Buried (Bone Secrets, #3)(87)

“You’re gonna be everywhere. Everyone is going to want a piece of you and Brian.”

His brother shifted in his seat. “I know.”

“Is that what you want?”

Chris was silent.

Michael pulled the Range Rover under the house, found an empty spot next to a sedan, and parked. Four other vehicles silently filled other parking slots. One looked like his father’s Mercedes, but Michael wasn’t certain. They all looked alike to him. He turned to his brother.

“Is that what you want? Do you want the hoopla? Can you handle the exposure and press?”

Chris turned to him, his eyes hard and determined. “No, I don’t want all that shit,” he said hoarsely. “What I want is my family back. I want to go for beers with you and talk till they close the bar down. I want to go camping and scare the crap out of you in the middle of the night with cheesy sounds and shadows like I used to. I want Brian to sit on the floor in front of the Christmas tree while Jamie and Cecilia take pictures and spoil him with every holiday cookie they can bake. That’s what I want. I don’t want all the other crap.”

The wave of emotion poured out of Chris and slapped Michael in the face. He blinked. Hard. The brothers stared at each other.

“Mom is sick,” Michael said. “Did you know that?”

Chris paled. “How sick?”

“It’s bad. She needs a new kidney. She doesn’t get out much these days. She resigned at the hospital. She’s still on all the big boards, of course, but she doesn’t make it to the meetings.” Michael studied his brother. Does Chris think of her as his mother still?

Chris was silent. Michael could see thoughts spinning through his head.

How did it feel to know the mother you haven’t seen in two decades was extremely ill?

“I want to see her. Today. Once we talk to the senator, I want to go see her today,” he repeated.

To Michael, the words sounded difficult for Chris. How hard was it for him to step out of his cocoon of protection? Seeing their mother and explaining his story was a huge step.

Michael finally spoke. “We’ll make that Christmas scene happen. I have no doubt.”

“I’m gonna have to choose,” Chris said. “I don’t know if I can survive the publicity.”

Determination to protect his little brother welled up in Michael. Here was something he could do for his brother. Finally. “Leave that part to me.”

Uncertainty filled Chris’s gaze. “We’ll see. I’ll know what I need to do when it starts happening.”

Michael put his hand on the door. “Are you coming upstairs?”

Chris glanced in the backseat. “I’m gonna stay here. Let him sleep.”

Michael nodded. His brother wasn’t ready to face his father yet. But he would do it. On his own time. At least he was ready to see their mother.

“Okay. Come on up if he wakes or you feel like it. I don’t know how long this will take.”



Chris watched Michael jog across the parking garage toward the stairs, and he felt like a big *. He was going to have to face the senator. Soon. But waking him up first thing in the morning didn’t seem the right way to accomplish it. And they needed to see Cecilia. Chris had already lost one set of parents after not seeing them for years. He wasn’t going to let that happen again. If Cecilia was as ill as Michael said, Chris needed to see her now. She deserved to know her son was still alive.

Had he done the right thing? Should he have contacted them years ago?

He blew out a lungful of air and relaxed into the seat. The soft breathing in the backseat calmed him.

He’d done what he had to do. Sure enough, the Ghostman had proved that he’d still been out there and had been keeping an eye out for him. If he’d suddenly decided to tell the world who he really was, he could have risked the lives of all the Brodys.

But now he was going to put an end to the Ghost. He and Michael weren’t going to give up until Jamie was back and the Ghost was gone. Then Brian would be safe.

Chris frowned. Would there ever be a time he could let Brian out of his sight and be relaxed? He couldn’t keep an eye on the boy forever. What if Michael wanted to take him out for ice cream? Would he let Brian go?

Chris’s stomach churned.

But this was Michael. Michael would protect the boy with his life. Chris had no doubt. But would he be diligent in watching him?

It just took one second. One second where your gaze was distracted and things happened to a child. He rubbed his wet palms on his shorts. Christ. He needed therapy.

If he was going to jump back into the mainstream, he would need to let Brian have some space. He’d taught him well. The boy knew how to be careful and not to trust strangers.

But he’s a child.

Chris closed his eyes and tipped his head against the seat. What he really wanted to do was bang it against the wall. He knew what was right. He knew what to do. But the thought of doing it was making him ill. Time to grow a pair.

A faint thumping sound made his eyes open. He turned to look at Brian. All quiet.

The sound thumped again. Twice.

He scanned the parking garage, every nerve in his body on alert. Who else was in the garage? The garage was well lit, brighter than the hazy morning outside the walls. No one moved.

Thumping.

A movement out of the corner of his eye jolted his gaze to the adjacent sedan. Did that car just move? No one was in the seats. Chris stretched a bit to see down into the foot area of the backseat, but couldn’t. He glanced at Brian and opened his door.