Braydon(14)

Brendon had approached her as the party was winding down to tell her that they needed to talk. Feeling a little guilty about what the three of them had done, Jessie hadn’t put up much of an argument. When he insisted that they go back to his house so they could hash things out with Braydon as well, Jessie had finally relented. Thinking back on that night now, she wished she could’ve been a little stronger, because what happened after that had been devastating.

“What the f*ck!” Brendon exclaimed as Jessie followed him into the house after they’d arrived from leaving Zane and V’s reception.

“What’s wrong?” she asked, glancing around to see what could’ve gotten Brendon all worked up after taking just a few steps inside. At first she was fearful that something bad had happened—a break-in, or worse . . .

“Braydon’s gone,” Brendon declared.

Was that some sort of twin thing? How did he know just by walking into the house?

“Like gone to the store?” she asked inanely, knowing good and damn well that wasn’t what Brendon was talking about.

His answering glare said it all.

Rather than risk pissing him off more, she moved toward Braydon’s bedroom, peeking in the doorway. Sure enough, his bed was made and his cowboy hat and the scraggly John Deere cap he favored were gone. But other than that, there was no sign that he’d done more than go to the store or even out for a beer if, in fact, he wasn’t there. Maybe he was in the shower. Or the backyard.

“How do you know he’s gone?” she asked when it was clear Brendon wasn’t going to explain.

Brendon simply nodded his head toward the mantel. Jessie squinted in the direction Brendon motioned and then looked back at him. Okay, she would need him to explain now because she had no idea what he was talking about.

“He took the pictures.”

“What pictures?”

“The ones of us, the one of our parents, the one of the whole family together,” he rattled off. “Need me to make that any clearer?”

Wow. All this time, she hadn’t paid much attention, but now that the frames were missing, the mantel did look a little empty.

Before Brendon could continue on his rant, Jessie responded abruptly, “Okay, I get it.”

She hadn’t meant to reply so sharply, but suddenly her chest hurt. Badly. The thought of Braydon leaving . . . She’d never even considered that an option, especially not after what had happened between them tonight. Although she had felt the tension between the three of them for the past few months, she had hoped that tonight was a turning point for them. So for him to leave . . .

Jessie worked her way to the other side of the room, purposely putting a little distance between her and the angry man glaring at her from near the front door. “Where would he go?” she asked, ignoring the conspicuously empty mantel and turning to face Brendon again.

“No f*cking clue,” he snapped. “God damn it!”

Jessie had no idea what to say to him then. She felt the heat of his aggravation directed at her, and she knew he was looking for someone to blame. Hell, she was looking for someone to blame, too.

“You need to go,” Brendon finally said, and his words were like a slap in her face.

Jessie stared at him, her feet suddenly feeling too heavy to move as she nodded her head in agreement. She did need to leave. She knew it as well as Brendon did, but . . . Oh, God.

She knew that the moment she stepped out the door, life as she’d known it since the night she met Braydon and Brendon would come to a screeching halt.

But that’s exactly what she did.

And that was exactly what had happened. Aside from the Sunday dinners she was invited to by Lorrie and Curtis, Jessie hadn’t had much contact with Brendon for the last three months. Brendon wasn’t going out of his way to talk to her, and she wasn’t making an effort to talk to him, either.

And the fact that Braydon was still gone was slowly killing her.

“Have you tried calling him?” Kylie asked.

Knowing Kylie was back on the subject of Braydon, Jessie frowned at her sister, who stopped Jessie’s spoon midspin.

“Well? Have you?”

“No,” she bit out. “Not this week. Not last week. Not the week before that . . .” Jessie had given up on trying to get a hold of Braydon four painfully long weeks ago. She’d become pathetic with her repeated voice messages and her frequent texts to a man who she had mistakenly thought had cared about her. And in return, the only thing she got was complete radio silence from Braydon.

Kylie sighed heavily as she dropped into her chair.

“Enough about me. I didn’t come all the way out here to chat about Braydon. How are you doing?” Jessie asked, desperate to change the subject.

“Tired,” Kylie admitted, a gleam in her eye.

“Don’t even go there. I don’t want to know how those boys are keeping you up all hours of the night,” Jessie exclaimed. Staring disbelievingly at her sister, she added, “Are they still keeping you up all hours of the night?”

Okay, so she did want to know. After all, the highlight of her days was generally living vicariously through her sister’s many stories of love and happiness.

“Of course not,” Kylie said, laughing as she nodded her head affirmatively. “Yes. Yes, they are. They’re insatiable, Jess. I just don’t know what I’m going to do with them.”