been sneaking out to smoke so much he thought about letting her smoke in the house. But, then he’d have to live with the smell lingering in the house, not just on his girlfriend’s clothes or on her lips when they kissed—which hadn’t been much, lately.
Her eyes were constantly ringed with dark smudges. When he looked in her eyes, a haunted expression gazed back at him.
It broke his heart.
He’d made sure deadbolts were on all the doors and locks were on all the windows, but any good thief knew how to break in despite one’s fortifications—especially if the thief was Karlos Rivera.
Police cruisers constantly patrolled their street, but Jackson didn’t think it calmed Blaire in the least.
She was always on edge, certain that she’d be killed or abducted by Karlos.
He’d been jittery, as well, desperate to find a way to connect with her and keep her safe when he wasn’t running around putting out fires or saving lives except for hers. So far, he was failing at both the connection and protecting her. When Jake called last night and asked him to breakfast, he’d jumped at the distraction. Blaire had assured him that she needed to sleep in.
“So, how is it that you look better than I do?” he said to Jake, wiping his weary face with his palm.
Jake grinned. He appeared clean for a change. His light brown hair had been combed away from his face and fell to his shoulders like a muddy waterfall. His complexion still held a sallow colorlessness, though.
“Big change for the O’Halloran brothers, huh?” Jake said. “We’ve switched positions.”
“I don’t know about that,” Jackson said. “I haven’t started sticking needles in my arm or ‘blow’ up my nose.”
“I know where I can get you some,” his brother said, a look of mirth on his face.
“No, thanks.” Jackson lifted the white ceramic mug before him and drained his coffee. “So, you’re no longer using?”
“I’m clean. It’s been about a month now. I had a slip-up or two, but I hear that’s expected.” He forked a bite of his pancakes and shoved them in his mouth.
“You hear that how? Have you started attending a program?” Jackson picked up the remaining crust of his toast and used it to sop up the egg left on his plate. He popped the toast in his mouth and chewed.
Jake looked left and right. “I’m managing okay.”
Jackson’s eyebrows furrowed together. “Why the secrecy, Jake? Shouldn’t you be proud of getting clean? Jeez. I’m interested because I’m your brother. You’re not talking to a grocery store clerk who doesn’t care about you.”
His lips pursed together. Even though he was supposedly sober, his brother continued to be a pain in the ass.
“Actually, I wanted to wait and tell you the whole story on our camping trip.” The smile on his face made Jake look like a teenager.
Inwardly, Jackson groaned. With so much on the line with Blaire, the last thing he wanted to do was go camping with Jake on some brother bonding expedition. His mind was too weighted with the issues around Karlos.
“We’re still going, aren’t we?” Jake said, frowning.
“We just had this conversation,” Jackson said.
“You’re distracted,” Jake said.
“I’ve got a lot going on.” Jackson pushed away his plate and leaned back in the booth. He glanced out the window at the sunny day.
“Of course, you do,” Jake said, using the tone that always pushed Jackson’s buttons.
“What’s that mean?” Jackson said.
Jake looked away. “It doesn’t mean anything.”
“Yes, Jake, with you, it always means something.” His jaw tightened.
“You know what it means.”
Jackson scanned for the waitress, hoping to get their check. “Enlighten me.”
“I was looking forward to going camping with you. We haven’t done anything together for a long time. You make time for her, but not for me.”
Jackson barely tracked his brother’s complaints. His head spun with thoughts of Blaire. Despite his best efforts to be patient, she hadn’t gotten better. The smoking still continued. She tossed and turned all night. Their sex—when they had it—careened toward quick and unfulfilling like they had to sneak pleasure in the dark of a dingy backroom in some club. Forgetting where he was for a moment, he let his head hang.
“Wow, bro. You look like you could use the vacation.”
Jake’s words shook him out of his misery.
He let out a long sigh. “Yeah. I suppose I could.”
“And did you even hear me?”
“About what?”
“About me wanting to get away together,” Jake said. “I want to share some stuff with you. Tell you about the changes I’ve made.”
Jackson directed a pointed gaze at him. “I’m sitting right here. Tell me now.”
“You’re a million miles away.” Jake flicked his fingers. “I’ve got something huge to tell you.”
Does it involve a gang, abuse, and tragedy? Are you going to transform into some unrecognizable brother? Jackson stared at Jake until Jake looked away.
“Does it have anything to do with the ‘will you bail me out of jail’ comment the other day?”
“What? No. Forget it,” Jake said, his scowl deepening. “You’re right. It’s stupid to think we can get back to how we used to be.”
“Is that what this is about?” Jackson’s eyebrows rose. “I’m sorry. I’ve got a lot on my shoulders.”
He glanced around again for the waitress. He finally spied her flirting with some guy across the room. Shaking his head, he turned back to Jake.
“Which is the perfect reason to get away for a few days,” Jake said, his grin returning.
Maybe it would be good to get away from all this madness. Jackson drummed his fingers on the table. “Tell you what. I’ll see if I can switch my shift around and pull a forty-eight. That would give me three days off in a row. We can do it in…oh, maybe two weeks. I’ll have to talk with Blaire, but I think the vacation could do her good.”
“Oh?” Jake twirled the salt shaker between his hands. He regarded Jackson through one eye. “What’s going on with her?”
“It’s private.”
“Who’s being secretive now?”
“Drop it, Jake. It’s her business. Now do you want to move up the camping trip, or what?” Jackson fished in his pocket for a few bills. He tossed them on the table and slid to the edge of the booth to rise.
“Sure, sure,” Jake said, scooting out of his seat. “That would be great.”
Great? Not sure about that. But maybe getting away would do Blaire and I some good.
Twenty minutes later, after a quick stop to the pet store to pick up some food for the dogs, Jackson pulled his truck into his driveway. After exiting the cab, he reached into the bed of the truck to retrieve the twenty-five-pound bag of food.
The annoying smell of tobacco wafted into his nose. He sighed and tromped toward the back gate with the dog food bag on his shoulder.
Midget and Maxine whined and barked from the other side of the fence.
He unlatched the gate and entered the back yard.
The dogs greeted him in their usual tail wagging, nose sniffing manner.
Blaire sat at the patio table, a scowl on her face. She pulled her purse from the table and dropped it by her side.
Even though the sun beat hot and heavy, she wore her black hoodie and those slouchy black pants she’d showed up at the house in on Meet the New Blaire day. Bright orange flip-flops adorned her feet, offering a glimpse of color.
“Hey,” he said, striding toward her. He dropped the food bag on the deck and leaned over to kiss her cheek. Her hair and skin smelled like cigarettes.
“Hey,” she said, barely inclining her face toward him. “I’m sorry.”
“For what?” he said, pulling a chair closer to sit next to her.
She pointed to a cigarette butt on the ground next to her. “I didn’t think you’d be home so soon.”
The pack of smokes seemed to glare at him from her open purse.
His jaw worked back and forth, but he didn’t say anything.
“How was breakfast?” she said.
“It was good,” he said. “He’s not using anymore. He’s clean.”
She quirked an eyebrow. “That’s good, I suppose.”
“Do you really have to smoke?” he said, instantly regretting his words.
Her chin jutted out. “Do you really have to be an asshole? Yes, I seem to have to.”
“But why? You told me you never smoked until you went to Venezuela and Karlos forced it upon you,” he said. “I’m not Karlos. I’m not forcing you to do anything. It’s like you’ve willingly transported yourself right back to the tough girl who was fighting to survive in Caracas.”
He looked toward the dogs. They were play-fighting with growls, yips, and muzzle bites a few yards away.
He and Blaire were about to really fight, and he knew it. He could sense it coming like an approaching thunderstorm.
Blaire stared at her fingernails.
“Blaire, honey, I’m dying over here.”
Her head jerked up, and her eyes met his.
He stared into violet pools of misery. She’d stopped wearing the blue contacts, saying they irritated her, but her eyes looked endlessly sad.
“Every time you come back to the house after you’ve gone wherever you go to smoke, my mind does two things. First, the medic in me pictures the damage you’re doing to your lungs. I can’t help but think that. I love you too much to want to watch you damage yourself. But my heart breaks even more because you seem to rely on smoking to give you some sense of control.”
She inhaled sharply through her nose.
“You’re so much stronger than you give yourself credit for.”
She looked toward her garden. “I don’t feel strong. Kitroeff told me that Karlos and his gang looked for marks like me. Women who seemed stupid and naive.”
Jackson’s brow furrowed. “He said that? Stupid and naive?”
She wrapped her arms around her midsection. “No, he used the words weak and gullible. Same thing.”
She shrugged one shoulder.
Ouch. He moved his chair away from the table, and then reached over and tugged her chair around, so she faced him.
Her hands fell to her lap.
He reached for them and held them, letting both their hands rest on her thighs. “You never told me that. You told me about the guy leaping in his car and driving off and how the conversation with the police chief went. I’m sure hearing about weak and gullible women made you feel like shit. I can’t help you if you don’t let me in, Blaire.”
She refused to meet his gaze. “That seems to be a theme with me—not letting people in.”
“That’s not true. You let me in. You let me see you. I sure didn’t fall in love with my own shadow.” His breath caught in his throat.
“And then look what happened…” A sharp laugh left her throat. “I didn’t show you the real me until a few weeks ago when I shared my story of Karlos. And now look at us. A lot of good sharing has done us.” She yanked her hands away.
He sat back in his chair. A flash of anger lit his insides. “I came around after you told me, and you know it. And you accepted me and my past. That’s not what caused the rift between us.”
“Oh?” She finally directed her gaze at his. Her hands clenched into fists. “What caused the rift, then? Wait—you don’t need to say it. I caused it. Me and my fucked-up behavior. My attempts to be strong. You want weak little Blaire. Blaire who doesn’t make waves and who wears sweet little pink dresses and styles rich girl’s hair to atone for her past.”
Jackson’s jaw dropped. Anger-laced words gathered in his mouth like thunderclouds.
“That’s what you think?” His arms flew wide.
The dogs stopped their play, staring at him.
“That’s not who I fell in love with. I don’t want weak little Blaire. I never saw you as weak. You think that’s what I want? A woman I can dominate or push around? When did I ever give you that impression?” He leaned toward her, his body wound so tight he thought he might explode. “All I did was love you, Blaire. That’s it. I loved you, and I thought I treated you right. And, yes, you did let me in before Share Gate.”
He could kick himself for blurting that phrase. Stupid, stupid, stupid.
“Share Gate? That’s what you call it?” She barked out a laugh.
His face reddened. “It’s not a bad phrase. It’s just that…” I don’t know what it is. I shouldn’t have said anything.
“I didn’t show you the ‘real me’ before ‘Share Gate,’” she said, making quote marks in the air.
“You think this is the real you? This defensive, armored woman?” He pointed at her. “You want to know when the rift started? Huh? You want to know when that happened?”
She crossed her arms over her chest. “Tell me, oh, wise one.”
Her cheeks grew pink and mottled.
He stabbed the air in front of her. “The rift happened when you drove home with a fortified wall in place. Sure, the new look was a shock, but I figured I could deal with it. You’d look good with a shaved head, you’re so beautiful.”
A flash of softness crossed her face and quickly disappeared.
He went on. “The sudden interest in smoking was a stunner. I’ve tried to be okay with it, hoping you’ll stop soon. But that wall you erected…”
He shook his head and lowered his hand.
Her eyes moistened with tears.
“That wall…,” he said again. “It’s too big. I can’t climb it or move around it. I can’t find you, Blaire. Not the Blaire I fell in love with.”
“The weak Blaire, you mean.”
“No, not the weak Blaire. I never met her. It didn’t take weakness to escape from Venezuela. That took an act of courage.”
Her chin quivered.
He let out a deep sigh. “Baby, I don’t know how to fix us. I want you to rely on me, lean on me while we’re going through this. I’m strong. I’m capable. I fight fires. I save lives, but I can’t save yours, and it’s breaking my heart.”
A single tear slid down her cheek.
“When I was at breakfast…Jake talked about the camping trip. I thought about it and thought it might be a good idea to get away for a few days. I told him I could see about moving the trip up sooner...”
Her lips pressed into a rigid line. She uncrossed her arms and gripped the arms of the chair, instead. “So this is your preamble before telling me we’re going camping with your brother? Another one of your singular decisions that don’t include my input?”
He held up his hand, palm toward her. It seemed to weigh a ton. “Stop. You didn’t let me finish. I was going to say I could move the trip up sooner if you agreed to it. I was going to ask you how you felt about it…about getting away. Now I don’t care. I can tell Jake, no.” His heart ached. He stood and crossed his arms over his chest. “I don’t know what you want, or how to reach you, or how to fix this, or…” His voice cracked. “Goddamn it, Blaire, I miss you. I’m dying over here.”
He lifted his hand and wiped his eyes with his thumb and forefinger.
Love sucks. Love rips you apart. Love leaves you laying broken and bleeding by the side of the road.
He stooped and picked up the dog food.
“Where are you going?” she said, bolting to her feet.
“Where does it look like I’m going?” he snapped. “I’m going to put the dog food away.”
He took a couple of steps, but she hurried toward him and grabbed his arm.
“We’re not finished with our argument,” she said.
“Want to bet?” He whirled around, and the bag slipped from his grip. It fell to the edge of the deck and split open, spilling kibble onto the lawn. “Fuck.”
“I’m sorry,” she said.
Maxine and Midget romped toward the bag and began chowing down.
He lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, pointing toward the kennel. “Go.”
Midget hung her head and slunk toward it.
Maxine kept gobbling dog food.
“You, too, girl,” Jackson said, gently tugging her collar. “I know, I know, treats have appeared in the grass like manna from heaven. But, we have to watch your weight, remember? We talked about this.” He smiled at Maxine as he urged her toward the enclosure. “Go on, girl. It’s only for a few minutes.”
Reluctantly, she made the dog walk of shame toward the kennel.
Jackson followed and closed and latched the kennel door. “It’s just for a few minutes until we get things cleaned up.”
Maxine looked up at him with soulful eyes and whined.
“I know,” he said. “I feel the same way.”
When he turned, Blaire had already begun to clear the kibble, picking it out of the dirt and dropping it into a pile on the deck.
He made his way out the yard and strode around the front of the house to the tool shed. After retrieving the key hanging at the back of the shed, he unlocked the door and retrieved the green wheelbarrow and the flat blade shovel. I’ve got to tear down that fence and rebuild it on the other side of the shed, so Blaire doesn’t have to go all the way around the house to retrieve her garden tools.
He placed the shovel in the bed of the wheelbarrow. Gripping the yellow handlebars, he pushed it around the house and into the back yard.
Blaire continued to pick up kibble.
He pushed the wheelbarrow next to her. Slowly, he turned the bag over, trying not to empty the entire bag. He carefully lifted the split bag and placed it in the wheelbarrow. “I think I can save some of this. Don’t worry about the kibble in the dirt.”
“We don’t want them to eat dirt and earthworm flavored kibble,” she said, adding a slight smile. “I’ve heard it’s bad for doggy digestion.”
It was the first somewhat humorous thing she’d said in weeks.
“We wouldn’t want that,” he said. “That’s why I brought the shovel. We’ll just pitch it into the garbage can.” He placed his hands on his hips. “When I unlocked the shed, I made a reminder to either move the shed or move the fence to enclose it. I’ve meant to do that for as long as I’ve owned the house. You shouldn’t have to go all the way around the house to fetch garden tools.”
“That would be greatly appreciated. I’d like that,” she said. She pushed to stand and brushed off her hands. “Jackson.”
“What?” He looked at her, mentally readying himself for whatever came next.
“While the idea of hanging with your brother is not particularly appealing to me, you’re right. The thought of getting away from all this madness for a few days does sound wonderful. Being in the woods sounds fantastic.”
His hands dropped to his sides. “You mean that?”
“Yes, I mean it. But only if Jake’s tent is far away from ours.” A genuine smile crossed her face.
“We can make that happen. We can definitely arrange that.”
“I’ll leave the cigarettes at home, too. Cigarettes can cause forest fires, you know.” She scrunched up her face. “I sure don’t want more destruction on my hands.”
He swallowed, not believing his ears.
“Matter of fact,” she said, stepping onto the deck. She bent over, fished the smokes from her purse, walked back, and dropped them on the pile of dirty kibble. “I’ve decided to quit. I’d rather lean on you than something that damages my lungs.”
His heart soared.
“Oh, baby,” he said, closing the distance between them. He wrapped her in his arms and squeezed her tight.
“I’ve missed you so much, Jackson. I’m sorry I’ve been so walled off,” she said into his neck.
He eased back and started to lower his mouth to hers.
She turned her face away. “No. I don’t taste good.”
“I don’t care what you taste like right now, Blaire. I only care that this”—he waggled his finger between their two hearts—“is functional again. These two hearts need to be one.”
He lowered his mouth and kissed her, deeply and passionately.
They’d done it. They’d found their way back to good.
The only thing left was to hear what big news his brother had to share and find a way to keep her safe from Karlos Rivera.