Something Right (Exile Ink Book 2)

by Skylar Hill

  “I figured,” Cam said, unable to stop her nervous glance at Aiden.

  “You’re a warrior woman, Cam,” Aiden said, raising his own wine glass at her. “I’m proud to know you.”

  It was unexpectedly sweet. And for some reason, it was exactly what she needed at that moment. Aiden usually reminded her of a lion aware it was being hunted, coiled tight with tension, ready to fight—but only to protect itself. But as she watched the brothers interact in the kitchen, bickering over the right lasagna techniques, she saw another side of James’s brother. Even when it came to cooking, Aiden was precise, neat, and scientific, while James had tomato sauce adorably smeared on his cheek. But under his brother’s gentle teasing, Aiden’s cool and calm demeanor melted, to reveal a dry, sarcastic sense of humor that was all about lording things over his little brother with an exaggerated air of superiority that both of them clearly found hilarious.

  She liked watching this, liked that James was so close to his sibling. While his and Aiden’s bond was very different from her and Evie’s, he understood that bone-deep connection. It wasn’t just a feeling that you’d do anything, risk anything, for your sibling, it was knowing that you would.

  “We’re making you and Evie Grandma’s magic lasagna,” James explained to Cam. “I let Evie know to come to Sunday dinner here instead of your place. Aiden and I will get out of here before she comes, and then you can text us when you’re ready for us to come back.”

  “I’m so sorry you have to go through this,” Aiden said, as he layered egg noodles in a shallow baking dish. “But we’re here for both of you. I don’t want Evie to worry about her internship or protection at school, if the worst happens. She needs to focus on her upcoming last semester and her final project. We can hire her security.”

  “She’ll love that,” Cam drawled, trying to imagine Evie’s reaction if she told her she had to go to class flanked by burly bodyguards.

  “Hopefully, it won’t come to that,” James said.

  “Has she told you about her plans for her project?” Aiden asked.

  Cam shook her head. “Don’t tell me!” she said quickly. “She wants it to be a surprise.” And then, when her curiosity got the better of her: “Are you helping her with it?”

  “I’ve just been letting her use the lab in the basement,” Aiden said.

  Cam could see James’s head jerk up at the words. “You’re letting her use Dad’s lab?” he asked.

  Aiden raised an eyebrow. “Sure,” he said, way too casually for it to be anything but forced. Cam knew Aiden had worked side by side with his father for years, she couldn’t imagine what a blow it must have been, not only to lose him, but to have to immediately go into work mode to make sure the company and everything they’d built remained running smoothly. The way James told it, Aiden rarely talked about their father—even to him. It was too fresh a wound still, even after a year and a half.

  “No one was using it,” Aiden continued. “I couldn’t let her use the official labs, because her advisor is already all testy I’m stealing his best student. He wants her to grade his papers and teach his classes for years in grad school instead of putting her where she belongs: in the field and the lab, innovating in real-time.”

  “Aiden didn’t go to grad school, if the whole scornful thing isn’t clear,” James said with an amused look.

  “I had work to do,” Aiden said. “Things to invent.”

  “Grad school is work, too,” James said patiently, as he added the final layer of mozzarella onto the lasagna and slid it into the oven.

  “Well, whatever Evie decides to do next, it’s what’s best,” Cam said firmly. She knew Evie desperately wanted the assistant job at Green Valley that was opening up around the time she graduated, but Aiden hadn’t offered it to her yet. Clearly, he was planning on it, though.

  She felt a twinge as she thought about how those plans might change if Keith got out.

  She was terrified Evie would just… crumple back into the scared little girl whose only recourse was to run and hide. She knew, deep down, that fear was unfounded. She’d watched Evie built herself back up from the ashes of Keith’s destruction, bit by bit, and who she was now was nothing short of inspiring.

  But it also made the cliff to fall from very high.

  A warm hand settled on the back of her neck and James pressed a kiss to her curls. “Do you want more wine?” he asked.

  She shook her head. The last thing she needed was to be tipsy when she told Evie. She looked over at the clock on the wall. It was nearly six. Evie would be here in an hour and a half, so she needed to get it together. Plan some sort of speech. Maybe she could make some notes…

  She realized how ridiculous that thought was and laughed to herself, leaning back, into the solid heat of James’s chest. He looped his arms around her, taking her weight. “You sure you don’t want me to stay?” he murmured. “I’m always happy to kick Aiden out.”

  “Hey,” his brother protested, but his blue eyes crinkled in a smile.

  “It’s okay,” Cam said. “I can do this.”

  By the time the lasagna came out of the oven, it was nearly time for Evie to arrive, so the brothers hurried out, James making sure she knew to text him if she needed anything.

  “We’re just going down the street to the bar,” he said. He was trying to hide how worried he was, and doing it badly, his gray eyes dark with concern.

  “I’ll call you when I’m ready,” she assured him. She smiled, trying to project calm, but she knew he saw through it.

  When she was alone in the loft, it seemed much quieter. She thought about playing some music, but nothing seemed to be a good choice. Did she play happy music to mask what was about to happen? Did she resort to a ballad to set the mood?

  She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath, forcing herself to stop pacing in tight circles around the living room.

  You can do this, she told herself sternly. You survived him once. You can do it again if you have to.

  You shouldn’t have to.

  And there it was: that truthful, self-preserving thought that she’d been trying to push down, because she got so angry when she let it in.

  She shouldn’t have to do it again. She shouldn’t be in this position, where if he got out, she might as well be looking down the barrel of his gun again.

  And neither should Evie.

  The world wasn’t fair, and she hadn’t expected it to be in a long, long time. But she and Evie, they had fought. And they had lost the most important woman in their life, but they had escaped and she’d made sure they didn’t just survive, they flourished.

  She hated that all they’d worked for was threatened, just like that. Because Keith was a traitorous snitch who knew how to work the system.

  Her hands were shaking, and she looked down at them, clasping her fingers together to still them as the doorbell chimed. Her stomach churned as she walked down the hallway and opened the front door.

  “Hi!” Evie breezed in, her satchel thumping against her thighs as she walked. “Why are we doing dinner here? Not that I’m complaining. Can we go up on the roof and check out the solar panels? Do you think Aiden would let me look around the control rooms for the building? I want to see what he did with the grey water recycling protocols.”

  “Oh, James just offered to cook,” Cam said. “But he had to run out for a bit. Do you want some wine?” It still blew her mind that her little sister was old enough to drink, but as protective as she was of Evie, she knew she needed to treat her like an adult. She also knew sometimes she was really bad at this. She was working on it.

  Evie shook her head. “I’m probably going back to the lab after this. I’m working on my project. Why do you look like something bad happened?”

  Even after all these years, the speed at which Evie switched gears still sometimes surprised her. She pressed her lips together, taking a deep breath in through her nose. “We should sit down.”

  “Conversations that start with that are never
about anything good,” Evie said, tossing her bag on the floor and sitting down on James’s couch, one of her legs tucked underneath her. She had nubby gray tights on, her black ankle boots were ones that she’d borrowed from Cam in that way only sisters could borrow, where they didn’t actually ask and kept the item for years. Evie had always looked younger than she was, with her big eyes and her long, straight hair that fell to her waist. It wasn’t until you looked into those eyes that you realized the maturity there. The wisdom. The painful knowing.

  Cam sat down next to her. She was still twisting her fingers together nervously, still unsure, no matter how many times she’d run it over in her mind, how to start.

  “Cam, just say it.”

  It was time.

  “It’s about him,” Cam said.

  Evie, who had been leaning against the couch cushions, straightened immediately, like a deer suddenly aware of a hunter. “What about him?”

  “A parole hearing has been called for September.”

  Evie shook her head. “No,” she said. “That’s wrong. They’re wrong. It’s a mistake. He has a twenty-year minimum sentence. He… he has to stay in there.”

  “Sweetie…” Cam started softly, reaching for her.

  “No!” Evie was up off the couch, backing away from Cam’s touch. Her stomach sunk as she remembered the countless times she acted like this after Cam found her and had to, as gently as she could, pull her out of whatever hiding place she’d chosen that day. But then, instead of shrinking away, Evie stomped her foot like a bull preparing to charge. “This is fucking bullshit!”

  Something close to relief flickered inside her. Anger was better than breaking down. At least in Evie’s case. If she was bottling stuff up, that’s when there was trouble.

  “Yes,” she said. “Yes, it’s utter bullshit. I’m pissed as hell.”

  “What did he do?” Evie asked, her blue eyes shining with a furiously disgusted light. “He cut a deal, right? Gave the Feds something? Did he turn snitch?”

  Cam nodded.

  “Of course,” Evie said, beginning to pace in circles, just like Cam had been doing earlier. “Of course he weaseled his way into a parole hearing. I should’ve predicted this,” she muttered, half under her breath. “Should’ve run scenarios. I need to look at the statistics. Parole result possibilities. I’ll run all the numbers. See what our chances are.”

  “Sweetie,” Cam said. “Why don’t you sit down?”

  Evie shook her head, her mind clearly going a mile a minute. She was getting in the zone, that place where her focus turned inward, everything on the outside fading away. Cam knew from experience if she didn’t distract her, Evie would end up staying up for thirty-six hours straight, researching every possible outcome of parole hearings in the last hundred years.

  “We’ll need to give statements, right? To convince them not to let him out?” Evie asked.

  “You don’t have to worry about that,” Cam said instantly.

  “I don’t have to…” Evie’s eyebrows knit together as she stared at Cam like she didn’t even know her. “I want to,” she said.

  This time, Cam was frowning. “Evie, you… you have school. You don’t need the stress. Plus, I promised you, you’d never have to see him again.”

  “You promised me that when I was thirteen.”

  “Still,” Cam said. “It’s not necessary. I can do it.”

  Evie took a deep breath. “Cammie, I love you. So much. And this is a terrible time to have this conversation. But you’ve got to stop trying to protect me. I get it. I really do. It’s basically wired into our genetics. You put yourself in between me and him over and over. You took so many hits meant for me… but I am not six years old anymore. I’m not thirteen and I’m not even eighteen. I’m twenty-one. I’m an adult. I lost Mom, too. And I should get to choose whether or not I get to stand in front of a group of people and tell them exactly what it would mean to my life and yours, if they let him go. I deserve to look every single person on that parole board and tell them that if they let him go, they’re risking people’s lives and essentially spitting on Mom’s grave by telling her daughters “Sorry he murdered your mom, but he’s changed now.” I deserve to look at them and tell them that he doesn’t change. You don’t change from being a murderous, woman-beating asshole.”

  Cam wasn’t even sure she had words. She was sure if she opened her mouth, she was going to cry. “You’re right,” she said finally, her voice choked with the effort not to cry. “You have every right to have your say.”

  “Oh, God, Cammie, don’t cry,” Evie said, her face falling. “I’m sorry. It’s just… I’m not a baby anymore.”

  “No, it’s not that,” Cam said. “You’re right. I’m overprotective. And I treat you like you’re little still sometimes. I’m going to work on it, because it isn’t fair to you. But right now? I’m just really proud of you.”

  Evie crossed the room in a few steps, and Cam hugged her little sister tightly. It seemed like yesterday that she was still small enough to hide tucked in the bathroom cupboards. And now she was all grown up and ready to face the devil of their past head-on.

  Wetness trickled down the back of her shirt. Evie’s tears. Her sister sniffled, and Cam held on tighter to her.

  “It’s going to be okay,” she whispered. “We’re going to get through this together. That’s what Mom would’ve wanted us to do.”

  There was a long moment where she could just feel Evie’s tears falling onto the back of her shirt, an excruciating moment where she was afraid this was going to be too much. But then Evie took in a quick, fortifying breath.

  “We’ll do this for mom,” she agreed. “Together.”

  Chapter Sixteen

  James

  James and Aiden found a quiet booth in the very back of the small pub down the street that served authentic Irish pub food and had some of the best soda bread he’d ever tasted. After ordering their beers, they weren’t bothered again as they sat and waited. The dim light and dark wood booths, created a cavernous, private feel that lent well to his current mood.

  “Are you mad at me for not telling you all this when I found it on in the background check?” Aiden asked, taking a long sip from his pint.

  James shook his head. “It wasn’t yours to tell. Cam and I are good now. Better than ever. I just…” He let out a bitter laugh. “I sure as hell didn’t expect this.”

  “It’s a lot,” Aiden agreed. “You just have to be there for her. And make sure that bastard doesn’t get anywhere near her.”

  James’s stomach clenched at the thought. “I need to make sure he doesn’t even get out at all.” He looked down at his beer, contemplative. “What kind of world are we living in, that a man who abuses his wife and children for years, and then kills her, gets considered for probation after just eight years?”

  “We can put money into political campaigns to change that later,” Aiden said. “But there’s no use in getting all philosophical here about right and wrong and the world we live in, James. Focus on the reality: the steps we can take to keep Cam and Evie safe.”

  His brother was right. Simmering in the anger about a broken system that had allowed this to happen was a waste of time and emotion. “Weston said he’s going to set Cam up with a specialist—someone who can help her craft her statement to the parole board.”

  “Great,” Aiden said. “What else?”

  “I don’t want her living alone in that shitty apartment anymore,” James said. “But I can’t exactly tell her that.”

  “That would be paternalistic and controlling,” Aiden said.

  “Thanks, Captain Obvious.”

  Aiden rolled his eyes. “Her place isn’t in the best neighborhood. And those old glass doors that lead to the walk up would be really easy to break.”

  “He could get in with little effort,” James said, because the same thoughts had been running through his head. “Plus, the fire escape in the alley out back.”

  Aiden picked apart a
piece of soda bread, thinking. “Have you two talked about moving in together?”

  James rubbed at his beard. Before all this had happened, it had been on his mind. The loft that Aiden has been letting him use was an amazing space, but none of it was his style. He’d never been a apartment sort of guy. He’d always planned on getting a house after Exile Ink opened, but now he was thinking it should be sooner.

  “Not yet,” he said. “I was thinking about it. And then this all blew up.”

  “This is all terrible timing,” Aiden sighed. “The parole hearing’s just a week before your opening.”

  “I know,” James said. “It doesn’t matter, though. What matters is keeping Keith Fawcett in prison, no matter what it takes.”

  Aiden raised one blond brow at the intensity in James’ voice. “I know you won’t like to hear it, Boy Scout that you are, but we may need to fight dirty.”

  “What do you mean?” James asked.

  Aiden shrugged. “There are options here. We could hire PIs to dig up dirt on the members of the parole board and blackmail them. Or we could pay them off.”

  “Fuck, Aiden,” James reared back, his eyes wide. “That’s illegal as hell.”

  His brother’s eyes were hard as they met his. “Jay, this guy is dangerous. And he knows how to work the system. He used to be part of the system. There is a very good chance that he’s going to get out. And then do you know what happens?” He didn’t even wait for James to answer. “Then you, in all your Captain America, Boy Scout, good-guy glory, are going to go after him. Because he’s a threat to the woman you love. You forget, I know you.” He took a long drink of his beer, his face troubled. “If he touched one hair on Cam or Evie’s head, you wouldn’t be able to stop yourself.”

  “Would you?” James asked, suddenly remembering a day, years ago, when they were still in high school. Aiden had broken the nose of a guy who’d grabbed Lydia’s ass without her consent. Later, they found out the guy had been doing it for a month and she’d been too ashamed to say anything. “Would you be able to stop yourself?”