Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)(48)

“You did?” Now she wants the real story?

It’s more than that, though. She’s wondering why her source lied.

Welcome to Redemption, Green.

“I did. Now, can we drop it?”

“Four years of college and two at the academy wasted.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t say that, Dad. I got that gold star for attendance, remember?”

Nick shakes his head. Ma looks down at her plate and Dad—he’s discussed it enough, I guess.

He points at Green with his butter knife.

“Reminds me of June.” He nudges Ma. I can’t believe he just said that shit. Neither can the rest of the table.

No one makes a peep. Except for Dad.

“Remember June, Karen?” He elbows her.

“Of course, Frank,” Her voice is soft and low. There’s pain behind it. I want to deck his ass.

“Who’s June?” Green asks me as she chooses a drumstick. She’s interested to hear who it is she’s being compared to. I don’t have the balls to tell her, though.

“Mikey’s girl,” Dad answers. He’s the only one eating now. Even Nick has put his fork down. Mia’s smile has diminished, and the boys are curious but oblivious.

Lucky them.

“And Mikey is…” she fishes with a curious grin playing at her lips.

Silence weighs heavy on the room. The only sound is Dad shoving green beans into his mouth.

“Boys, why don’t you go get some more sweet tea for the table.”

“But—”

“Go.” Mia’s mom-voice is damn near as good as Ma’s.

That’s scary.

They get up and go, and I try to swallow down the lump in my throat along with the disgust that follows it. In the end, it’s Nick who finally answers her.

“That’s, um, our little brother, Emma.” He clears the phlegm out of his throat and pushes his plate away.

“Wow,” she looks over at me. “Another one of you? I can’t wait to meet this one. Where is he?”

How is she not getting it yet?

I down the rest of my drink and focus on someone else.

Dad. Who looks like he’s about to engage.

Maybe he realizes what he’s said, maybe not. Either way, the expression on his face as he meets my stare tells me the same thing it has every time he’s looked at me for about ten years now.

“No, you don’t get to see him tonight,” Dad tells her as he shoots daggers into my head.

“Oh. Why? Doesn’t he live in Redemption?”

She’s still clueless, but she’s beginning to see this is a touchy subject at least.

Me? Well, I’ve about had it with playing family for the night. Guest or no guest.

“He’s dead, Green.” I put her curiosity out of its misery and stand. With the pristine, white linen Ma’s used since the dawn of time, I wipe my mouth and toss the napkin onto the table.

I’m outta here. I don’t give a shit if that means I have to walk home.

“Thanks for dinner, Ma.” I turn to the old man. “Happy f*cking birthday, Pop. Sorry, I’m alive.” My feet fly for the door. I grab my jacket on the way out.

“Jackson.” Someone’s voice calls after me as I head out the front door. Probably Ma. Next thing I know, that someone is at my side, grabbing ahold of my arm in fifty-degree weather with no coat on.

“Stiles, I’m sorry, I didn’t─”

Green?

I push past my confusion of why is she out here? And put a cork in the guilt trip she’s beginning to have.

“You wouldn’t know. It’s not your fault. Don’t worry about it. Go inside.” I pull the cig out of my pocket and stick it in my mouth.

“No.” She’s stubborn like that. Even though she has absolutely nothing else to say right now, she stands there, waiting for me to… Hell I don’t know what she’s waiting for.

She takes the cigarette out of my mouth as a gust of wind blows through the yard. It shakes some branches on the oak tree. I look up and see the remnants of our old tree house pretty far up there. What’s left of it anyway.

It used to be so damn huge.

I take my cigarette back and house it in my pocket.

Her eyes narrow and her head tilts and I know I’m in trouble because she’s thinking about something. Every time this woman thinks I get into f*cking trouble.

“That’s the grave you wanted me to go see.”

Ding ding ding ding! Winner Johnny. Tell her what she’s won.

“I take it you didn’t.”

She shakes her head. “I had a deadline.”

Of course she did.

“How did he die?” she asks, the reporter in her taking over. More trouble.

“Accident,” Nick tells her as he joins us. His voice is soft. An apology, maybe. I don’t f*cking know.

“What were you thinking tonight?” I raise my voice, forgetting Green is even there. Nick takes a defensive stance.

“What was I thinking?”

“You what, thought this was the night, Nick? The one when everything would magically f*cking fix itself? Thought you’d invite my… Green over here and make Dad join in on this oh so happy f*cking day because—”

“Jackie—”