Rescuing Broken: The Kane Brothers

by Gina Azzi

  "At least I tried!" I yell back, slapping an open palm against my chest. Evie's head snaps up, her eyes slamming into me, mixing with memories I hate that I can't forget. "You didn't even show up. What the hell happened to West Point, Evie?"

  Her mouth falls open, and her eyes cloud over.

  Instantly, I feel like a huge dick. I swore I wouldn't put her on the spot like this. I promised her I'd be here for when she was ready to confide in me. Instead, I pushed too hard, and now she's retreating, building up the walls I've been slowly knocking down.

  "Fuck." I scrub my hand over my face and turn around, escaping into the living room, so I don't have to see the hurt overwhelm her. Hurt that I put there after swearing to myself I'd never do that to her again. "Goddamn it."

  The kitchen door swings closed behind me.

  "Give her some space." Carter's voice is controlled from where he sits on the couch, the remote control clutched in his hand. Yet, I detect a warning wrapped around his words. This is bullshit.

  "What do you know that I don't?"

  Denver appears on the stairs, his gaze darting between Carter and I. "When'd you get home?" he asks Carter as if it's not completely obvious that I'm trying to get into it with him.

  "Denver?" Evie's voice is small behind me, and guilt expands in my chest.

  "You okay, Evie?" Carter asks, turning his head to peer around my frame.

  She must nod because my brother turns his head to give me one hell of a dirty look.

  "Want a lift home?" Denver offers.

  Jesus. Are my brothers kidding me right now? "I'll take her."

  "A ride would be great. Thanks, Denver." Evie's voice breaks.

  I spin to face her. "Evie, wait." My hand is outstretched, about to clasp her forearm, when she backs away as if I hurt her.

  "I'll talk to you later, Jax." She mumbles quietly, walking to the front door.

  Denver waits for her to walk out in front of him before he turns and gives me a look I can't decipher. "Don't break anything," he warns Carter and I before pulling the door closed behind him.

  My breathing is erratic as I turn toward Carter who sits on the couch as if he doesn't have a care in the world, and the most important thing on his mind is deciding between an NBA and college basketball game.

  "What the fuck, Carter?"

  "You're coming on too strong. You're going to scare her off."

  "You think that's what this is about? That I'm pursuing her too hard?" My left hand squeezes the back of my neck as I pace in front of the TV. "Something happened."

  Carter quirks an eyebrow at me. "Yeah? What happened?" He's so infuriatingly calm I feel my blood pressure spike in response.

  "I don't know. Denver made a joke, and Evie, she, shut down. Her whole face changing like she was scared or something. I know you know. So just tell me because y'all are driving me crazy. What the hell is going on?"

  Carter closes his eyes and tosses his back against the couch cushions. "Just give her some space."

  "We were finally moving forward. Things seemed to be clicking between us. I could see her opening up to me, to thinking about a future with me. And then, I have no clue what the hell that was about." I point to the empty kitchen. "She wants me to re-up. How much more time am I supposed to waste?"

  His eyes fly open at this. "Why the hell would she want you to re-enlist?"

  "Hell if I know. It seems I'm in the dark about everything these days," I snap, moving past him to pull on a pair of sneakers by the front door. "I'm going for a run before I run my fist through your face."

  He laughs, easy and unaffected. "I'd like to see you try."

  "We're not kids anymore, Carter. I'm stronger than you now."

  "Yeah, but you're still ticklish."

  I snort. "Fuck off."

  "Wear something bright so you don't get hit by a car. It's dusk," he reminds me like we're still kids, and I'm pissed about baseball cards or something trivial.

  I pull the front door open and head outside, biting back a reply. My brothers may piss me off sometimes, but they're still my brothers. And deep down, I know they'll always have my back. Even with Evie. Even now.

  22

  Evie

  "You okay?" Denver's low voice cuts through my thoughts as I buckle my seatbelt.

  I look over at him, but he doesn't turn toward me. "Yeah."

  "Sure?" He twists to look at me this time, as if to make sure I'm telling the truth.

  I nod.

  Denver blows out a breath as he starts the ignition and backs out of his driveway, pointing the SUV in the direction of my townhouse. "Still on Silversmith Road?"

  "Yes."

  We sit in silence for several moments and for some reason, it's comfortable. That's the funny thing. Out of all the Kane brothers, Denver was always the one getting into the most trouble. He was the wild card, the one with all the girls that caused scandals, the one with the rap sheet. He was never charming like Carter or sweet like Jax. He never openly went out of his way for anyone. Most people were so intimidated by him that they didn’t dare look him in the eyes directly, drawing a wide circle to stay out of his path.

  But Denver always made me feel secure. His watchful eyes catch everything. He's perceptive and picks up on the undercurrents of passing looks and words. Denver never pushes but somehow always guides. He's always managed to be present for me in a way that didn't require his physical presence.

  "He's still in love with you," he says, breaking the silence.

  I twist in my seat, pulling one leg up and tucking it underneath me.

  "Because he doesn't know better. He still thinks of me as Evie from way back when. If he knew the truth, he wouldn't have the same feelings. He couldn't."

  Denver’s gaze darts toward me before settling back on the road. He stops at a red light. "That really what you think?"

  "Yes."

  "Come on, Evie. You know Jax better than that."

  "I don't know Jax at all anymore," I say quietly, the argument we had still fresh in my mind. "He's not re-upping."

  "You want him to go back to war, so you don't have to tell him the truth?" A tinge of sarcasm colors his tone, but I don't comment on it.

  "The Jax I knew would never start something without finishing it."

  "What makes you think he isn't finishing something else he started?"

  I glare at Denver as his words sink in. "Am I supposed to be the thing he started?"

  Denver chuckles, rolling his lower lip between his teeth. His fingers tap out a quiet beat on the steering wheel. "I forgot how sharp you can be when you let your guard down."

  I roll my eyes, turning away and facing forward again.

  "He's still in love with you, Evie. He's not going anywhere this time. So you can either be straight with him, let him back in, and see where this thing between y’all goes, or you can shoot him down and keep moving on with your life."

  I remain silent.

  "But you can't keep doing this. Drawing him in and then pushing him away."

  I turn to face Denver, my head swinging, "I didn't pursue him."

  "I know. But you wanted him to pursue you. If you didn't, you would have shut it down before it ever got to this point. I've seen you the last seven years. Didn't ever hear of you going out on more than one or two dates.”

  I clench my fingers into fists, my nails digging into my skin. He's right. I didn't let anyone else pursue me. Not really. I had one date playing mini-golf and another one that ended with me nearly hitting the guy. After that, I never let another man get close enough. Except for Jax. If I didn't want his attention, I would have made sure he knew it.

  "Tell him the truth, Evie. He's going to find out eventually, and I promise it'll be better coming from you."

  Tears prick the backs of my eyes, and I squeeze them shut, knowing that Denver is right. And hating it anyway.

  "Am I causing problems between you guys? You know, with you and Carter lying for me?"

  "Nah." Denver turns onto
my street. "You could never cause problems, little girl. We all like you too much." He cuts me a small smile as he pulls into the parking lot of my townhouse.

  "Thanks for the ride, Den."

  "Think about what I said. Let me know if you need anything."

  "I will." I unclick the seatbelt. My hand is on the lever to open the door when Denver's voice stops me.

  "I mean it. Whatever happens between you and my brother," he pauses, a sigh escaping his lips, "you need anything, ever, you call me. Okay?"

  "Okay."

  "Take it easy."

  I open the door and hop down from his SUV. Closing the door behind me, I offer Denver a little wave before making my way to the front door and unlocking it.

  Stepping into my townhouse, I close the door and lock up. It isn't until I'm safely inside that the headlights from Denver's SUV swing away, and he pulls out of my complex.

  I drop my keys into the little dish and kick off my sandals. Closing my eyes, I scrub my fingers over my face, most likely smearing my eye make-up. Damn, where the hell did I get off judging Jax like that?

  Sighing, I plop down on the couch and turn on the TV. Deep down, I know I did it on purpose. The normalcy of our dinner, the familiarity of being back at his house, the easiness with which we fell back into a relationship without even trying is too much. It’s too overwhelming. I can’t lose myself again. I need to stay focused on PT programs, on my future, on moving forward.

  I ring the bell at eighteen hundred hours. The sound reverberates throughout the wide foyer and seems to echo through the door, pulling me into a thousand memories at once. They vanish just as quickly as the door swings wide open.

  "You're here." My brother greets me.

  "We could have come together, you know?"

  “I was at Hunter’s later than I thought I’d be. He comes home in two days.”

  “Graham! That’s wonderful news.”

  “It is. I can’t wait to see him. And, my PCS date got pushed back so I’ll get to spend more time with him than I thought. That means you’ll also have a roommate for a while longer.”

  I bump my shoulder against his arm. “That’s good news too. For me, at least.”

  “For me too.”

  "Evie, there you are. Why are you both still standing in the foyer?" Mom comes gliding into the room, beaming at Graham and me. “It’s so nice when we’re all here together, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, it’s great. Thanks for doing dinner tonight. I’m so sorry I forgot to call you back.” I step closer to Mom.

  She waves away my apology. “You look lovely, Evie. I like your skirt.” Her fingers smooth the material of my navy and white polka dot skirt as I lean in to hug her.

  Inhaling deeply, I hold in her familiar scent. Honey and vanilla. I miss my mom. I wish I could stop avoiding her. I wish I could tell her everything. Just climb into her bed, snuggle next to her and lay my head on her shoulder, and cry as she plays with my hair. I used to be able to do that; now, it would just be awkward.

  “Thanks Mom. I got it at Melanie’s in Savannah. There’s a sale going on.”

  Mom claps her hands together, “Oh, I love that shop! How are things at Morris?”

  She links her arm with mine, and we walk out of the foyer and into the dining room, completely bypassing the formal sitting room where she normally entertains. I know this is for my benefit, because Jax broke up with me there. The gesture is thoughtful and makes me want to hug my mom all over again.

  “It’s going really well. I wanted to talk to you about a new plan I’m considering.”

  “Of course, love. What is it?” She gestures to a chair and I sink into to. The table is already set and a charcuterie and cheese board sits in the center. “I’m applying to PT programs.”

  Mom’s face lights up at my announcement but she doesn’t look surprised. “I heard that you’ve been shadowing Staff-Sergeant Peters on his evaluations,” she admits.

  “I have. I’m learning so much from him; he’s a really great teacher.”

  “He’s very good at his job but also a strong mentor.” Mom agrees.

  Graham trails into the room, taking the seat across from me.

  “Before we dive into the details, would you both like some wine?”

  Graham and I nod as Mom disappears into the kitchen and returns with three wine glasses arranged in a triangle, balancing between her fingers.

  Graham and I each take a glass from her hands and she sits down in the seat next to Graham. Raising her glass in my direction, she says, “To Evie’s new endeavor.”

  Graham raises his glass as well, “To Evie.”

  I clink glasses with my family and take a sip of my wine. The pinot grigio coupled with their praise warms me from the inside out. Watching their open expressions causes a pang of guilt to swell in my chest. Even as I added space and distance between us, Mom and Graham never stopped loving me, never stopped reaching out, never stopped trying to connect with me in small ways. That’s the worst of it. Looking back now, I should have just told Mom the truth. She wouldn’t have cared about who judged her. She wouldn’t have thought twice about it. I was the one who put all this pressure on myself to live up to this standard, to excel at West Point, to be a general, and embrace my family’s legacy.

  Mom just loved me. Still does.

  “So, Evie, tell me everything. Have you given any thought to Baylor-Army?"

  “I have.”

  “Not that you have to go the military route.” She’s quick to supply, her hand reaching out between us. “I just said that because I have several colleagues that studied there if you’re interested in speaking with any of them for more information.”

  “I know. Thanks Mom. I am considering Baylor. In fact, I’ve nearly completed my application, and Peters is going to submit a letter of recommendation.”

  “Fantastic.” Mom claps her hands together. “I’m so proud of you, Evie.”

  “Well done.” Graham adds.

  I want to roll my eyes. How the hell can they be proud of me when it’s taken me seven years to decide what I want to do with my life? I’ve been stuck and stalling and their applauding me for something I should have done years ago.

  Mom rattles off the names of other programs she thinks I may like, even though none of them are connected to the military. After a few minutes, she steers the conversation to other topics, shooting me a glance from the corner of her eye. I know she changed the topic so I wouldn’t feel overwhelmed by discussing PT programs. She wants me to know that just because I’ve raised the idea doesn’t mean she or Graham are going to run with it until I do.

  Mom is nothing if not thoughtful and caring. Once upon a time, we were two peas in a pod. But after what happened, and my not heading off to West Point, I felt like I failed her as a daughter. I kept distancing myself from her, pretending I had plans when she invited me to dinner, bailing on our monthly pedicure dates, cutting our phone calls short.

  And still, she never gave up or stopped trying.

  “Evie,” Mom says, breaking through my thoughts. “I saw Jax the other day at the mini-mart. I was already in the car and he was heading inside so I didn’t get to talk to him but I had no idea he was back home. Then, Graham tells me you guys have been spending time together.”

  I nod, my stomach souring as our argument last night comes flooding back. “Yeah, he’s been back for nearly two months now. He's one of the guys I'm shadowing Peters on."

  “Oh,” her brow furrows, “he was injured?”

  “Got shot up in the shoulder.” Graham throws out.

  Mom winces sympathetically, “I hope he heals quickly.”

  I nod, unable to say more as the thought of Jax and the way I treated him last night burns through me. Mom seems to sense this because she excuses herself to the kitchen and returns with a casserole dish of roast chicken and potatoes.

  I’m grateful that no one brings up Jax’s name for the remainder of the meal. By dessert and coffee, I’m immersed in the war
mth my mom and brother provide, enjoying their company more than I have in a very long time.

  23

  Jax

  My shoulder pops with a crunching sound as I push open the door to Morris. It’s busy today, teeming with vets and a few active duty guys hoping to get cleared in time for their deployments.

  I sense Evie's presence the moment I clear the door. Completely in tune to her, I know without a shadow of a doubt that when I look up, my eyes will seek her out, and study every nuance of her body language. I still haven't reached out to apologize to her for the way I behaved the other night. I know that we need to talk, that I need to let her tell me things in her own time, but man, if it isn't hard to stare at the woman I love and watch her suffer in silence. Every time I think we're moving forward, we hit a speed bump.

  One step forward, two steps back.

  Now, here she is, standing by the free weights just outside the men’s locker room, talking to a guy I don't recognize. I track her from the corner of my eye, trying, and failing, not to be distracted by the bounce in her ponytail or the easy way she interacts with the soldier. There's a familiarity between them and I hate it.

  She's nodding at whatever he's saying, a genuine grin turning the corners of her mouth upward as she laughs. Man, I've missed her laugh. It reminds me of sunshine, summertime, and car rides with the windows open. I scowl that she’s not directing her laugh toward me. The other night was more than two steps back, and I need to make it right again. Today.

  Clearing my head of my wayward thoughts, I shift my gym bag higher on my shoulder. Before I enter the locker room, I chance one more look in Evie's direction.

  The guy places a hand on her forearm, leaning forward to whisper something in her ear. I notice the left side of his face is red, burned and scarred. He has a patch over his left eye. Still, my fingers clench into a fist, arm straining as my shoulder clicks from the exertion. Who the hell is he? She shakes her head, laughing again, and I turn, openly glaring at them now.