Family first.
Lacey turned to Tyler and threw her arms around him, hugging him tightly.
He awkwardly patted her back. “What’s that for?”
“Can’t a girl hug her favorite cousin?” she asked, turning back into her seat, feeling a little embarrassed at her spontaneous outburst. Especially when she saw the shock on their faces. Okay, so she wasn’t known as a hugger. But neither were they.
Maybe this place didn’t feel like home, and her parents hadn’t always noticed her, but she had these five men. Right then, being around them was a balm on her ravaged soul.
She’d taken hit after hit lately. Her self-esteem had been ground into the dirt, and she wasn’t sure there was any resurrecting it. But being around people who always had her back was better than any drug or tub of Ben and Jerry’s.
“Hey, I thought I was your favorite!” Travis protested as she knew he would.
Rusty frowned at her, and she sent him a wink.
“You’ve got it all wrong, I’m your favorite,” Jace said. “Who beat up Billy Pine for kissing you in eighth grade?”
“He was my boyfriend!” she protested. “You gave him a black eye. Every time I came near him after that, he’d run away.”
“Damn those were good times,” Jace said with satisfaction. “So much easier when giving someone a black eye solved all your problems.”
The others nodded in agreement.
Lacey shook her head. Idiots.
“I get to be your favorite today. I did rescue you earlier after all.” Clay’s quiet statement brought all protests to a screeching stop.
“Rescued her? Rescued her from what?” Travis asked in a quiet voice that meant he wanted answers. Now.
“I thought we weren’t going to talk about that.” She sent Clay a scowl.
“You said that. Not me.” He shrugged.
“Lacey,” Travis warned.
Crap.
“I thought my car was pulling to the right, so I stopped to check the tires. Clay drove up before I could get out. He couldn’t find anything wrong, so I continued on my way.”
Travis frowned at Clay. “You let her keep driving? If there’s something wrong with her car, she shouldn’t be driving it.”
“I can check it now.” Jace stood, his plate still half-full.
“What? No, sit. You’re still eating for goodness sake. My car’s fine. It was just my imagination.”
“I’ll still check it before you go,” Jace told her. But at least he sat.
“She startled something wicked when I knocked on the car door.”
“I didn’t realize it was you,” she protested weakly. Well, shit. They weren’t going to make a big deal out of this, were they?
They’d all grown quiet, and when she looked up, she realized they were looking at Travis. Waiting for him to deal with her. Like there was something wrong with her.
“We got incoming,” Tyler stated quietly.
She looked up to see her father and Brandi making their way towards them. Thank you, God. She smiled big and waved. “Come, sit down.”
Brandi smiled back tentatively, but her father looked slightly startled by her cheerful greeting. As they settled down, Travis leaned into her and whispered, “Saved. For the moment.”
***
Lacey walked into the living room of her childhood home and came to a stop, just staring around. There were changes. They were subtle but there. Some new pillows, a throw had been placed over the back of the old sofa her father had owned forever, hiding the cracks in the leather.
Not bad things, she admitted to herself. She could deal with change. And it was only natural that Brandi would want to put her own stamp on things. This was her house now.
Damn, that weirded her out. Lacey could still see her mother at the sink washing the dishes. Chasing Brax through the living room as he laughed, a piece of chocolate cake in his hand.
She moved to the remembrance wall. It wasn’t called that, of course. But that’s what it was. Photo after photo of Brax filled the space. From the time he was born until he’d died at just fifteen. Her mother had created it soon after he’d passed. The counselor had suggested putting together a book of her favorite memories of her son. As usual, her mother had taken it one step further.
She wondered what Brandi thought of it.
Someone walked up behind her and she turned to see her father staring up at the wall.
“He was such a handsome boy. Athletic and smart too. He was headed for great things. A football scholarship, college education. He would have been the first one in our family to go to college.”
She didn’t point out that she’d gone to college at sixteen. That she’d graduated from John Jay with an MA in psychology. There was no point.
“He was wonderful, Daddy,” Lacey said, trying to keep the impatience from her voice. How could he not notice her standing right here? There were times she just wanted to scream at him that Brax was dead but she was still here. She took a deep breath to try to calm herself. Losing her temper would do no good. She was done trying to fight for his attention. She turned to look at him.
He seemed older. There were more lines around his eyes, more gray in his hair. He lifted a glass of beer to his mouth and took a sip while staring at the wall of Brax.
Since when had he started drinking beer out of a glass? Once, he’d have considered a glass a waste of time when he could be drinking straight from the can.
“Daddy, there’s something I have to tell you.” She licked her lips. Even though she told herself his opinion didn’t matter, she still hated feeling like she’d failed.
“What do you think of Brandi?” he asked suddenly.
“Um . . . well, I’ve only spoken a few words to her,” she replied diplomatically.
He frowned. “I knew you wouldn’t make an effort to get on with her.”
“Daddy, I didn’t say that. I just haven’t had a moment to speak with her other than to say hello. If she makes you happy, then I’m sure we’ll get on fine. It’s just, it’s weird to think of this as her home when I can still see mom in it, you know?”
Her father didn’t answer, and she could feel the displeasure rolling off him.
“You’ve changed some of the photos,” she stated as a kind of olive branch.
“I removed the ones that held your mother. No need for Brandi to see a reminder of her every day.”
“Right, and what about the ones of me?” she questioned.
“You? What photos of you?”
Exactly.
Where were the photos of her? Packed away in some box? Maybe one day she’d find a secret stash of photo albums somewhere filled with pictures of her. But somehow, she kind of doubted it.
“Never mind. Daddy, there’s something I have to tell you about my job.”
His face lit up slightly. “Brandi is really interested in your job. She’s decided to become a writer and she’s going to write a book featuring yours truly as a rogue FBI agent. Going to be a best seller. Everything she does turns to gold.”
“Oh, so she’s quite wealthy, is she?”
He stared down at her disapprovingly. “We don’t discuss money.”
“You did get a prenup, I’m assuming.” Her dad wasn’t rich by any means. But he owned the house and had run a hardware store for years. He was comfortable, and despite the problems they had, she wanted to make sure he stayed that way.
“A prenup? Why would I get one of those? We’re in love, Lacey.”
And that meant Brandi wouldn’t take him for half of everything if they divorced?
“It’s better to be safe than sorry, Dad,” she said gently.
“Working for the FBI has made you cynical. You were always a serious child.”
And that was a surprise to him? It wasn’t as though her childhood had been rainbows and kittens. She bit back the urge to snap at him.
“No wonder you can’t find a man. I mean, what sort of life do you live where you think everyone is
A real life. Where you had to be careful, where you had to guard yourself constantly.
“About my job at the FBI,” she began, licking her lips. “I quit.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Why?”
“I had some issues with a colleague.” Hopefully, he didn’t ask anything else. She couldn’t tell him the full story.
“Oh, well, Brandi will be disappointed.”
And that’s what really mattered. She felt her hands clench into fists. Calm. Calm.
“But maybe it’s a blessing in disguise.”
Really?
“Perhaps now you can build a life for yourself and keep a man. What was the name of that last boyfriend of yours? The one with the decent job. He had a good head on his shoulders, not like those idiot cousins of yours.”
“Lyle. And my cousins are your nephews,” she pointed out.
He sent her a withering look. “I know that. My brother never did discipline those kids. They ran wild. Your mother didn’t like them to be around Brax, she thought they’d lead him astray.”
She bit back a sharp retort and looked away, knowing she could barely keep her feelings from showing.
It always came back to Brax.
“Working for the FBI kept you from giving Lyle the attention he needed. He had a high-powered job, he needed you to be there for him. Take care of the things he didn’t have time to do.”
Dear Lord, have we fallen back into the 1930s?
“He was an accountant.” Who couldn’t keep his dick in his pants.
If anyone had needed support, it was her. She’d worked damn long hours at the FBI, in a job that was highly stressful. Over time, it had slowly eaten away at her, leaving her with nightmares and doubts it was the career path for her.
But she’d stuck with it. Determined to make herself a success. To prove she was strong, tough, and smart.
And look at where it had gotten her.
“Like Brandi supports me. She takes care of her man. She’s always there for me after a stressful day with a drink and a smile. You could learn a lot from her.”
“You’re retired, Dad,” she pointed out. How stressful could his day possibly be?
“Doesn’t mean I don’t have stresses, Lacey. You don’t understand men.”
No, she certainly didn’t. On that, they could agree.
“Your cousins have spoiled you. They’ve made you think you don’t need anyone else when you have them. But you can’t always rely on them. There will come a time when those five idiots will build lives of their own and then where will you be? No, you need to build your own life.”
She couldn’t believe they were having this conversation. That he was lecturing her. Was this the same man who’d turned to alcohol because he couldn’t cope with his son’s death? Whose wife had run off to build a new life, leaving her alcoholic husband and child behind without even saying goodbye?
“Darling? Where are you?” A soft voice called through the house.
Lacey’s stomach tightened. Saved by the fifty-year-old cheerleader. Brandi walked into the living room with a smile. That smile faded slightly as she saw Lacey, but she soon rallied and walked over. Her father immediately placed an arm around his wife’s waist, giving her a soft look.
“Hello, Lacey, are you enjoying our little celebration?” Brandi asked in a voice that sounded way too young for her age.
Lacey nodded. “Thanks for inviting me.”
Thanks for inviting me? Really? This is supposed to be my home.
But then, it hadn’t felt like home in years.
“Well, thank you for coming. I hope you still consider this your home and will come back whenever you like. You’re always welcome.”
Well, thanks for telling me I’m welcome in my own home.
Be nice, Lacey.
“Thanks.”
Brandi looked up at the wall of Brax. “There are some nice photos up here. Your father took down the ones with your mother. I told him he didn’t have to, but he wanted to make me feel more at home. He’s a sweetie that way.”
He sure was.
“When I asked him where the photos of you were, he said you were camera shy and didn’t like getting your photo taken as a child. Said you used to run away whenever it came out.”
Funny, that wasn’t the way she remembered things. They hadn’t put up photos of her because she hadn’t mattered as much as Brax. Because they’d blamed her for his death.
Her anger stirred.
An awkward silence fell between the three of them.
“Darling, could you help me bring the dishes in?” she asked her father.
“Of course.” Her father smiled.
Brandi took hold of his empty glass. “I’ll put this in the dishwasher. It was nice to finally meet you, Lacey.”
“You too,” Lacey said before the other woman walked away.
“Brandi doesn’t want me drinking as much. Thinks it will put me in the grave early and she wants as much time with me as possible. You could have had that if only you’d tried a bit harder.”
Right. Because she hadn’t been trying hard her entire life. To be the best, to be the smartest, to have him notice her. All for nothing.
“Sure, Dad. I’ll try hard to make you proud. Like Brax would have done if he were still alive.”
He nodded solemnly and she realized he was never going to understand she was being sarcastic. Without another word, she turned around. She was done here. Done with trying to make him happy. Done with trying to make up for something that wasn’t her fault. Now she realized that all she felt towards him was anger. Anger that for so many years he’d made her feel like she wasn’t good enough, that her brother’s death was her fault. Anger that he couldn’t be a better parent.
Coming home had shown her nothing had changed. There was still no getting through to him. She wasn’t going to settle any demons this way. She walked away.
She was done.
***
“You sneaking off?”
Lacey cried out then turned, holding her hand to her chest. “Jesus, are you trying to give me a heart attack?”
“Feeling guilty will do that to you,” Travis said slowly crossing his arms over his chest as he leaned against her rental car.
“It’s rude to sneak off without saying goodbye,” he told her.
She laughed. “Since when did you care about manners?”
“Since I want to know what’s going on with you.”
“Nothing’s going on with me.”
“You lost your job.”
Okay. So, it seemed they were just ripping the bandage off quickly.
“I quit.” She made certain to keep her voice even.
“Why?”
“Maybe I thought it was time for a change.”
Fatigue swamped her. She felt like she’d aged twenty years in the last six months. Working the Latin Lothario case had sucked her dry. A ridiculous name for a man who’d raped and murdered seven women, but the news media had given him the name and it had taken off. That case had taken everything from her. Her energy, her sleep, her ability to feel safe. She’d been so tired she’d somehow missed what had been right under her nose.
The fallout from her failure had been catastrophic. She’d quit her job. She couldn’t stay there. Not anymore. And they’d been more than happy to see her go.
She just couldn’t understand it. She was normally so careful. So meticulous. How had she managed to screw everything up so badly?
Now, she had nothing. Her career was down the toilet, her social life was non-existent, and the nightmares were worse than ever.
“You hated that job. I don’t know how you stayed there as long as you did.”
“I guess I figured quitting would make me a failure.”
“A failure? Honey, you couldn’t fail at anything if you tried. Everything you put your hand to you excel at.”
“I got the profile for the Latin Lothario completely wrong. Maybe they would have caught him earlier if I hadn’t fucked it up. I thought he was older, Caucasian, well-educated. Instead, he turned out to be in his mid-thirties, he hadn’t graduated high school and he was the same guy who jogged by my place every day. He was right under my nose and I never even noticed!”
“Were you the only person working on that profile?”
“No, but—”
“You worked damn hard on that case. When he targeted you, they should have pulled you off the case and put you into protection, instead you let them use you as bait. And don’t think I’m not furious that you didn’t tell me all of this until after he was caught. You know I would have protected you.”
Which is why she hadn’t told him any of this until after the Latin Lothario was caught. If he’d known she was in danger he’d have done whatever he had to in order to protect her. Including going after the Latin Lothario himself. And she wouldn’t have him endangering himself for her. Not that she’d tell him that. He had his ego to protect after all.
“I know, Travis. You guys have always protected me. I thought we could catch him by using me as bait, but he still murdered that last poor girl.” Carlie Jones. Her name still haunted her.
“That wasn’t your fault. You did everything you could to catch him.”
That still didn’t make her feel any better.
“You sleeping?” Travis studied her intently.
She glanced away. “About as much as I normally do.” Which wasn’t much.
Travis snorted. “I know that feeling.”
She guessed he would. If anyone understood having nightmares it would be Travis. She didn’t know much about his time in the Marines, but it had turned him into a different man. Harder. More serious.
“I have to start over.” Somehow, she needed to rebuild a life. Kind of hard to do when she had no job and she couldn’t even spend the night in her apartment.
“Do you know where you’re going to work now?”
No, because what would an ex-FBI profiler who’d fucked up her career do next? She couldn’t go back to what she’d done before. She just couldn’t. Counseling criminals day after day had eaten away at her soul.
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