them.
“It’s … complicated.”
“It usually is with you.” The words slipped out, covered in irritation. And Sean bit his lip, swearing at himself. “But I’ll get the place cleared out. You need anything else?”
“No … thanks, Sean.”
Where other brothers had a place between them filled with love and shared memories and mutual respect, between Sean and Brody there was only a scale. Large. Dominant. And utterly, painfully, out of balance.
Sean struggled all the time to even the scales, he piled on these small moments where he didn’t ask things like “Where the hell have you been and are you such an asshole that you can’t even call?”
The way he let himself be rebuffed over and over by Brody.
Those things were so insignificant, so small a weight that it didn’t even come close to balancing the scales.
Chapter 7
Brody pulled into the parking space behind the bar. The headlights lit up the yellow brick wall, the blue Dumpster, the black metal staircase up to the apartment.
Home. Sort of.
He turned off the car and the sudden silence pounded.
When he came to Bishop, when that unnamable loneliness brought him home, he stayed with his brother. Which guaranteed he wouldn’t stay long. Not that Sean wasn’t great. He was. Brody imagined he was everything a brother should be.
But living in someone else’s space like that was for different men. Different people.
In the back, Ashley didn’t move. Except for the small lift and fall of her shoulders, she hadn’t even twitched since they’d gotten in the car at the Memphis airport.
His knee aching, he climbed out of the SUV he’d rented and opened the back door.
As carefully as he could he lifted and pulled her from the backseat and into his arms. She weighed nothing. Terrifyingly nothing. Like her skin was full of feathers. Her bones made of air.
At some point he’d go to Cora’s and buy some food. All the fattening southern food Cora was growing famous for.
But first Brody planned on sleeping for a day straight. At this moment, so close to the end of this surreal trip around the world, across the country, and somehow unbelievably into his past, he felt the weight of his legs.His arms and eyelids. He had been over twenty-four hours without sleep. And the chemical cocktail of adrenaline and worry was draining out of his body, leaving him exhausted.
He hadn’t been this tired since Afghanistan.
The creak and bang of the back door of the bar opening spun him around. It was Sean of course, standing in a slice of light from the open door. The sound of the bar, of music and the hum of voices, spilled out around him, surrounding him. Gilding him.
Sean had his mother’s red hair and freckles, and looking at him was sort of bittersweet, even after all this time.
“Hey, I thought I heard a car,” Sean said, with a wide smile, and he stepped away from the door and the light. “Let me help with your bags.…” The smile dropped from his face.
“Is that a woman?” Sean asked.
“Yeah.”
“Is she … alive?”
Brody smiled. “Of course.”
“What … ah … did you do?”
“I knocked her out and dragged her here, where I’m planning on chaining her to the wall in the apartment above your bar.”
Christ, he was punchy. He could see it in Sean’s eyes. That sudden bafflement quickly erased by joy, pleasure. Like a dog who realized someone he thought might hit him was actually going to throw a ball instead.
Brody looked away, uncomfortable with all that bald affection. It was like sunlight bouncing off snow—blinding.
“It’s hard to know with you, Brody,” Sean said. “But I suppose if that’s your thing, I’ll try not to turn you in to the cops.”
“She’s a friend,” Brody said. “Who just needs a quiet place to get herself together.”
“And an apartment above a bar is the most logical place?”
“An apartment above a bar that doesn’t do a whole lot of business is.”
“Ouch, man. It’s busier
“It’s … complicated.”
“It usually is with you.” The words slipped out, covered in irritation. And Sean bit his lip, swearing at himself. “But I’ll get the place cleared out. You need anything else?”
“No … thanks, Sean.”
Where other brothers had a place between them filled with love and shared memories and mutual respect, between Sean and Brody there was only a scale. Large. Dominant. And utterly, painfully, out of balance.
Sean struggled all the time to even the scales, he piled on these small moments where he didn’t ask things like “Where the hell have you been and are you such an asshole that you can’t even call?”
The way he let himself be rebuffed over and over by Brody.
Those things were so insignificant, so small a weight that it didn’t even come close to balancing the scales.
Chapter 7
Brody pulled into the parking space behind the bar. The headlights lit up the yellow brick wall, the blue Dumpster, the black metal staircase up to the apartment.
Home. Sort of.
He turned off the car and the sudden silence pounded.
When he came to Bishop, when that unnamable loneliness brought him home, he stayed with his brother. Which guaranteed he wouldn’t stay long. Not that Sean wasn’t great. He was. Brody imagined he was everything a brother should be.
But living in someone else’s space like that was for different men. Different people.
In the back, Ashley didn’t move. Except for the small lift and fall of her shoulders, she hadn’t even twitched since they’d gotten in the car at the Memphis airport.
His knee aching, he climbed out of the SUV he’d rented and opened the back door.
As carefully as he could he lifted and pulled her from the backseat and into his arms. She weighed nothing. Terrifyingly nothing. Like her skin was full of feathers. Her bones made of air.
At some point he’d go to Cora’s and buy some food. All the fattening southern food Cora was growing famous for.
But first Brody planned on sleeping for a day straight. At this moment, so close to the end of this surreal trip around the world, across the country, and somehow unbelievably into his past, he felt the weight of his legs.His arms and eyelids. He had been over twenty-four hours without sleep. And the chemical cocktail of adrenaline and worry was draining out of his body, leaving him exhausted.
He hadn’t been this tired since Afghanistan.
The creak and bang of the back door of the bar opening spun him around. It was Sean of course, standing in a slice of light from the open door. The sound of the bar, of music and the hum of voices, spilled out around him, surrounding him. Gilding him.
Sean had his mother’s red hair and freckles, and looking at him was sort of bittersweet, even after all this time.
“Hey, I thought I heard a car,” Sean said, with a wide smile, and he stepped away from the door and the light. “Let me help with your bags.…” The smile dropped from his face.
“Is that a woman?” Sean asked.
“Yeah.”
“Is she … alive?”
Brody smiled. “Of course.”
“What … ah … did you do?”
“I knocked her out and dragged her here, where I’m planning on chaining her to the wall in the apartment above your bar.”
Christ, he was punchy. He could see it in Sean’s eyes. That sudden bafflement quickly erased by joy, pleasure. Like a dog who realized someone he thought might hit him was actually going to throw a ball instead.
Brody looked away, uncomfortable with all that bald affection. It was like sunlight bouncing off snow—blinding.
“It’s hard to know with you, Brody,” Sean said. “But I suppose if that’s your thing, I’ll try not to turn you in to the cops.”
“She’s a friend,” Brody said. “Who just needs a quiet place to get herself together.”
“And an apartment above a bar is the most logical place?”
“An apartment above a bar that doesn’t do a whole lot of business is.”
“Ouch, man. It’s busier
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