The Departed

side, sniffling delicately—all without ruining her makeup, Brendan noticed. Classy bitch—that was Jacqueline. She wasn’t his mom—his mom was dead. Jacqueline was nothing more than a brainless bimbo who’d fuck his father’s friends in exchange for favors. Brendan wasn’t supposed to know, of course, but he did. He knew all sorts of shit about his dad.
    And he bet his dad knew exactly what had happened last night with Beau, too. Looking down at the table, he waited until he had a few tears in his eyes and then he looked up. With his voice shaking, he said, “What happened, Dad? Was…is this my fault? We…we had an argument, you know. Nothing’s been right ever since Tristan died. Beau was in one of his moods and wanted to get drunk and I didn’t…” He closed his eyes and shook his head. “Man, I shouldn’t say this.”
    “Come on, buddy. You can tell me anything.”
    He gave his dad a tremulous smile. “Yeah. I know. Beau was talking about taking some of his dad’s liquor again. I didn’t want to. We yelled at each other.” He reached up and probed his eye, gave his dad a sheepish smile. “This…well, it wasn’t from me and Kyle wrestling around like I said. It was Beau. I told him I wasn’t going to let him get my ass in any more trouble and he called…” He shot Jacqueline a nervous look. “He called me a pussy. I shoved him and he hit me. I told him—sorry, Dad—I told him to fuck off and then I got out of the car and headed over to Kyle’s. I…he didn’t have a wreck or anything, did he? Was it my fault? I know he’s screwed up in the head. Maybe I should have…”
    “It wasn’t a wreck.” Joshua patted his hand. “It was an accident—a terrible one, but I think he got drunk and just fell asleep.”
    “Thank God for that girl Tiffany,” Jacqueline said, her voice soft. She shot her husband a quick look and then lowered her gaze, sighing. “She’s like his angel or something.”
    Brendan felt the hair on the back of his neck go up. “Tiffany?”
    Both of them gave him an odd look and it wasn’t until then that he realized he’d said it all wrong. Giving them a weak smile, he said, “I’m just all messed up. I want to go see him. Can I?”
    “I don’t know yet,” his dad said, sighing. “I’ll have to make some calls and see.”
    “Okay.” He licked his lips and then, careful not to let anything show in his voice, he said, “What did Tiffany do? And what happened to Beau, anyway?”
    “He fell asleep in the garage with his car running. Or maybe he passed out.” The man sighed, looking exhausted. “I don’t know. But for some reason, Tiffany was in the area and she heard his car.”
    “That engine,” Jacqueline murmured. “It’s hard not to hear it.”
    “Yes. She ended up breaking the side window and going into the garage, opening up the door. If he lives, it’s going to be because of her.”
    That little bitch .
    * * *
     
    SURREAL wasn’t a word that normally belonged in Taylor Jones’s vocabulary, but today it did. The logical, normal part of his brain kept trying to intrude, but for once, the rest of him was louder, able to silence that logical, normal part of him.
    Even now, as he trailed along behind Dez through the frost-covered grass, his brain was only half focused on the job. The rest of him was thinking about everything but the job.
    Was he really going to do this? Try for some sort of relationship with her? Was she really going to give him that chance? Had he lost his fucking mind ? Those were the thoughts eating up the other half of his brain as they walked through the meadow.
    Still, half a brain was enough to notice when she tensed up and stopped. Under the beat-up leather coat, her shoulders were tense. Her head slumped. Her hands, hanging at her sides, curled into fists so tight, her knuckles were bloodless.
    A soft, nearly soundless moan escaped her and everything in him demanded that he go to her.
    But he didn’t—couldn’t—because that could too easily break the connection. So as much as he wanted to grab her against him and keep her away from whatever was hurting her, he shoved his hands into his pockets and held still, watching.
    Watching her so closely, he knew the exact moment she started to tremble, the exact moment she started to sway.
    Oh, fuck —
    He lunged forward just before she would have hit the ground. Catching her shoulders, he pulled her back, bracing her against him and staring down at her face. Her