CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

Ryan turned off the engine in his truck, hopped out, and headed inside the convenience store off the highway. He grabbed a bottle of water, walked to the counter, then nodded to the cashier.

His brother.

“That’ll be $1.21.”

“No family discount?” he joked.

Marcus smiled and shook his head. “Sorry, man.”

The convenience store was empty, so Ryan rested his hip against the counter, opened the bottle, and took a gulp. He tapped the plastic. “Can I treat you to a water? It’s hot as hell outside.”

“Sure.”

He returned to the cold shelves, grabbed another bottle, paid for it, too, then handed it to the guy who he used to think was stalking his family. Now he was getting to know the kid. They weren’t instant buddies, and Ryan hadn’t signed the two of them up for Kumbaya-with-your-long-lost-bro classes. But Ryan did want to get to know Marcus, so he was trying to do it in a natural way. He’d taken him to lunch yesterday, the day after they’d met, and Marcus had told him he worked here at this store, saving money for community college, and that he was living with friends.

Which made Ryan wonder if the kid was on the outs with his dad.

His dad was another reason Ryan was here today.

“Listen, Marcus,” he said, as a car pulled up to a gas pump in the lot. “I want to see your dad. I need to talk to Luke because I really want to get some info about the affair and about the pregnancy, and see if it played into why my mom killed my dad.” Those words—they tasted like dry stones on his tongue. For so long he’d believed his mom might be innocent, but he’d been coming to terms and to peace with her guilt. Still, he was determined to help solve the case, and do everything he could to help find the other men involved.

Or at least to learn what had motivated his mother. The better he understood that, the greater the chance the cops had of nailing the other guys. T.J. and Kenny Nelson hadn’t been found yet, and John had said he was still gathering evidence. By all accounts those two had left a trail of destruction behind them over the years, and Ryan’s chest burned with rage over the fact that two killers—as far as he was concerned, they were killers—were walking free.

If it were up to Ryan, he’d have knocked on Luke’s door already, banged hard with his fist, and demanded some fucking answers from the man who’d screwed his mother behind his father’s back then hid the kid he had with her. But he couldn’t do that now. It wouldn’t be fair to Marcus.

“You want to talk to him?” Marcus repeated.

“I want to see what he knows. But to do that,” Ryan said, gesturing from the kid back to himself, “I’d have to let him know I know about you.”

Marcus shook his head. Adamantly. “No. Please no.”

Ryan tilted his head, his radar going off, detecting fear in Marcus’s eyes. “Why? He told you about your mom. You said it wasn’t a secret.”

“I know. But he doesn’t know I talked to you guys.”

“Are you going to tell him?”

“He would freak.”

“Are you sure?” Ryan was asking for himself, but for Marcus, too. He didn’t want to see this kid heading down the path of secrets like Ryan had done.

“I just don’t think he’d be happy about it. He was worried for so long, and I didn’t tell him I was going to meet you guys. I haven’t seen him much since I moved out.”

“Why not?”

Marcus shoved a hand through his hair. “We don’t always agree. That’s all I can say. If he knows I’m talking to you, then he’s going to worry about Stefano’s friends. About Kenny and T.J. He’s going to think they’ll come after my sisters and my mom.”

“But is that a real threat? If it is, maybe we need to deal with it, rather than ignore it,” Ryan said in a calm voice. “I can help you with that, you know. That’s the business I’m in.”

Marcus leaned forward and placed his palms on the counter. “See, I have no idea. All I know is he’s terrified of Stefano’s friends. I heard him talk to my stepmom when I was younger, telling her those guys threatened him—that if he said anything they’d go after him. He’s made them out to be the bogeyman. Hell, the other day some dude with a goatee came in here chomping on potato chips and bitching about not having an iPhone, and for a split second, I started thinking he was one of them.”

“Because he didn’t have an iPhone?” Ryan asked, knitting his brow.

“No,” Marcus said, shaking his head. “Because he was…I don’t know. He just seemed the type of guy who’d stir shit up. That’s all.”

“Fine, I hear you. He set off your radar, and you gotta listen to that. But you really should talk to the detective. Are you going to?”

“I will. Soon. I was supposed to, but had to cancel because I got called into work, and then my car was in the shop. I know I need to see him.”

“Are you worried your dad doesn’t want you to talk to him?”

“I don’t know,” Marcus said, barely audible.

Ryan had no choice but to relent. He didn’t know Luke Carlton well enough to understand how he affected Marcus. But he’d have to work with this wrinkle, not against it.

“Hey, do you want to come over for dinner sometime?” he asked, his voice dry and crackly. It was an awkward request, and he wasn’t honestly sure what to do with it. But Sophie had insisted he ask, so he was doing it.

Marcus’s eyes lit up. “That’d be cool.”

“I’ll make sure to invite the whole crew. Michael, Shan, Brent. We can have Colin and Elle, and Alex, too. If you’d like.”

“I would,” he said with a smile.

He had the sense that Marcus had been missing something his whole life, and it wasn’t his biological mother. It was a connection to the rest of his family. That was easy enough for Ryan to give. He left as a new customer walked in to pay for gas.

* * *

After the customer left, Marcus dropped his forehead to the register. His heart beat furiously as if he’d been sprinting. His hands were clammy. That was what talking about his dad did to him.

Freaked him the fuck out. Damn near set off an anxiety attack.

He couldn’t tell his dad that he’d found the Sloans. He just couldn’t take the chance yet. He’d already taken a big enough risk meeting them. But knowing they existed had gnawed at him for years, and he’d longed to know them, especially since he’d never been close with his father.

He didn’t agree with the decisions his father had made. At the same time though, his father had raised him and taken care of him. He’d been a decent enough dad.

His phone buzzed and he looked up. His stepmom had texted. How did you do on your math test? Any results yet? Fingers crossed.

His heartbeat turned more regular as he wrote back. Got ’em earlier today. Aced it!

An emoticon-filled reply landed on his screen. Sundaes at Baskin Robbins to celebrate with the girls?

He replied with a yes, reminding himself that he had to think of her and his sisters. It had been one thing for him to reach out to his family on his mother’s side, but it would be entirely another for him to try to arrange some sort of a reintroduction of Ryan to his father.

Nope. Couldn’t do it. Couldn’t go there. His dad didn’t want to revisit the past. Besides, there were too many people who wanted a piece of his dad, like Stefano’s friends. His father had taught him to fear them. To keep quiet. They were rogue, uncontrollable men.

The bells rang and he raised his face. A hot blonde wearing tight shorts wandered in. She bought a cherry Slushee and started drinking it as he rang her up. Her pretty lips on the straw made him stop thinking about his family for now.