And, oh no, that five-year plan just flew out the window.
* * *
The guys in Reid's unit would call this a clusterfuck.
A grand one.
After getting her out of that freaking stairwell, he hopped into his truck, snuck a peek at Brynne, sitting like a stone in the passenger's seat, staring straight ahead with that zoned-out, numb look he'd experienced a hundred times. Thousands if he counted the people he'd seen it on.
The poor girl had been through a helluva couple of days. He itched to reach over and touch her, wrap her up, and tell her she'd get through it. That the pain would wear away eventually, burn down to an ache she could shove away somewhere.
“Here's what we'll do,” he said. “I'm taking you back to my mom's. We'll get Mags out to the house, update her on what we found on the phone, and then you can sack out in the guest room. My mom will love it. You and Evie were gonna hang out tonight anyway. You'll get a good meal and my mother fussing over you and you won't be alone.”
She glanced up at him with cloudy, unfocused eyes. Totally gone. Had she even heard what he'd said? And if she had, he doubted it registered.
“He's dead,” she said.
And, ah, shit. He didn't need to respond to that. They both knew it, understood it on a primal level. Agreeing with her, reinforcing her pain, at this point, wouldn't do a damn bit of good.
Reid fired the truck's engine, shifted to drive, and swung out of the hospital lot.
“You're gonna be okay, Brynne. I swear to you. It sucks right now. Sucks the motherlode. But it gets better.”
From the corner of his eye he saw her head move. A nod. At least she was tracking the conversation.
“When?”
He stopped at the traffic light and looked over at her. “When what?”
“When does it get better? Because the way this feels”—she curled her hands into tight balls and pushed them into her chest—”this ripping in my chest doesn't feel like it could ever get better. How do you suddenly lose people you love and get through it?”
If he knew the answer to that, grieving people everywhere would be a lot healthier. He shrugged. “Honest to God, I don't know. It's part of war, though, and I learned to find an outlet. Physical exercise was huge. I did whatever I could to work off the stress. When I got tired, I'd listen to music or fiddle with a guitar. More than anything, you need to let yourself feel it. Don't shove it away. It doesn't work. You'll eventually break down and all that shit'll come flying out. It's damned ugly when it does.”
“The voice of experience?”
“Maybe. Or maybe I've just gotten smarter.”
Behind them, a horn honked and Reid checked the stoplight. Green. The butthead behind him honked again. Where the hell was this guy going that he couldn't wait five seconds? Reid lowered his window, shoved his hand out and flipped the guy the bird.
It took a full two seconds for the guy to return the gesture and Reid looked back at Brynne. “He flipped me off. Should I kick his ass?”
Brynne let out a laugh. “No. Please. We don't need you in jail.”
Reid hit the gas and the idiot behind them zoomed around. Good riddance, dickweed.
“I can pull over if you want to talk about this some.”
She set her hand on his upper arm, let it rest there a second before she squeezed. That small gesture—the zero hesitation—sent his body into all kinds of activity—good activity—that made him think being home might not be such a bad thing.
“No,” she said. “I'll be okay. Thank you, though.”
“For what?”
“I'm not sure. Understanding maybe?”
Understand he did. “I won't lie and tell you grief is easy. It's not. It's a brutal bitch. One day you'll feel okay and the next you're a mess. Part of the battle is knowing that. But I promise you, in time, it'll get better.”
“I believe you.” She turned front again, dragged in a huge breath. “I don't know what to do now.”
“Why do you have to do anything?”
A small smile tipped her mouth up. “Because it's what I do. I keep moving. But I've heard what you said about not shoving the pain away. I can do both. I can grieve and keep moving. I promise.” She straightened her shoulders and stared out the windshield. “I should probably head back to the shop.”
That was the last thing she needed. What she needed was quiet. “Jonah is there. He'll call if they need something.”
“Your brother can't sit in my shop all day. I'm sure he has things to do.”
“Yeah, he does. But he said he's good. And the thing about the Baby Billionaire? He'll let you know when that changes. Trust me.”
“Doesn't he hate being called the Baby Billionaire?”
“Why would he hate it?”
“Well, it's a wee bit condescending.”
The shock must really be screwing with her. Britt had laid that Baby Billionaire nickname on Jonah when he'd sold Steele Trap Entertainment, his software company. They'd been sitting around Mom's dining room table, had just finished dinner, and Mom set a giant cake in front of her youngest son. Even their dad had made the trip down from the cabin. All to celebrate Nerd Boy's accomplishment.
As much as Reid liked to get on Jonah, the kid had done it. He'd taken the thing he'd been passionate about for years and succeeded.
And Reid was proud of him. Not that he'd ever admit that shit, but yeah, baby brother had done good.
“I'm gonna disagree with you on that one. It might be condescending to people who don't know us, but he got that nickname when we were celebrating him. Mom was cutting cake and Britt said, 'Give the baby billionaire the first piece.’ We all laughed, including Jonah. He's competitive enough to enjoy the fact that he's the youngest, geekiest of all the Steele boys and he was the one on the Fortune 500 list. Believe me.”
“It really is amazing.”
Sure was. “Yeah. He's a good guy. I want to kill him half the time, but he's got an open heart.”
Silence followed. Reid wasn't good at silence. Silence meant too much thinking and heavy thoughts.
“My heart,” Brynne said, “isn't open. Not anymore.”
He hung a left to the mountain road that would avoid traffic and take him back to Steele Ridge.
Like he said, too much thinking. “Yeah, it is. You're just pissed at men.”
“Which gives me a closed heart.”
“Honey, after what I saw this last day, your heart is far from closed. Maybe you're cautious, but you're not locked down.”
He took a quick glance at her, found her studying him, and if he weren't driving, he'd do things to her. Extremely fun things that would have them exploring various body parts and would most definitely take her mind off her troubles.
He went back to the road. This girl was grieving and his horndog self wanted action?
Total schmuck.
“So, Jonah’s fine at the shop. We'll call him if you want. If he needs to bail, I'll run down there and keep watch until closing.”
“You don't have to do that. You shouldn't do that. This isn't your problem.”
“I know it's not. But I think you've figured out that I like you.” He shot a smile her way. “For many reasons.”
Brynne's lips quirked. Points for him on flipping that frown upside down, as his mama liked to say.
He punched up Jonah's number on his phone.
“Meathead, what's up?”
“We're heading back to town. I'll fill you in later, but I'm gonna run Brynne over to the house. You good there for a while?”
Jonah hesitated and Reid didn't bother filling the quiet phone line. If his little brother knew him at all, he took the unspoken hint that he shouldn't ask about Nelson. If Reid wanted to update him, he would. Simple as that.
“I'm good,” Jonah said. “Brynne's employee makes a nice view.”
Reid laughed. “You're a dog.”
“I learned everything from you.”
Not everything, little brot
her.
“Whatever. I'll holler at ya. Later.”
He punched off, tossed his phone into the console, and took the curve that looked out over Steele Ridge.
He checked the rearview and slowed the truck to a crawl. On days like this, with the sun throwing long rays over the trees and the church steeple, he figured Steele Ridge could be the model for some cheesy greeting card.
Small-town life. The thing he'd always run from.
Brynne shifted toward him. “Why are we stopping? Everything okay?”
Reid pointed out the window. “I've been all over the world and seen amazing places. I mean, there are places where the stars are so bright at night you'd swear they're fake.”
“I can imagine.”
“But there's something about this spot that's right up there with all those crazy cool places. I can't figure out why I feel that way, but I do.”
“Oh,” she said. “That's easy. This is home.”
Home. Really? Could it be that simple?
“But it hasn't been my home for twelve years. Not really. Between school and the Army, I could count the times I've been here.”
Something, in hindsight, he should be ashamed of. There'd been times, a few days’ leave here and there, he could have come home, but chose to do other things. A weekend at the beach with the guys, a trip to Vegas.
“I don't think it matters how often. We all have a place that's home. We may live other places, but they're not home. Like me with New York. For a while, I loved it there. The culture, the excitement. It was all so different.”
“But you came back.”
“It wasn't home. Steele Ridge is. It's where I belong. The people who love me are here. That's what home is to me.”
He glanced over at her, held her gaze for a few long seconds.
Home.
The people who loved him. And that he loved. All of them were here. Right in Steele Ridge. And after all the places he'd seen, the horrors he'd experienced, it took a twenty-four-year-old recovering from a bum marriage to enlighten him.
Dumbass.
“I'll think about that,” he said. “Thank you.”
“For what?”
Reid shrugged. “Making sense of it, I guess. Showing me how to change my thinking.” He reached over, ran his fingertips down her cheek, and just touching her, the smooth, soft skin, lit something inside him. Maybe home wasn't such a bad place. He liked this girl. A lot. “You're a smart, beautiful girl, Brynnie. Don't ever let anyone tell you different.”
* * *
Brynne sat in one of the Adirondack chairs on Mrs. Steele's porch watching the late afternoon sun dip while immersed in the quiet around her. A soft breeze blew and on any other day, she would love the peaceful calm.
Today? With Nelson gone, nothing would make her happy.
Evie pushed through the back door, two glasses in hand.
“Lemonade.” She handed one off to Brynne. “Our mama makes it from scratch for Reid. She says he's a pain in the ass, but she loves him.”
These people. So funny. “Your family is—”
“Crazy?”
“Spirited. But it's…nice. You know? Everyone helps.”
One moment in their company brought a feeling of unity and love. Despite the smart comebacks and insults, the Steeles were a force.
“Yeah,” Evie said, “but those boys fight. They're either arguing or laughing. Nothing in between.”
“They're men. I think it's how they communicate.”
“I guess.”
Brynne took a sip of the lemonade and let the sweet tartness bring her taste buds alive. At least something brought her from her stupor.
The shock of Nelson's death hadn't quite worn off. That, combined with the emptiness left when Reid went off with Maggie half an hour ago, wasn't helping her mood. With Reid around, she was distracted. He had that way about him. All action and movement and, well, excitement.
Again he'd come to her rescue by relieving Jonah at the store and, Brynne guessed, took the opportunity to talk privately with Maggie after they'd turned Nelson's phone over.
Instinctively she knew Reid had theories and questions about Nelson he wouldn't say in front of her.
For that she'd always be thankful. As aggressive as he could be, his sensitivity to her situation, to her loss, could only come from someone who understood.
How had he done it, all those years in the military? Watched his friends get injured.
Or die.
Evie set her glass on the porch, twisted sideways and curled her jean-clad legs under her, her body nestling into the giant chair. Evie had that kind of body. Lean and flexible and…enviable. At least to Brynne, who'd never been blessed with a thin frame. One where she didn't have to try on thirty pairs of jeans to find one that fit her giant rear.
Evie propped her elbow on the chair arm and dropped her chin into her hand. “Is there anything I can do? I see how sad you are. I hate that for you.”
Brynne took a second, stared out into the vast acreage beyond the porch. All that greenery enhanced by the orange glow of late sun. The place was stunning. Someday she'd have property like this.
And she'd buy it herself.
She looked back at Evie. “I don't know. I've never lost a friend before. It's…hard. Like it hasn't sunk in yet. When my grandmother died, we expected it. She'd been sick. But this?” Something in her stomach squeezed and she blew air through her lips, fought off the shaky feeling that came right before a bout of tears. “This, I don't know how to process.”
Reid does.
“Reid does. You should talk to him.”
Brynne finally smiled. “I was just thinking that! I swear you people are mind readers.”
“I hope Maggie figures out who did this.”
“The phone might help. And this gang guy—oh my God—that blows my mind. I had no idea Nelson even knew a gang member.”
“Do you think—”
“What?”
“Nothing. It's dumb.”
Brynne knew. How could she not? “You want to know if he was involved with a gang?”
“It's dumb. I mean, this is squeaky-clean Nelson. Did he even swear?”
“Not a lot. But something was weird yesterday. When he came to see me.”
“Weird how?”
Exactly what Brynne had been trying to figure out. “I don't know, he was rushing. Distracted, I guess. And then he didn't have anything packed for this supposed trip he suddenly had to take. And where's his laptop? He always had that with him. And now Maggie can't find it.”
“Did you look through his phone messages? The texts?”
“Yes. After we got back from the hospital. He'd cleared them all. All that was there were the numbers in his log.”
Evie puckered. “Did you guys do an online search for them?”
“Not all.”
“Do you still have them?”
“In my purse. Why?”
Evie flapped her hands. “Jonah and Reid are gone. We could do research without them yelling at us.”
“Hacking?”
Evie hopped out of the chair, smacked her hands together. “Information gathering.”
“Reid will kill you.”
“And Jonah, too. He's always telling me not to do it on my own. But…”
Oh, this couldn't be good. “What?”
“I play. When I'm at school. I always make sure I don't leave a trail. He taught me how to do that. I'm getting good at it. I bet we could figure out who those numbers belong to and get a history. Just like we did with this Reggie guy.”
As easy as all this sounded, a lot could go wrong and she didn't need the two of them getting arrested. Not when Evie shouldn't even be involved in this mess.
But the idea of getting answers and figuring out what Nelson was up to could be right at the end of Evie's fingertips. “You can do it safely? We won't get caught?”
“Yeah. This is the easy stuff. We just need to do it before Reid or Jonah gets back.”
Minutes later, Brynne stood behind Evie, who'd settled into what she called Jonah's command center.
That command center thing might not have been far off the mark. Jonah had knocked out a dividing wall between two bedrooms and made it his own personal office/bedroom suite. On one side sat his bedroom and the other his office. In the office half sat a giant U-shaped desk with five oversized monitors, an ergonomic, reclining chair and a television that spanned half the length of the wall.
For gaming.
The setup must have cost a gazillion bucks.
Evie logged on to one of the three laptops—because, yes, apparently Jonah needed multiples.
“Evie, that might be the biggest television I've ever seen.”
“I know. He doesn't even have cable in here. He's online all day. He works a lot.”
“Does he play just to play? Or is it all work?”
“I don't know. Since he sold his company, I think the lines have blurred. He's bored.”
One of the giant monitors on the desk flashed bright and Evie went to work, her fingers flying across the keyboard.
Brynne huddled behind her, watching over her shoulder as code streamed on the monitor.
“Is this the DMV again?”
“It worked last time. Give me two minutes.”
“Sure.”
Why not? It wasn't every day Brynne got to break the law. Was hacking into the local DMV a federal offense? Or just state?
She shook it off. Some things she didn't need to know. Unlike Nelson's activities. That, she definitely needed to know.
“I'm in,” Evie said. “First number?”
Brynne read a number from the note she'd jotted back at the store. A few seconds later a report popped up on the monitor and Brynne scanned the name. Rebecca.
“Nope. That's his sister. She lives in Florida. No idea why her name didn't come up. I'd assume he'd have her in his contacts.”
“Who knows? Moving on. Next number?”
Once again Brynne read off a number and another report popped up.
“Simon Barker,” Evie said.
Simon, Simon, Simon. She knew that name. She tilted her head one way, then the other. Closed an eye.
When the silence dragged on, Evie angled back. And cracked up.
“What's funny?”
Living Fast: Steele Ridge Series Page 13