Leonora hadn’t heard from Josh all day.
It wasn’t that unusual—maybe he’d ridden to a place with no reception, or maybe he’d just been too busy to text her—but after last night… Well, after last night, it was unusual that he wouldn’t say something.
He’d said he’d call her. They had things to work out. He wouldn’t leave her hanging.
It had rubbed at her all day, his lack of communication, like a clothes tag that wouldn’t stop scratching. Had something happened?
She didn’t think anyone had found out where she’d slept. When she’d come in that morning, Jasmine had been fast asleep. And when her sister had finally woken up, she’d given no hint that she suspected anything—she’d only asked how Leonora had enjoyed her night out.
When she’d seen Sasha at work, Sasha hadn’t said anything either.
So the only hint that anything had gone wrong was Josh’s silence, and that wasn’t enough to get worked up over. If they were going to keep doing this, meeting in secret—and after last night, she most certainly wanted to—she’d have to get used to this kind of anxiety. She’d have to learn how to keep it hidden so they weren’t caught.
But for today, she wasn’t practiced at it yet, so when Jasmine drove them home that night, Leonora was ready to jump out of her skin.
“You have a headache?” Jasmine asked as she pulled into the apartment complex.
“No. Why?” Way too shrill, but she was nervous and pissed that Jasmine had to sound so worried.
“You seem tense. Jumpy. I can fix you something, and you can lie down if you want.”
Leonora shook her head. “I have to work on this project for the library. And I don’t have a headache.”
“All right.” Jasmine frowned as she parked the car in their spot. “What is Jackson doing here?”
Jackson was waiting at their front door, his expression carved from unyielding stone. A chill passed over Leonora, her anxiety crystallizing into true panic.
Maybe it was only a coincidence. Maybe Jackson hadn’t found out what she’d done.
But when she saw that Luke was with him, she knew the jig was up.
A strange calm settled over her. She didn’t want to do it like this, but she was also relieved to finally get the confrontation over with. Maybe, just maybe, they’d actually listen to her this time.
“Leonora,” Jasmine said slowly. “What’s going on?”
“You know exactly what’s happened.” She threw open her door, never looking away from Jackson.
“No, I don’t,” Jasmine said, but Leonora ignored her. She was going to set the tone of this if she could. And meet Jackson head-on.
As she approached the door, her brother didn’t even bother with a greeting. “We know what happened.”
She pulled her keys from her purse, her fingers trembling. But her voice was steady as she said, “Are we really gonna do this out here?”
Jackson stepped aside to let her open the door.
The apartment was dark and empty. She dropped her purse onto the coffee table, the contents jangling heavily. She wanted to drop herself onto the couch just as hard—she was suddenly so, so tired, and a headache was building in her temples—but she also wanted to have this out. No shrinking, no shying away. Not anymore.
The door shut with a quiet click, and there were the three of them—Jackson, Jasmine, and Luke—all staring her down.
Leonora gestured toward Luke. “What’s he doing here?”
“We know what happened,” Jackson said again.
Luke said nothing, just wore an expression of mingled distaste and embarrassment.
These two didn’t know shit. “Really?” she said, letting insolence turn her vowels long and languid. “So he came to tattle on us?”
How had Luke found out though? And what had he found out? Were they all bluffing here?
“Oh no.” Jasmine put a hand to her heart, exactly the same way their mother did. “Don’t tell me you met that boy. After what he did to you…”
That boy. As if he hadn’t been an integral part of her life for so many years. “I did. And you all know I did. I went willingly, so don’t give me any crap about what he did to me.” She turned to Luke. “How did you find out? He wouldn’t have just told you.”
“Josh told Benedict everything.” Luke’s voice was rough. Almost halting.
There was a hot, sharp sensation in her chest—betrayal. But she wrestled it back with logic. Josh wouldn’t have said anything without a compelling reason. He hadn’t betrayed her; he’d been pushed into it.
She crossed her arms and stared down her brother. “So what? Now you’re going to beat the crap out of him? All to defend my honor?”
Jackson’s face darkened. “He was warned.”
She laughed without humor. “Did you bother to ask me? Do any of you bother to ask me anything?”
She just barely kept that from becoming a scream. Raising her voice wouldn’t make them hear her. They certainly hadn’t the countless other times she’d tried to assert herself, only to be ignored.
“We only want what’s best for you.” That was from Jasmine, and it made Leonora bite back a fierce rage.
Luke shuffled his feet, clearly wanting to be somewhere else. Too bad for him, the little tattler. He cleared his throat. “I convinced Jackson to leave Josh alone. For now.”
Leonora ignored that. “No,” she said to her sister, “you take any and all choices away from me and insist that’s the best. I believed you all these years that I was too reckless, too angry, too broken to care for myself.” She took a breath. “But I’m not.”
She’d proved it again and again… and they never believed her. She tried to push back the rage, just like she would have before, back when she thought it was pathology, but it wouldn’t be stopped. It came like a lava flow, thick, incinerating, and unceasing.
“Leonora, you don’t know what you’re saying.” God, the way Jackson said that made her want to pop him one. “Just calm down—”
“I am calm,” she screamed.
The curve of Jackson’s mouth went smug. “You’re not.” He lifted his hands. “Take a breath, and we’ll discuss this when you feel better.”
“That’s right.” Jasmine set a hand on her arm. “Go lie down, and when you’re rational, we’ll discuss this.”
Leonora shook off her touch. “I feel fine.” She didn’t—her skull felt like it might split in two—but they didn’t get to tell her how she felt. Not anymore. “You should leave.”
She meant all of them, even Jasmine, so she could be alone to work through these overwhelming emotions. She didn’t need them always telling her how to feel. She could figure it out on her own.
Luke coughed into his hand. “I’ll go then. Sorry to have upset you.”
“You go with him,” she ordered her brother, pointing hard at the door.
“No.” Jackson sat down on the couch. “I’m gonna wait until you’re ready to admit you were wrong. And tell me that you won’t do it again.”
She had to explain herself to him? Grovel to him? “Get out,” she growled.
“This isn’t your place,” he reminded her. He looked to Jasmine, who nodded her approval.
“Fine.” Leonora grabbed her purse. “If you won’t go, I will.”
They wouldn’t listen when she spoke, not when she shouted—maybe they’d finally listen if she left.
Jackson snapped to his feet. “Where are you going?”
She ignored him and pinned Luke with a glare. “Where is he? I know Benedict kicked him out as soon as he heard.”
Luke waffled. “I don’t know… You can’t go to him.”
“The hell I can’t.”
“You can’t just waltz up to the place—”
As soon as he said that, she knew where Josh had gone. “Hank’s not going to shoot me,” she said. “Not if Josh is there.”
“Hank!” Jasmine cried. “He’s crazy. You can’t go all the way out there.”
“How are you going to get there?” Jackson demanded of her back. “You can’t drive, and it’s too far to walk.” Clearly he thought her trapped.
“I’ll figure it out. My brain’s not that broken. And if Hank’s crazy, then so am I, I suppose.”
“Leonora!”
An order from Jackson, one that had her back stiffening with rebellion.
“You follow me,” she said, “and I’ll call the sheriff. I swear it.”
Finally, finally, she had their attention. Too bad it was too late.
“What will we tell Mama and Daddy?” Jasmine asked. “This will kill them.”
“I know a little something about things that could kill you,” Leonora said. “This won’t do it.”
“You… you never used to be like this,” Jackson said. Defeat and disbelief rasped through the words.
If she needed further proof they’d never understood, he’d just given it to her. “But I was. I think I always was. Even when you told me I wasn’t.”
She took in the scene before her—Jackson shocked, angry, Jasmine also shocked but horrified too, and Luke looking as if their heartbreak was his own.
They were all against them, just like they’d used to be. Only this time she and Josh hadn’t done anything wrong.
Without another word, she grabbed her purse, pushed past them, and left to go find him.
Hank was clearly not happy to find Josh on his doorstep.
When Josh had knocked, he’d opened the door at least but only a crack. “I know I told you to visit anytime,” Hank said through the opening, “but today is not a good day.”
Awesome. Of all the days for Hank to be unavailable to visitors… But it wasn’t Hank’s fault.
“Can I at least sit on the porch until it is?” Josh sighed. “Normally I’d take myself off, but I don’t have anywhere else to go.” And his legs hurt, and he was carrying all his stuff in a duffel bag. All of him felt battered.
The one eye peering through the wedge blinked at Josh. “Shit. Shit.” The door swung open although Hank wouldn’t look at him. “Come in then. I’m…”
Josh waited on the porch. “We don’t have to talk. Or interact. Or I can stay here on the porch. Really, it’s okay.”
Hank shook out his hands. “No, just… give me a minute.”
“Take all the time you need.”
The door shut again. Was Hank going to reopen it? Well, if not, the nights weren’t too cold and the barn was still mostly standing. Sleeping there wouldn’t be so bad.
But Hank surprised him by opening the door about a minute later. And he really surprised him by looking Josh in the eye.
“I’m okay now. Come in.”
Josh crossed the threshold slowly, giving Hank the time to change his mind. But Hank simply shut the door behind him and gestured Josh through to the kitchen.
When he got there, he said to Josh, “Take a seat.” He himself rummaged through the cabinets. “Mind if I have a drink? It’ll help.”
Josh froze. He’d been around alcohol since getting out—there had been booze at the wedding and the christening—but he hadn’t been tempted. But here, in the intimacy of the old kitchen, just him and Hank…
One won’t hurt. And you’ve had a hell of a day.
His throat burned as he swallowed hard. “I’d better not.”
Come on. Hank’s having one. And he’s way more fucked up than you. If he can handle it, you can.
The thoughts slid across his tongue, craving following in their wake. His fingers twitched on the table, imagining the cool weight of the glass resting in them.
“Suit yourself,” Hank said and poured a healthy measure of tequila into a glass. It was a fine añejo, straight from Jalisco.
Josh’s mouth watered.
Hank took a sip and made a low noise of appreciation.
Josh swallowed hard again and looked away. He could do this.
“So what happened?”
He looked up. “What?”
Hank gestured with the glass, and the scent hit Josh’s nose. “Why’d you get kicked out? What happened?”
“Oh.” He drummed his fingers on the table and tried to ignore the smell of alcohol permeating the room. “I wasn’t supposed to be seeing Leonora. But then Benedict found out I was and…” He spread his fingers, stretching them as wide as he could, skin and joints straining. “And now I’m out of a job and a place to stay.”
“Shit. I won’t ask if she was worth it. It’s clear from your face she was.”
Funny that Hank could see right away how much Leonora meant to Josh just from his expression, and Benedict wasn’t convinced even when Josh spelled it out.
No, not funny—sad.
“You ever been in love?”
Hank snorted and shook his head. “Nah.” He brought the glass to his mouth, and Josh’s gaze locked on it. “And who’d put up with me now?” He gestured with the glass at everything around them, the liquid swirling and sending vapors rising.
“Is it really so bad?” Because yes, Hank was a loner and didn’t deal with company well… but he’d invited Josh right in when he’d shown up. And he’d understood immediately about Leonora.
Hank’s gaze went dark, fathomless. “Yeah.” He took a long pull on his drink, his throat working. “Yeah.”
As the silence stretched in the wake of that, Josh studied his hands on the table, still spread wide. “Could, uh…” He curled his fingers into his palm, pressed his knuckles hard against the table. “Could you pour me some of that?”
Hank was staring at him, Josh could feel it, but he didn’t look up.
“Sure thing,” Hank said in a low voice. There was the scrape of his chair against the floor, the clink of a glass hitting the counter and the pop of the bottle opening. And then the bright splash of tequila against the glass.
Josh was vibrating now, in his hands, his arms, even his heart.
Hank set the glass before him lightly. Without even a sound.
Josh wrapped his fingers around the glass, the tequila a gorgeous shade of topaz and the glass cold beneath his palms. He held himself there.
If he didn’t take a sip, he wouldn’t have done anything. He didn’t have to take a sip. He could just hold the glass, get the smell of it in his brain. That might be enough. And if he held the glass and then pushed it aside, he’d prove… something.
To distract himself and conceal the fact that he’d asked for the tequila but wasn’t drinking it, he asked, “What do you do up here without a TV or radio or any of it?”
Josh hadn’t even seen any books so far, unless Hank kept them in his bedroom. But he didn’t remember Hank as being a big reader.
“I do a lot of thinking.” Hank shrugged, but the effort was strained.
That sounded heavy. Was this what Josh was going to be reduced to? A jobless good-for-nothing, hanging out with his hermit cousin and thinking too much? Hank, of course, wasn’t good-for-nothing—he kept up the house—but Josh certainly felt like it right now.
He studied the liquid in his glass. It looked so innocuous, such a lovely crystalline shade of amber.
Plenty of people drank, and nothing harmful came from it. And even if Josh did get drunk, who could he hurt here? He wasn’t going to climb into Hank’s truck. He might puke the next morning, but who cared if that happened?
Josh raised the glass to his mouth, set the edge against his lips. It was cool, but the scent of the liquor was warm and welcoming. And oh so familiar. He could already imagine how it would feel as it slipped across his tongue, as it buzzed with pleasure through his veins.
Fuck it. One drink wouldn’t hurt. He deserved it.
He tipped the glass back, the tequila wetting his lips, and closed his eyes. One drink. One wouldn’t harm anything. He parted his lips a hair, and a slip of liquid filled the space there.
There was a knock at the door.
His heart kicked into high gear as he set the glass down and pushed it away. Was he relieved or disappointed he hadn’t done it? He had no clue, which scared him.
The knock came again. Josh met Hank’s gaze, which was wary and a touch angry.
“Who the fuck is that?” Hank asked, his knuckles white as they gripped his glass.
“I don’t know. Nobody should know I’m here.”
“But they know you had nowhere else to go. So they might guess you came here.”
Benedict wasn’t dumb—he might have figured it out by process of elimination. Or else Luke had. Probably it was Luke since Benedict was unlikely to come running after Josh. Especially after their last conversation.
“It’s probably Luke.” Josh pushed away from the table. “I’ll go see who it is and run them off.”
“Thanks. You, I can handle. Anybody else…” Hank shook his head and took another drink.
“Even Luke?”
“He smiles too much.” Hank grimaced, and Josh had to laugh.
“Well, let’s hope it is Luke. He’ll leave if I tell him to, but Benedict doesn’t listen to a damn thing I say.”
Josh made his way to the door, expecting that he’d find Luke out there, come to check on him. Josh could pull him out on the porch, explain that he was fine, and send his brother on his way.
He pulled open the door, saying, “Look, Luke, I know—”
He stopped dead when he saw who it was instead.
“Hey,” Leonora said. “I figured I’d find you here.”