Don't Let Go by Jaci Burton Page A

idea to bring Roxie with him to his parents’ house, but in the end, he figured maybe they’d focus more on the dog and less on him, which would be ideal, so he slid her into his truck and drove over to their place.
    He pulled the mail out of the mailbox and shook his head, going through it as he went to the door. Everything was for Saul and Rita Conners, just as he expected. He walked up to the front door, wishing there were a couple of pots of flowers like Mom used to keep out there years ago. Anything to brighten the place up. Instead . . . nothing. Just the old green door, which could use a coat of paint.
    When his mother opened the door, her eyes widened. “You got a dog? Why didn’t you tell me you got a dog?”
    â€œIt just happened. She wandered into the shop a couple of days ago.”
    â€œOh, she’s precious.” Her mother held her arms out and took Roxie from him.
    â€œHer name’s Roxie.”
    â€œWell, hello, Roxie. Aren’t you just the sweetest thing?”
    Grateful not to be the one to be smothered in the hugs and kisses his mother was currently bestowing on Roxie, he walked in and shut the door behind him.
    His mother had already disappeared with his dog, so he followed the sound of cooing and excited talking. He heard his dad’s voice, so he figured his mother was showing off Roxie to his father.
    Maybe he could just leave Roxie with his parents for a few hours, come back later and pick her up, and then he wouldn’t have to endure—
    â€œOh, Brady. There you are,” his dad said.
    Or, maybe not.
    He walked over to his dad, his hand outstretched to shake his father’s hand.
    His father pulled him into his arms for a tight hug.
    Brady closed his eyes and endured it, knowing his father needed this.
    When his dad pulled back, he smiled. “You look good.”
    Brady smiled back. “Thanks. So do you.”
    He was lying. His dad was still too thin. So was Mom. They’d both lost weight since Kurt’s death. And not the “Hey, we’ve been exercising and eating right” kind of weight loss. They were both pale and thin.
    â€œSo what’s going on with the car?”
    â€œOh. Some kind of grinding noise. Might be the brakes or something. Not sure.”
    His dad had never been a car kind of guy. He was an accountant, not a man hardwired for mechanics.
    â€œLet’s go take a look. Hey, Mom. Keep an eye on Roxie?”
    His mother had Roxie on the sofa and was playing with Roxie’s chicken.
    â€œOf course. You two go ahead.”
    They went out the side door to where his father’s eight-year-old Tahoe was parked in the carport. His father handed him the keys and Brady started it up, listening to it idle. He didn’t hear anything, so he gunned the engine. Still, nothing.
    â€œLet’s take it for a drive,” Brady said. His father climbedin, and they fastened their seat belts. Brady put it in gear and pulled out, taking it around the block a few times, then out onto the main road, making sure to hit the brakes hard at each stop.
    He didn’t hear any grinding noise, so when he pulled back into the carport and put the car in park, he left the engine on and looked over at his dad.
    â€œSeems to be running okay, Dad.”
    He got out of the SUV, opened the hood, and checked out the engine. Nothing was loose and it all sounded normal. He went over and shut off the engine and pulled out the keys, handing them over to his father.
    â€œBrakes feel fine. Everything looks and sounds normal.”
    His dad shrugged. “That’s strange. I could have sworn I heard something for the past week.”
    Uh-huh. He wasn’t buying it.
    â€œCome on inside and we’ll get something to drink,” his father said.
    They went into the house, and his father pulled out two glasses to fix them iced tea.
    His mom was in the kitchen, and something was cooking on the stove.
    â€œI made