Jackson Stiles, Road to Redemption (Road to Redemption #1)(64)

“I thought you were─”

“Wrong.”

“Sorry, dude.” Nick punches me in the arm, and I raise my other hand because f*cking ow. Why is everyone beating me the f*ck up lately?

Upstairs, he closes the door behind him and gets quiet.

“Look, Jackie.”

I turn and give him what Ma would call the stink eye. One of these days I’ll deck his ass when he calls me that.

He gives me a half smile, half you-sunk-my-battleship, kinda look. “First of all, I’m sorry about last night. I shouldn’t have pushed you to go over there, and─”

I stop him before this can get any mushier than it needs to be. I know what it’s like to push people into doing shit then regretting it like hell later on.

“Don’t worry about it. Already forgotten.”

“I doubt that. But thanks.”

“Wanna drink?” God knows I need one.

I head for the kitchen.

“It’s six-thirty, Jackson.”

“But it’s─”

“Five o’clock somewhere.” He finishes the saying before I can, and we laugh for a second at the old days. It’s not long before he’s serious again, though.

“You trying to give Dad a run for his money?” He nods toward the bottle. I stop pouring the shot of tequila when he says it.

I take a breath. Then I do the shot.

“Just trying to keep on keeping on, Nick. I’m nothing like him.” I point at him. “So don’t ever f*cking say that shit to me again.”

“When are you gonna do it?” His eyes search mine for something that’s not there anymore.

“What?” I’m being a dick here. I know what he means.

“Move on.”

It stings to think about it.

For a split second, my heart wants to rip right through my chest.

So no. I’m not doing this.

“There another reason you stopped by, bro? Or did you just feel like waking my ass up early for the fun of it.”

His phone goes off, and Nick’s face turns into a scowl when he reads whatever message he just got. I see what Green’s always talking about with me—between his brows—the crease. Like he’s stressed.

Maybe he is here for something else.

“Nick?”

His expression changes, and he’s snapped out of whatever thoughts he was letting take over.

“Right. On the way in, I heard about Lilah.”

Shit. Of course he’d hear. It totally makes sense why he stopped by now. My demeanor changes from irritated to solemn.

“Yeah. It’s f*cked.” That calls for another drink. So I pour one.

Here’s to you, kid.

I drink it.

“Yeah, it is. They have any idea who did it?”

“You’d know the answer to that before I did.”

“Do, uh, you have any idea who did it?”

I look him in the eye so he can get that crazy ass idea out of his head.

“No, Nick. I don’t. I saw her outside Lana’s office, and we didn’t talk. Next thing I know, she’s face down in my parking lot.”

“It’s only a matter of time before they figure out she’s connected to you, ya know.”

“Yeah, and I’ll be sure to have all of my f*cking ducks in a row when they do.”

He breathes easier and nods. “Okay, cool. I just wanted to─”

“Make sure I’m not as big a f*ck up as they say, I know.”

“I didn’t say that.”

I pour another drink and silently toast to him.

“You didn’t have to.”

A grimace spreads across his lips.

Hell, I know he feels bad, but it’ll be forgotten in about five minutes. Or as soon as he walks out the door. Whichever comes first.

“Ya know what? Sorry I bugged ya, man.” He claps his hands together. “And next time, I promise, no means no.” He goes to punch me in the arm again. I swat his hand away this time before opening the door for him.

“Keep in touch, bro.” He gives me a weak smile as he leaves, and I promise to follow orders, knowing I won’t.

I watch him as he makes his way back down the stairs and to his cruiser. Before he leaves, though, he clears the tape away from the murder scene and stuffs it into the back of his car.

Mother hen, indeed.

In the bedroom, I lay the f*ck down and close my eyes. Despite how desperately I try to avoid it, I think of Mikey and one of the many times I gave him advice that probably set him on a course for death.

As unconsciousness engulfs me, I hear his voice, and I feel the pang from the feeling of steering him wrong once again.

“Do you think Dad’s gonna be happy I’m joining the force?”

He was trying on my old academy gear the night he found out he was accepted. He couldn’t wait to tell our parents when they got home. The kid was always trying his best to make Dad proud of him. This was his shot.

“Are you happy?” I don’t know why I even asked. I already knew the answer.

My little bro shrugged and checked himself in the mirror.

“I can always draw as a hobby.”

It bothered me the way he chose to put his dreams on the backburner for dear old dad.

See, Nick joined Redemption’s police force because it’s in his blood. It always has been. I joined because I followed Nick every f*cking where he went. It wasn’t really about what I thought he or Dad wanted me to do. It was about how much time I could spend pestering the shit out of my big brother, and bonus, I’d get to beat the shit out of bad guys.