Calmly, Carefully, Completely(4)

Logan lets me go, and I look at Matt. He looks so healthy he’s glowing. “Speaking of haircuts,” I say, pulling on a lock of his hair. “When do you think you might get one?”

He cuffs me gently on the side of my head and pulls me into his shoulder. God, I have missed them.

“We’re going to start calling you Goldilocks,” I warn. We’re all blond, and some of us are more blond than others.

“Try it, asswipe,” he jokes as he punches my shoulder. “It’s been a long time since we’ve had a good match.”

Emily wraps her arm around my forearm and squeezes. “I think you’re bigger than when you went in,” she says.

“Not much else to do but work out and read.” I shrug.

“I can still take you,” Logan says. He flexes his muscles. It’s so good to hear him speak.

Logan was injured in a car accident right after I went to jail, and he almost died. I wanted to go to him so badly. But they wouldn’t let me out. “I heard you’re an old man with a limp now.” I duck when he tries to grab my head for a noogie, and I dance away from him.

“Nothing about me is limp,” he says with a chuckle. “Right, Emily?” he says, grinning. She punches him in the arm. He bends at the waist and tosses her over his shoulder. She squeals and beats on his butt, but he pays her no mind. He never does when they do this. He starts toward the subway so we can go home. The rest of us follow.

Emily gives up and dangles there over Logan’s shoulder. She’s right by my face, so I lean in and kiss her on the cheek. “You all right?” she asks quietly. It’s f*cking ridiculous the way she’s just bobbing there.

“It’s good to be going home,” I admit. “Strange, but good.”

She wraps her hands around her mouth and whispers dramatically. “We have beer at the apartment! For your birthday!”

I grin. I spent my twenty-first birthday behind bars. But I had a feeling they wouldn’t let it pass by without some kind of celebration. “Just beer?” I whisper back playfully.

She winks. “There might be some other stuff, too. Like wine.”

My brothers don’t do anything more than drink occasionally. “Is there cake?” I ask.

She nods. “Sam made it.” Sam’s the baker in the family. It’s too bad he had to play football to earn his way into college because he’d make a damn fine baker. And he’d be happier doing it.

“So he was home this weekend?” Hearing that he was home this weekend but he’s not there now is like a knife to my gut. It f*cking hurts. I can’t say I blame him, though.

She nods, and she does that thing she does where she doesn’t look me in the face. She’d be terrible at poker because she can’t lie worth shit.

“How long do you think he’ll avoid me?” I ask.

Matt looks over at me, his face searching mine, but he doesn’t answer my question either.





Reagan



I sit in my dad’s truck and drum my thumb on the steering wheel along with the music. I dropped Dad off an hour ago, and he sent me on an errand because he hates the idea of me sitting outside a prison by myself. I finished his errand, and now I’m waiting. He can’t fault me for that, can he?

I freeze when I see three tatted-up men walk by where I’m parked. They’re blond and huge. But one of them is holding hands with a girl, a pretty lady with dirty-blond hair. I sit up taller and watch them. They’re friendly with one another, and you can almost see how happy they are to be together. The one holding hands with the girl slaps her on the bottom and runs from her, and she streaks off after him until she can jump on his back. She leans forward and kisses him on the cheek. He puts her down because she’s signing something to him. My heartbeat stutters. This is the family. I’m almost certain of it. They’re Peter Reed’s brothers.