by Beth Andrews
He wished it were a beer. Or better yet, the slow, smooth burn of a Jameson. After the night he’d had, he could use a drink. But he had to report to work in a few hours.
And he was afraid once he started drinking, he might not stop. At least not until he had a decent buzz, one that blurred his thoughts and dimmed his memory. Until he could no longer remember the pain in Samantha Coles’s eyes. Could no longer hear her voice pleading for him to help her.
His fingers tightened on the bottle, the sound of crushing plastic loud to his ears. He finished the water and tossed it aside. Pushed all thoughts of last night from his head.
A drop of sweat slid from his hairline and down his temple before disappearing behind his ear. He wiped his forearm across his brow. The bright, late-afternoon sun burned the tip of his nose. It was hotter than usual for Labor Day in southwestern Pennsylvania, and his parents’ picnic was in full swing.
Family, friends, neighbors, coworkers and even a few college coeds—his mother’s classmates in her pursuit of finishing her degree—littered the wide, open yard, and spilled out of the two-story house and onto the large deck. The air smelled of grilled steaks and burgers. The muted sounds of Foreigner’s “Head Games” could be heard under all the conversation. The occasional good-natured cheer and burst of laughter rose from the group playing volleyball in the side yard.
Another successful party. Even though she was now a full-time student, having enrolled in Seton Hill University in Pittsburgh last year, Rose Montesano still found the time to entertain the masses.
Which was why Leo went to more than his fair share of gatherings, picnics and mandatory Sunday dinners. Having a large family who all lived in the same town had its share of perks—free meals being at the top of that list.
Across the driveway, Maddie and Neil stood so close together, you couldn’t get a breath between them. She rose onto her toes and said something in Neil’s ear. He grinned at her, then slid his hand to settle on her ass.
Leo’s right eye twitched. Having family close by also had more than a few drawbacks.
Such as watching your baby sister get back together with the loser who had broken her heart.
“Are we playing ball or what?” he called.
Facing him, Maddie readjusted her ponytail. “Just waiting on you, Princess.”
They resumed play, Maddie, Neil and Eddie against Leo, James and Ryan Pyatt, one of Montesano Construction’s employees. After fifteen minutes of hard play, the score was tied, twenty all. Whoever made the next basket would win the game. Maddie dribbled, looking for an open player while James guarded her.
“Switch, switch,” Leo told Ryan when Neil set a screen on the kid.
Ryan veered left and blocked Eddie while Leo spun right to guard Neil. They fought for position under the basket, pushing, shoving and bumping.
Maddie passed the ball to Eddie, who shot. It bounced off the rim. Leo went up for the rebound, shoulder to shoulder with Neil. He had a few inches more in height, but Neil had the advantage of being a professional athlete. He came down with the ball and pivoted and Leo knew he was going up for the shot.
The restlessness, the edge of frustration and anger Leo had tried to keep contained since last night built, bigger and bigger, until he was afraid he was going to explode with it. His muscles tensed, his body shook. He wasn’t going to lose. Not today.
Not to Neil.
Leo leaped up and with a low growl, spiked the ball out of Neil’s hands.
That he almost took Neil’s head off in the process was, to Leo’s mind, merely a bonus.
Breathing hard, Leo sent the son of a bitch a cocky grin. “You should stick to hockey.”
As he walked past him, he bumped into Neil’s shoulder with enough force to knock him back a step.
Leo grabbed the ball, then jogged over to the edge of the driveway. He bounced the ball at Maddie. “Check.”
“What the hell is your problem?” she asked, which was a neat trick seeing as how her lips barely moved.
“No problem. Just playing the game.”
“That how you want it to be?” She gave a sharp nod, then got into a crouch, her mouth set. “Fine. Don’t say you didn’t ask for it.”
And she shoved the ball into his stomach.
She’d always had a mean streak.
Eyes on her—because despite popular opinion, he wasn’t a complete idiot—he dribbled, keeping the ball low to the ground, his knees bent. James and Ryan worked to get open, James lifting his hand.
Maddie swiped at the ball, but Leo sidestepped. She was fast, he’d give her that. What she lacked in finesse and actual talent, she more than made up for in grit, determination and aggression.
They’d taught her well.
He faked left, then went right. Maddie stuck to him like a second skin, bumping and shoving as he made his way to the basket. He went in for the layup. Maddie jumped to block him.
And punched him in the jaw.
His head jerked back. His teeth snapped together and he landed awkwardly on the side of his foot. He stumbled, then caught his balance, juggled the ball, but it was too late. Maddie snatched it and sent Neil a beautiful bounce pass as he ran to the basket.
The show-off dunked it.
Bastard.
“Foul!” Leo waved his arms as if to erase the point from the imaginary scoreboard. “No basket. That was a foul.”
Maddie blinked at him innocently, which he didn’t buy for a minute. “Was it?” She made a show of looking around the driveway. “Funny, but I don’t see a ref here. And I certainly didn’t hear any whistle so I guess you’re wrong—which, as you know, is one of my very favorite things to say to any of my brothers, but right now I’m taking extreme pleasure in saying it to you in particular.” She patted his cheek. “You lost. Deal with it.”
He edged closer. She, of course, wasn’t the least bit intimidated. “You punched me.”
“I wouldn’t call that a punch,” James said as if he had the right to stick his fat nose into their conversation. He turned to Maddie. “If you’re going to jab, keep your elbow in. And don’t tuck your thumb under your fingers or you’ll break it.”
Something they’d told her at least a hundred times.
She was just too stubborn to listen to them.
She stretched and bent her fingers. Shook out her hand. “Everyone’s a critic. Should I try again? I promise to have better form this time.”
Leo gingerly touched the tip of his tongue to the cut on the side of his mouth. Tasted blood. “You deserve a broken thumb for that sucker punch.”
She wrinkled her nose in faux concern. “Looks like it hurts. A lot.”
“It does.”
“Great. Then my job here is done. Now maybe you’ll stop being such an ass.”
“I doubt that,” James murmured.
Leo bit back a snarl and kept his focus on Maddie. “If I need stitches, I’m going to be pissed.”
“It’s a scratch. Suck it up. Although it would be a real shame, messing up that pretty, pretty face with an unsightly scar.” She edged closer and lowered her voice. “But nothing less than what you deserve for trying to antagonize my boyfriend all the freaking time.”
“Just because you’ve forgotten what he did, how he treated you, doesn’t mean I have.”
“Yes, I’ve completely lost any and all memories from the past thirteen years,” she said drily. “Look, Neil and I both made mistakes. It’s not forgetting. It’s forgiveness.”
He couldn’t believe someone as smart and self-assured as Maddie was willing to put herself in the same situation she’d been in at sixteen. Loving Neil Pettit. Trusting him to be there for her and Breanne, their twelve-year-old daughter.
“Maybe I’m not in a forgiving mood,” Leo said.
“You don’t have to be. Neil didn’t ask for your forgiveness. And if you don’t stop acting like such a jerk, Neil, Bree and I will be forced to skip these family get-togethers.”
“Blackmail, Maddie? T
hat’s beneath you.”
She nodded, not looking the least bit guilty. “And you acting like some overprotective brother is getting old. It’s awkward and irritating to listen to your snide remarks and put-downs to Neil every time we get together. Don’t think Bree hasn’t noticed, too. Or that it doesn’t bother her.”
Leo’s shoulders wanted to hunch so he jerked them back. But he couldn’t stop himself from glancing toward the deck, the last place he’d seen Bree. She was still there, her chubby legs curled under her as she read a book, the sun glinting off her short cap of dark hair.
Though many, many women had fallen hard for him, there were only three he could truly say he’d ever loved. His mother and his sister were near the top of that list. But the number-one spot was held by the only female who’d ever had him wrapped around her little finger.
His niece, Breanne.
Ever since he’d held her as a red, squalling newborn, he’d been hooked. He’d been eighteen and she’d been his first in many ways—first baby he’d ever held. First bottle-feeding and diaper change. First time losing his heart.
He’d do anything for her.
Too bad she didn’t need him any longer. She had her father back in her life.
For now.
“Do you really think Neil’s going to stay this time?” Leo asked harshly. “Just because he’s stuck it out this long doesn’t mean he won’t change his mind or take off again.”
It had been over a year since Neil and Maddie had reconciled, but nothing had really changed. Neil still played professional hockey. Sure, he’d recently been traded to the Blue Jackets, but they were based in Columbus—a three-hour drive from Shady Grove.
“I know he’s going to stick,” Maddie said.
Leo shook his head sadly. “I feel sorry for you for believing that.”
Her eyes got all squinty. Never a good sign. Swear to God, if she hit him again, he was dumping her crazy ass in the pool. Luckily, she kept her hands at her sides.
“I trust him and what we have,” she said. “Neil and I are together and we’re going to stay together so I suggest you grow up and get over this stupid, adolescent rivalry or whatever it is you have with him. Or be prepared to lose me and Bree.”
She stomped off, headed directly to Neil and into his arms. He kissed the top of her head.
Leo wanted to punch something himself.
“He abandons her and Bree,” Leo muttered when James joined him, “and I’m the one she socks in the jaw?”
“Quit whining,” James said. “It’s a scratch.”
Leo jabbed a finger at his injury. “Does this look like a scratch?”
“Yes. Rub some dirt on it and we’ll start another game. Get some of our pride back.”
“Easy for you to say.” Leo carefully ran his tongue over his bottom lip, wincing when he reached the gash at the corner. He bent and retrieved his T-shirt from the grass. “You’re not the one bleeding.”
“You deserved it.”
Leo snagged James’s water bottle and took a drink. Swished it around his mouth while Eddie joined them.
Leo spat onto the grass. “Deserved to be viciously attacked?” Eddie rolled his eyes. Leo narrowed his own. “You have something to say?”
“It was a foul,” Eddie said, like some freaking Zen master brushing aside Leo’s dark scowl and low growl with his own calm expression and quiet tone. “Not a mugging.”
Leo’s free hand fisted. “Who asked you?”
“What are you?” James muttered. “Thirteen?”
Eddie’s mouth turned down, his shoulders rigid. Maybe not so Zen, after all. “You asked, you idiot.”
Stepping between them as he had so many times in their lives, James made a tsking sound. “Name calling.” He faced Eddie, tossed him the ball. “Just walk away. You know this isn’t about you.”
“Maybe not,” Eddie said, “but he’s obviously jonesing for an ass-kicking. I’m happy to oblige.”
Leo shifted to the left, but so did James. He peered around James’s shoulder. “You want to go, Eddie?”
“That really something you want to do in front of Max and Cassidy?” James asked Eddie.
Eddie glanced at Max, who sat cross-legged on the grass raptly watching the unfolding scene, one small, grubby hand petting Zoe, James’s German shepherd/husky mix, the other holding a dripping red Popsicle.
“Cass is in the pool with Harper,” Eddie said, the latter being his girlfriend, Cassidy her three-year-old daughter. He spoke in his usual irritatingly slow way, as if thinking through each word before letting it out of his mouth. “And I could always send Max into the house for a few minutes.”
Max scrambled to his knees, and the action had Zoe jumping to her feet as well. “You always send me somewhere when you fight with Uncle Leo. Why can’t I watch?”
“Because you’ll lose respect for your uncle when you see him cry.”
Leo stepped forward. “We’ll see who ends up crying.”
Though he was honest enough with himself to admit there was a chance it would be him. Eddie was built like a tank, had fists like bricks, and could take a sock to the nose and keep coming at you.
Without so much as a glance Leo’s way, James slapped the back of his hand on Leo’s chest, stopping him in his tracks. “I’ll talk to him,” he said to Eddie. “See what bug is up his butt.”
Frowning, Leo glanced at Max. “Did I suddenly turn invisible?”
Wide-eyed, his dark hair in a newly minted Mohawk, his mouth stained red, the boy shook his head. “I can still see you.”
With one of his laconic shrugs, Eddie turned and walked away.
Leo sneered. “Wuss.”
James sighed, and before Leo could evade, wrapped his arm around Leo’s neck and squeezed. Hard. “Let’s chat.”
Leo struggled, but it was no use. James may have been the poster boy for mild-mannered good guy, but he knew how to put a headlock on someone and make it stick.
“James,” their mother said in the exasperated tone she’d perfected raising four children—Leo figured it was the teen years that had done her in, “what are you doing?”
James turned, dragging Leo along. Leo raised his head as much as possible to see Rose staring at them from her vantage point on the deck, her hand shielding her eyes from the sun. A small crowd had gathered around her, including James’s wife, Sadie; Sadie’s sister, Charlotte Ellison; and Breanne.
“Just going to have a heart-to-heart with Leo,” James said, sounding way too cheerful for the situation.
Then again, if their positions were reversed, Leo would be feeling pretty damned chipper himself.
“You,” Leo spat out as James sent their audience a jaunty wave, “are a dead man.”
James whirled them around, forcing Leo to scramble for balance or wind up on his knees. With his free hand, James gave Leo a noogie. “Actually, I’ve never felt more alive.”
As if to prove it, he started whistling and didn’t stop until they turned the corner behind the garage.
Leo shoved James, stumbling when his brother’s arm suddenly loosened. “What the hell is your problem?”
“My problem? You’re the one going all rogue on the basketball court. Far as I can tell, I just saved you from getting your fat head beat in.”
“I can handle Eddie.”
“I wasn’t talking about Eddie.”
“Neil won’t do anything.” That was the problem. No matter how much Leo baited the other man, he never lost control.
“Neil’s not the one I was talking about, either. Maddie’s pretty pissed at you.”
Leo twisted the lid onto his empty water bottle. Untwisted it. “She’ll get over it.”
She couldn’t stay mad at him. No one, especially not anyone female, ever could.
“You’ve been acting weird ever since you got here,” James said, watching Leo carefully. “What’s going on?”
He began to pace, but couldn’t rid himself of the edginess riding him like some howling
monkey. “Nothing’s going on.”
Christ, couldn’t a guy have an off day? Just because he wasn’t all charm and humor didn’t mean something was wrong.
“Charlotte was telling me and Sadie about that car accident on Langmaid Lane last night. The one involving those two college girls.”
Leo’s stomach pitched. The water he drank threatened to come back up. His brother’s tone was neutral, his expression clear, as if they were discussing something as irrelevant as the Steelers’ chances of making the playoffs this year.
“She mentioned how upset she was, how upset everyone in the E.R. was that they lost the driver.”
A cold sweat formed between Leo’s shoulder blades. He pulled his shirt on, but still felt chilled. Sick with unnamed emotion. With regret. “Char’s an E.R. nurse. She understands they sometimes lose a patient.”
As a firefighter and EMT, Leo knew that as well.
But knowing it sure as hell didn’t make it any easier to accept.
“She said you were at the scene of the accident,” James continued, drilling for information, trying to get inside Leo’s head, inside his thoughts. Wanting Leo to spill his guts—as if that would do any of them any good. “First one there, actually. And you stayed with the victim the entire time.”
Leo’s hands shook. He curled his fingers, once again hearing the crackle of plastic from the water bottle while his nails dug into his other palm until he felt the bite of pain. Victim. That’s all she was to James. All she’d be to most people who would read about the single-car accident in tomorrow’s edition of the Shady Grove Times. A faceless victim. A tragedy.
“She had a name,” Leo managed to say, his voice hoarse. He cleared his throat. “Sam. Her name was Sam.”
Samantha Coles. She’d been young, barely twenty-two, her cheeks still holding the softness of youth. When he and his partner had arrived on scene, she’d been trapped, the front of her crumpled car wedging her between the steering wheel and her seat. Leo had assessed her injuries, and kept her calm while the rest of the team had worked to free her.
Blood had stained her clothes, her brown hair. Her face had been bruised, her body cut and broken. But her green eyes had been clear. Through it all—the horrible noise and her own pain—she’d kept calm.