Chapter Two
IT HAD been longer than Jed cared to remember since he’d last had such comforts as running water, a pillow, and real food at his permanent disposal, except for those long weeks in the VA hospital in Boston. These days, he could do without the food, and he’d never liked pillows, but when he finally found himself alone in his new room, a long hot shower did him a world of good.
The resulting staring contest with the mirror was less welcome. Even muted by steam, his reflection haunted him, and the lingering stain of the desert sun did little to hide the vicious scarring on the left side of his body. He touched the marbled patch of skin on his shoulder, burned by the flames he’d failed to roll away from. The skin was thin and strange: rough in some places and like silk in others He tore his gaze away and looked down past the dark tattoo on his arm to the surgical scar that stretched from his hip to halfway down his thigh. It was ten inches long and flanked by two circular scars: entry and exit wounds, grisly reminders of the bullet that had torn through his flesh.
Jed shivered and touched the only scar on his face to distract himself. It was a small wound over his left eyebrow, half an inch wide and a few years old. He didn’t remember much of the incident that had caused it, but he recalled with painful clarity the words of his team medic a few days later.
“Dude, you’re the only motherfucker I know who could lead a mission an hour after getting his head blown off.”
Though Jed’s body was a map of the past decade, each experience indelibly imprinted on his brain, it wasn’t an accolade he was particularly proud of.
He stepped away from the mirror with a heavy sigh, retreated from the bathroom, and spent the remainder of his first night in Ashton watching rain trickle down the windows. A mild storm battered the house and distracted him from the unwelcome quiet until he grew weary enough to find sleep.
Dawn broke a few hours later, and he woke to the smell of synthetic chocolate and the high-pitched chatter of children’s TV. He opened his eyes. An AK47 in his face would have been less of a surprise than the sight of his youngest niece, Tess, curled up next to his pillow. A closer sweep of the room revealed a flowery pink comforter spread over his legs and six-year-old Belle stretched out at his feet. Both girls had their eyes glued to the flat-screen on the dresser.
A rueful smile crept over Jed’s face. The two tiny girls were the only thing that hadn’t sucked about dragging his ass home to Oregon. He’d believed for the longest time he’d never have the chance to know them, and when they’d come bounding down the stairs behind their mother, Kim, Jed could hardly believe his eyes. The girls were like night and day, but they were both utterly beautiful. When Tess had jumped right into his arms the previous evening, he’d felt more alive than he had in years.
“Uncle Jed, do you want to watch Ninja Turtles? It’s on Nickelodeon now. Uncle Max likes Michelangelo.”
Jed blinked. Tess appeared in front of him, so close their noses touched. He shifted slightly, gritting his teeth. He was wide awake, but the stiffness in his lower body told him he wasn’t getting up anytime soon. “Michelangelo? Is that the purple one?”
“No, silly. The purple one is Donatello. Uncle Max says he’s a geek.”
Tess proffered her half-eaten breakfast. Jed waved away the soggy Pop-Tart and eyed the semiviolent martial arts cartoon. He vaguely remembered the original, watched on a dusty, archaic TV set in his ramshackle childhood home just a few streets away. Neither version fit with the pink hearts, butterflies, and random African art that seemed to dominate the rest of his brother’s house.
He ruffled Tess’s hair. “What’s with the turtles? I thought you didn’t like stinky boys?”
Tess shrugged, too young to comprehend the question. Belle said from the foot of the bed, “Uncle Max likes it. He won’t watch girlie shows with us unless he’s being mean to Daddy.”
“Yeah? Is Uncle Max mean to your daddy a lot?”
“Only when he deserves it.” The new voice in the doorway startled Jed. For all his deeply ingrained instincts, he hadn’t heard Kim approach.
“All the time, then, huh?”
Kim grinned. “Pretty much. Girls? That’s enough TV now. Let’s give Uncle Jed some peace.”
Jed pushed himself up on his elbows as Belle and Tess scampered from his bed. Tess cast him a longing look as she reached the doorway. He lifted his hand in a wave. “I’ll see you later, bug, okay?”
The girls disappeared, their tiny feet thundering on the stairs. Kim smiled. “Sorry they woke you. I didn’t think to tell them not to bother you. They’re used to running riot with Max when he sleeps in here. I’m surprised they didn’t draw on your face.”
“It’s okay,” Jed said absently, though he noted the mention of the mysterious Uncle Max again. He had yet to meet Kim’s brother. “I’ve woken up to worse.”
Kim’s smile faded. “I’m sure. Listen, Nick’s gone for the day. He won’t be back until tonight. Do you need anything? Coffee? Breakfast?”
“No, thanks. I’m fine.”
“Are you sure? You didn’t eat dinner.”
Jed shook his head and eased himself upright. He was still trying to figure Kim out. She was attractive, warm and bright, but there was more to her than that—a subtle hardness, and a quick temper that simmered below the surface. Her gentle smile now belied the sharp tone he’d heard from her the night before when Nick had fetched himself yet another beer. She was beauty and grace with the mouth of a sailor, and he couldn’t decide if Nick had struck gold or simply gotten what he deserved.
Kim took the hint and left him alone. He grabbed his last set of clean clothes and made his way to the bathroom, studiously avoiding the mirror. Being mothered was strange. Sara Cooper had died more than twenty years ago. Jed could recall the rare sound of her laughter like he’d heard it yesterday, but her face was dim and faded. Some days that bothered him. Most days it didn’t.
He limped back to his bedroom and froze in the doorway. Something was different. It took him a moment to spot the department store bag and accompanying note on the bed. He ignored the bag and picked up the torn notebook page.
Jed,
I picked up a few things for you. I wasn’t sure how prepared you’d be for the weather here. I had to guess your size, so let me know if I need to return anything.
Kim
“SO, YOU don’t like pussy and you don’t drink beer. Remind me why I’m friends with you?”
Jed tore his gaze from the condensation dripping down his untouched soda. Dan Valesco had been his buddy since he was six years old, and he’d never minced his words. “Fuck you.”
Dan shrugged his broad shoulders with an easy grin. “Aw, you totally would, and who knows? If you’d gotten me drunk enough in high school, I probably would have let you. You know I liked to experiment back then.”
Jed scoffed. Fourteen years hadn’t changed Dan much. He was still the same giant, Ecuadoran idiot he’d always been. Not that Jed minded the good-natured ribbing. Brutal humor had been his companion for so long that Dan’s lack of filter was familiar—comforting, almost—even after the inevitable rehash of the night Jed had bailed on him all those years ago.
Dredging up the past had been harder than Jed had expected. The night he’d left Ashton was something he’d spent more than a decade believing he’d come to terms with. In the dimly lit Portland bar, he suddenly found he was wrong, especially when Dan wouldn’t let it drop.
“So your dad kicked you to the curb? All because Nick told him you were gay?”
Jed made a noncommittal noise, tempering the surge of unwelcome anger in his veins. “I guess.”
“Dude, that fucking sucks. Why didn’t you come to my folks? You know they would’ve taken you in.”
“I wasn’t thinking clearly that night. I was halfway to Georgia before it dawned on me that I didn’t have enough money to come back.”
“You know you could’ve joined the Army in Portland, right? You didn’t have to run so far.”
Jed shrugged. “I wanted to jump out of planes.”
Dan opened his mouth and then shut it again.
An apology festered on the tip of Jed’s tongue, but he bit it back. Recent years had been hell, but he couldn’t bring himself to regret the lifetime he’d spent away from home. He felt at ease with Dan, their friendship as familiar as a pair of old shoes, but it wasn’t enough. Nothing was ever going to be enough, because no matter which way he turned, he knew he didn’t belong in Ashton.
“I can’t believe Nick turned on you. That skinny-ass kid idolized you.”
“Hmm?” In his morose haze, Jed had almost forgotten Dan was there. “Yeah, well. He idolized Frank more. He didn’t know any better.”
Dan’s expression was skeptical. “Your pops has been gone from this town for years. No offense, but your bro’s a bit of a tool. Maybe he always was.”
It was a sentiment Jed had heard before, and for a moment he felt like he’d morphed back in time to a conversation he had long ago in a seedy Turkish bar. His vision darkened as he stared at Dan. The similarities between him and Paul were obvious—both larger than life and louder than hell—but it was something he’d never considered before. Dan was his past, and Paul his present. He supposed they’d switched roles now.
“J?”
“What?”
Dan shifted, his gaze uncharacteristically grave. “Shit, I didn’t mean to piss you off. It’s just… Nick, he’s….”
Jed held up his hand. “Trust me, I get it. He’s an ass.”
Dan’s smirk was brief. He understood. “So…not that I’m complaining, but why did you come back? I’d kinda figured I was never going to see you again.”
Guilt cut another painful path through Jed’s conscience. “I don’t know, man. It seemed like the only option at the time.”
“And now?”
Jed shrugged. His first few days in Ashton had been sleepless, awkward, and tough, but the two cherubic faces that greeted him every morning were nearly enough to convince him to stay. “I have two nieces, so I guess it isn’t all bad.”
Dan grinned. “Yeah, those kids are awesome. If they weren’t so much like you, I’d never believe they came from Nick. Kim’s cool, though. She hangs with my sister sometimes. Carla works at the hospital in Portland. She turned twenty-six last week. Can you believe that shit?”
Jed couldn’t. The last time he’d seen Carla Valesco, she’d been a skinny little kid who hadn’t quite grown into her legs. Then again, the last time he’d seen Dan, he’d been a sports-crazy track star, not the shrewd businessman he was now. The Valesco family auto garage had been on the verge of bankruptcy when Jed left town. It was triple the size now, and thriving.
“Kim’s pretty hot, you know,” Dan said, breaking a silence that stretched too long. “I’ve never figured out why she let herself get saddled with Nick.”
Kim’s face flashed into Jed’s mind, reminding him that he needed to pull some cash from an ATM for the clothes she’d bought him. It had been a week since he’d found them on his bed, and he still hadn’t found the words to thank her. “You know Max?”
“Yeah,” Dan said. “He takes the kids to softball. Tess has got a damned good swing, but Belle won’t play without Max there. Flo’s the best of the lot, though. That girl can catch anything.”
“Flo?”
“His dog,” Dan clarified. “He’s pretty tight with my sister. They used to take their dogs to fly-ball together, before Loki got too old. You haven’t met Max yet?”
Jed shook his head. “No. Nick wants me to rent his spare room, so I guess we’ll cross paths eventually. What’s his story?”
Dan drained the last of his beer and dropped the bottle on the table with a thud. “Now that, I don’t know. No one does, not even my sister, and they’re, like, best friends. All I know is he turned up with your bro one day, started fixing up boats, going to school, and teaching my sister to hide vegetables in my food. They never said why he came here, and I never asked.”
Jed processed the information in his mind. Kim was British—from London, he thought—but as far as he knew, Nick had never left the US.
Interesting.
“Renting his room doesn’t sound like a bad idea, though,” Dan went on when Jed didn’t respond. “Max is a good guy, and I know Kim doesn’t like him being out by the lake on his own.”
Jed opened his mouth to ask why Kim was so worried about her adult brother living alone, but his words were cut off by a loud crash. Jed cut his gaze to a group of close-knit young men who seemed to be looking anywhere but at him. Ambush? Sniper? No. He looked again, spotting a lone man with a cell phone pressed to his ear. Remotely detonated bomb? The mounted flat-screen TV caught his eye, and the muted ball game and distinctly American rock music filtered into his brain.
Yeah, or maybe you’re just a freak.
It took all of ten seconds for Jed to scramble unsteadily to his feet, and the cacophony of ridiculous scenarios to run through his mind. By that time, Dan was beside him.
He put his hand on Jed’s arm. “Come on, dude. Let’s go home.”