Gone (Deadly Secrets #2)(9)
Julian slid a possessive arm around her, pulling her a little too tightly to his side for Alec’s comfort. “You said this was important, so I came back early.” He didn’t make eye contact with Kelsey, just stared at Alec with his soulless black eyes. “You look like shit, Alec. Rough day?”
Alec wanted nothing more than to draw his fist back and pop Julian Benedict in the nose. Today, especially, it would feel good to let loose on the jerk. But he held back for Kelsey’s sake. And because Alec knew he was the last person who should be doling out relationship advice, even if he were convinced her husband was a total dick.
“Yeah, I guess you could say that.” Alec turned his gaze on his sister. “I need to get some air. I’ll be back.”
He set his drink on a nearby table and headed for the door. At his back he heard Julian mutter, “What the hell is his problem?” and Kelsey whisper in response, “It’s not you.”
Alec almost huffed and said, “Yeah, buddy, it is you,” just to piss the guy off, but he didn’t. Because it wasn’t the truth. The truth was that he was jonesing for a drink. And every second he spent around people who were happy—or, in Kelsey’s case, pretending to be happy—made that craving harder to ignore.
He pushed the heavy door open and stepped out onto the restaurant’s second-floor patio, drawing in a deep breath of cold, January air. Lights in potted trees twinkled as he moved up to the railing and looked out over the Pearl District neighborhood.
Shit. This view didn’t do a thing to improve his mood. Just made the pressure in his chest grow tighter and his need for that oblivion only alcohol could provide that much stronger. Leave it to his parents to pick a restaurant in the same neighborhood where he’d once lived with Raegan to celebrate their anniversary. The universe was clearly telling him tonight was not his night to hold it all together.
“Hey. You doin’ okay?”
Alec glanced over his shoulder toward Ethan, striding toward him. He hadn’t heard his brother follow him out onto the patio, but he should have expected it. “I’m fine.”
Ethan moved up next to Alec, his hands in the pockets of his slacks, his brow lifted in a don’t bother trying to lie to me expression Alec knew all too well. “Holding on to that railing a little tightly for someone who’s fine.”
Alec’s gaze dropped to his hands, which gripped the metal railing so tightly his knuckles were white. Shit. He didn’t remember doing that either.
He let go and flexed his hands against the cramps shooting down his fingers. “I just needed some air. Is that a crime?”
“No. Definitely not. I should know.” Ethan flashed a smile, and Alec didn’t miss the inside joke about their time together at Bennett. Drawing his hands from his pockets, Ethan leaned his forearms against the railing. “It’s just the reason you need air that worries me.”
Sometimes it sucked having your family know your greatest weakness, and Ethan was the worst since Alec had never been able to hide his drinking from Ethan. Back when they’d been teenagers, Ethan had witnessed Alec’s weakness for alcohol in times of stress. He’d even covered for him with their parents when they’d found an empty bottle in the trash or when Alec had been too hungover to do his chores after a wild night of partying. Alec knew that was part of the reason Ethan rode him so hard now. Because he felt guilty he hadn’t helped Alec quit back then before the addiction had ruined his life. But it still irritated the hell out of Alec, especially when he hadn’t touched a drop in three damn years. “I’m not drinking, if that’s what you’re asking.”
“That’s not what I’m asking.”
Alec’s jaw clenched. “I’m not gonna have a drink either, even though after the day I’ve had, I deserve one. Or ten.”
“Wanna talk about it?”
No, Alec didn’t want to talk about it with his therapist brother. Ethan was just like their father. He’d dig until he got what he wanted, then he’d talk you to death until you told him exactly what he wanted to hear. Unfortunately, aside from a jump off this second-story ledge that would likely just cripple him instead of put him out of his ever-loving misery, Alec knew he was stuck.
He exhaled a hard breath, hating that he was such a pansy, wishing this never-ending day would just hurry the fuck up and finish. “Jack Bickam called. They found a four-year-old girl wandering alone in a park today. Asked me to come down and try to ID her.”
Ethan pushed away from the railing and stared at Alec with wide green eyes. “What?”
“It wasn’t her,” Alec said quickly, sensing Ethan’s excitement. “I knew it wasn’t her before I even saw her, and I was right. Bickam asked for a DNA sample, but her parents showed up while we were at the hospital. It definitely wasn’t . . . her.”
Ethan’s gaze darted over Alec’s features. “Maybe they’re wrong. If she’d been missing as long as Emma, she might look totally diff—”
“Ethan, it wasn’t her. She didn’t have the birthmark near her eye. And even if you don’t want to admit it, I can. My daughter’s dead, and we both know who killed her.”
Ethan’s shoulders sank, and the disappointment on his face was too much to bear. Alec leaned his own arms against the railing and looked out at the view. Itching—again—for . . . shit. He didn’t know what he wanted anymore.