Fury on Fire (Devil's Rock #3)(32)

“If things slow down or work becomes thin at the garage, you know we could use help at Roscoe’s,” Knox reminded him. Roscoe had been their great-grandfather’s name. He’d opened the bar right after prohibition ended. The place went way back. It was an institution in these parts, and the reins had fallen to Knox to run it. Knox was good at it. It was like the place was in Knox’s blood. Even if Knox hadn’t gone to prison and he had finished college, North could see him doing just what he was doing right now. Running Roscoe’s. Married to a nice girl and living at the farmhouse. He grimaced. He guessed for some people shit was able to just roll off them.

Briar closed her fingers around Knox’s forearm. “We hope you’ll come more often for Sunday dinner. It’s been a while since your last visit.”

He glanced around the place he’d grown up in with Uncle Mac and Aunt Sissy. It looked different. More light and airy. The furniture updated. His uncle had moved into town with his sister, Alice. It was closer to the hospital and all his doctor’s appointments. Uncle Mac had had to start dialysis a few months back and he had regular appointments to keep. In addition, he’d insisted the house was too big for him, and Knox and Briar needed their own space as a married couple.

“Especially now,” Knox added, his voice taking on a strange quality.

North was in the process of stirring his mashed potatoes and gravy together. He paused and looked up, his gaze drifting back and forth between his brother and sister-in-law. “Why especially now?”

Knox glanced at his wife, lacing his fingers over hers. He then looked back to North. “We’re having a baby.”

The meatloaf and mashed potatoes in his stomach suddenly turned to lead.

“I’m due in October,” Briar volunteered, looking giddy with excitement, her eyes shining.

“That’s great,” he said numbly. “Congratulations.” Did his voice sound as tinny to them as it did to him? His brother was going to have a baby. He was going to be a dad.

Knox stared at him intently, his eyes piercing. “We want you around, North. Around more. You’re going to be an uncle, and we want you to be the baby’s godfather—”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, do you?” he blurted before he had time to think how harsh that sounded. He usually tried to pretend. He tried to hide the empty shell that he’d become from his brother and sister-in-law because he didn’t want them worried and all over his case. When he first got out of prison, Knox was on him to meet with a counselor. Apparently after meeting Briar, he’d started seeing someone himself. The church they got married in required counseling for their wedding, and he’d continued to go even after the wedding, claiming it was helpful to talk about his problems. Problems. Like years at the Rock with men reduced to animals was a problem. Like a clogged-up sink or busted radiator hose.

“What do you mean?” Knox demanded, looking affronted. “It’s a fine idea. Who else would—”

“I can’t, Knox. I’m not at ease with . . .” People, life, the world. Everything. That pressure was back in his chest again, a hot knife digging deep. “You don’t want me around your kid. I mean, can you see me at his school functions and shit?”

“North, you’re family.” Briar leaned forward, still clinging to her husband’s hand.

He pushed back from the table. “I appreciate the sentiment, but you’re a family.” He motioned to both Knox and Briar and the house in which they sat. “You’ve built a home here. It’s the two of you . . . three of you, now. You’re all the family you need.” He stood and looked down at them sitting close together on the other side of the table. He knew without looking that their hands were laced together underneath the table. “You don’t need me. I know you think you do . . . the idea of including me makes you feel better, but it’s not necessary.”

“North,” Knox tried again.

North held up a hand. “I’ll be around. Thanks for dinner.” Turning, he exited the house, grateful his brother didn’t chase after him.

He walked out into the familiar yard. It was green and well maintained, potted flowers everywhere like when Aunt Sissy had been alive.

The last four years he had been in prison without Knox had been the hardest of his life. Even harder than when he first entered prison. Because Knox had been with him then. He’d never known what it truly felt like to be alone until then. To have to watch his own back. Sometimes he’d succeeded. He reached up a hand and stroked the scar bisecting his face. And other times he’d failed.

His brother had visited every other week, but that hadn’t helped. Seeing his brother out, free, had only made being inside, the suffering, all the worse.

Unfailingly though, Knox always came. He never gave up on him. Even when the COs would call his name out at visitation hours and North stayed in his cell, refusing to come out to see him.

He couldn’t face his brother and let him see what he’d become. He hadn’t wanted to be around his brother then, and he didn’t want to be around him now.





THIRTEEN




She stayed in her bathtub until her skin shriveled up like a prune and the water went cold. Setting down her novel, she climbed from the tub and wrapped herself in a towel.

Despite having eaten a serving of cobbler at her father’s, she felt like she needed a brownie or something else that could bring on a sugar coma. The evening at her dad’s had been distracting and she had not eaten her usual Sunday dinner portion, which could pretty much feed the Green Giant.