Beautiful Sacrifice (Maddox Brothers #3)(59)

Taylor pulled our bags from the backseat, and then we made our way up the steps. He hugged his father and then whom I assumed to be his brother since they looked so much alike.

“Falyn, this is my dad, Jim Maddox.”

Jim reached for my hand, and I took it.

“Nice to meet you,” I said.

He had the kindest eyes I’d ever seen, next to Chuck and Phaedra. They were patient and a bit excited and curious, too.

“This is my brother Travis and my sister-in-law, Abby.”

I shook Travis’s hand and then Abby’s. Her long caramel hair cascaded over her shoulders, much like mine. She was shorter than me, and Travis was taller than Taylor. Travis was smiling, happy simply to meet me, but Abby closely watched me, taking in every detail, likely wondering what was special about me that had led Taylor to bring me home.

“Well, it’s getting late. Let’s get you settled in,” Jim said.

The screen door complained as he pulled it open, and I followed Taylor inside.

The home was well worn. The carpets looked a lot like mine, and the furniture was so old that each piece had its own story to tell. The hallway opened up into the kitchen with a set of stairs on the other side.

“You two can take Thomas’s room,” Jim said. “We’ll see you back down here for dinner. Abby and Trav cooked.”

Taylor arched a brow. “Should I be afraid?”

Abby batted at his arm.

“All right,” Taylor said. “We’ll put our stuff away and see you in a second. Where’s Trent?”

“Chicken Joe’s tonight,” Jim said.

“He’s still doing that, huh?” Taylor said, glancing at me for half a second.

“Just about once a week now,” Jim said.

Travis and Abby left us for the kitchen, and Taylor took my hand, guiding me up the stairs and down another hall. He stopped at the last door on the right and twisted the knob, pushing through.

Taylor set the bag down on a loose board, making it creak and reveal itself beneath the carpet.

I hadn’t stayed over with friends very often as a child, and leaving for college had been difficult. Moving in above the Bucksaw had been a relief but also stressful. I never did well in foreign places, but the disrepair and decades-old furniture and wallpaper felt like a place I could call home.

My palm fell flat against my forehead. “I can’t believe I’m here. They’re just next door.”

“I can’t believe you’re here either,” Taylor said, reverence in his voice.

The bedroom was decorated with plastic sports trophies, medals, old pictures, and a blanket of dust. The whole house smelled of dinner, stale smoke, and a hint of men’s aftershave.

I took a step toward the wall, the setting sun glinting off a portrait of a very young Jim and Taylor’s mother, Diane.

“Where is she?” I asked, turning to him. “Your mom.”

Taylor rubbed the back of his neck. “She’s … not here. She passed away when I was a kid.”

My mouth fell open, and I snapped it shut. “Why haven’t you told me?”

“It hasn’t come up.”

“It sure as hell has—at least twice. All that talk about trusting each other, and you failed to mention that you grew up without a mother?”

Taylor let his hand fall to his thigh. “I don’t like to talk about it. It’s kind of like the twin thing. People see me differently when they know.”

“Who gives two f*cks and a shit about someone who might think less of you because your mother died?”

He laughed once.

“I’m serious,” I said. “You should have told me.”

“Why?”

“Because we’re friends.”

He stared at me, hurt. “Really? We’re going to hinge our friendship on sharing? Because I only have a vague idea of why you’re here.”

“Was it an accident?” I asked.

He shook his head. “Cancer.”

“Jesus. That’s awful.”

He pointed at me. “That look on your face right now is why I didn’t tell you.” He began unpacking our things, pulling them out of the bags as if he hated them.

“You’re lucky I didn’t ask your dad where she was. I would never have forgiven you.”

He sighed. “I didn’t think about that. You’re right. I’m sorry.”