by Devney Perry
The death of his daughter had tainted all of Kaine’s memories of Isaiah. I didn’t expect the brothers to work through their issues, especially while Isaiah was in prison, but I did want Kaine to get some closure.
“It’ll fade,” Thea promised. “You have these babies. You two live your life. The anger will fade.”
“I hope you’re right.” I smiled, then shook off my heavy heart. “Are you guys all set for Christmas?”
“Ready as I’ll ever get. Logan’s family gets here next week so that’s always hectic. But it will be nice to see everyone. When does your family arrive?”
“Same. Next week. I’m really excited to see them. This year has gone by so quickly with the move and the remodel. Then everything with Kaine and this pregnancy. It feels like I haven’t seen them for years, not months.”
I’d never been this excited for a Christmas as an adult. One nice thing about having Kaine’s cabin empty was it gave my parents a nice getaway spot for their two-and-a-half-week vacation. My brother would sleep in the guest room here when he arrived the following week.
“Is Kaine nervous about meeting them?”
I shrugged. “If he is, he’s not telling me. I think he’s more nervous that his mom has a nice time.”
Suzanne was coming up on Christmas Eve to spend the holiday with us. She’d had three years of holidays without her children. When we’d called to invite her up, she’d been so happy we were including her in the festivities that she’d cried.
He wouldn’t admit it out loud, but Kaine was overjoyed too. He’d been busy this last week making her Christmas gifts. He’d built Suzanne these beautiful wooden cutting boards and candleholders. I think he was anxious to show her how his talent had grown over these last three years.
My phone on the coffee table chimed. I groaned, summoning the energy to get up. Getting off the couch was as difficult as hot yoga these days. And I’d end up just as sweaty.
“Don’t.” Thea stopped me, handing over the phone. “Here you go.”
“Thank you. Speak of the devil.” Suzanne’s name was on the screen. “Hi, Suzanne.”
“Hi, Piper.” Her voice sounded off, not as cheery as when she normally talked to Kaine and me. There was a whirring in the background too, like she was driving. “Is Kaine there?”
“He went out hiking to get us a Christmas tree and didn’t take his phone. Is everything all right?”
“I need to talk to him. And I’m so sorry, but I won’t be able to come up for Christmas.”
“What? He’s so excited you’re coming.”
“I was excited too.” She sniffled. “But I won’t be able to come now. I, um . . . I just really need to talk to Kaine.”
“I can have him call you as soon as he comes back.”
“Thank you. And I’m so sorry to be missing your family. Please give them my best.”
“O-okay,” I said, stunned. “Bye.”
She hung up, and I turned to Thea. “Well, that was weird. Kaine’s mom isn’t coming for Christmas after all.”
“Why not?”
I shook my head. “She wouldn’t say. Which was the odd part. But it sounded like she was upset and driving someplace. Kaine needs to call her.”
“Do you want me to go and find them?” Thea offered.
“No. I doubt they’ll be gone too long. She didn’t say it was an emergency so we’ll just give it time.”
I summoned the energy to push myself off the couch, then I went to the kitchen and made the kids a snack, getting Thea and me each a bottle of this delicious cream soda I’d found at the grocery store.
Suzanne’s phone call put a damper on my time with Thea and the kids. As we watched them play, my eyes were constantly drifting to the door. Finally, an hour and a half later, it opened and three red-nosed and huffing faces came inside.
“Daddy!” Collin raced across the room to his dad.
Thea was right on her son’s heels, peering around them to see the trees outside. Her face fell into a frown when she saw the massive tree strapped on top of their SUV. Its tip hung over the front windshield and the trunk extended well past the bumper.
“Seriously, gorgeous. You’re killing me.” As she rolled her eyes, Logan just grinned as he stomped the snow from his boots.
Kaine grinned as he came inside. The tree he’d gotten for us was propped against the house. Frost on his beard wet my skin as he bent to kiss my cheek. “I’ll put it in a stand later this afternoon.”
“Okay.” I nodded, though the excitement for our first Christmas tree had also dimmed because of Suzanne’s call. I stepped out of the way so they could all come inside.
Thea helped Charlie out of her snow gear as the guys shrugged off their coats.
“Your mom called a while ago,” I told Kaine as he pulled off his hat. “She wants you to call her, but she said she can’t come for Christmas.”
“What?” His forehead furrowed. “Why not?”
“She didn’t say.”
He frowned, then walked over to the kitchen to get his phone. His boots left small globs of snow along the wooden floor. He lifted my bottle of cream soda off the island and took a sip, then grimaced. “I don’t know how you can drink this. It’s liquid sugar.”
“It’s yummy.” I rubbed my belly where the babies were jiving. “Your boys love it.”
His eyes softened, then he dialed up Suzanne and said hello. But his good mood fled as she spoke, and his shoulders stiffened.
Thea and I shared a look as she guided the kids through the living room to give him some quiet.
While they sat at the dining room table, I walked to Kaine and leaned against the counter, trying to catch his gaze. But he was silently fuming, his grip on my soda bottle getting dangerously tight.
“What’s wrong?” I whispered, but he ignored me.
The next moment, Suzanne must have said something shocking. His entire body flinched before stringing as tight as a rubber band.
Had someone died? Was Suzanne having health problems? My mind was imagining bad scenarios, one right after the other, when Kaine slammed the bottle in his hand down on the granite island. The bottle shattered, sending fizzing soda and glass shards flying.
I jumped and the kids screamed at the deafening noise.
Logan came my way with worry etched on his face. He stood by my side, but I kept my focus on Kaine.
“He was supposed to get five years,” he gritted into the phone.
My heart dropped. This was about his brother.
Suzanne’s voice grew louder on the phone, her pleas coming through loud enough for me to hear. “Kaine, please. Don’t get angry.”
“He deserves to be punished!” Kaine roared. “But I see nothing has changed. You’re still taking his side.”
Thea scooped up Camila and grabbed Collin’s hand, nodding for Charlie to follow her out of the dining room and down the hallway to the other side of the house. Logan watched them go, then refocused on Kaine as he inched closer to my side.
“No,” Kaine snapped. “He earned two more years for what he did. And to hell with you both if you’re going to defend him. I’m done with all this. You. Him. And if the justice system isn’t going to teach him a lesson, if his own mother won’t hold him responsible, then maybe I’ll teach him that lesson myself. He killed my daughter!”
My heart raced frantically at his words. Kaine had never threatened anyone before, and he’d never talked about revenge or retribution. Rage rolled over his shoulders, filling the kitchen like a dark fog. His hatred infected the air, chilling it to ice.
This was the side of Kaine he’d been trying to hide. The man out of control and so full of anger he was blind to the world around him.
Maybe if I touched him, I’d be able to bring him back.
I stepped closer, lifting a hand to Kaine’s forearm, but with one long stride, he paced out of my reach. Before I could take another, Logan gripped my elbow and held me back.
And then the phone went flying acro
ss the room. It crashed into the thick, wooden door and fell with a loud clang.
“Kaine,” I gasped. “What happened?”
He didn’t say a word. The look in his eyes was feral as he swiped his truck keys from the dish on the counter and went right for the door. He stepped on his phone with a boot heel and destroyed it completely.
“Kaine!” I wanted to rush after him, but I wasn’t wearing shoes and the floor was covered in glass from the broken soda bottle. If I could just touch him, if I could just get him to look at me, he’d calm down. He’d take a breath and snap back to reality.
But he was on a mission, striding out the door and into the cold without a backward glance.
“Kaine!” Logan called after him too, but it did no good.
Kaine’s truck engine rumbled to life. Then he was gone.
I sidestepped a piece of glass, only to step on a smaller one. “Damn it!”
“Where’s he going?” Logan asked.
“I don’t know.” I picked the glass off my foot and backed away. I ran my hands through my hair. “I don’t know. Maybe to drive around and blow off some steam. Or . . .” My stomach fell. “Or he’s going to confront his brother.”
I might not have heard the entire conversation, but it didn’t take much to piece it together. Isaiah had been released from prison. Or he was being released. Suzanne wasn’t coming to Christmas here because she’d be spending it with her other son.
I went to my phone and pulled up Suzanne’s number. It rang immediately to voicemail. I tried it again, only with the same result.
If Kaine was going to find Isaiah, I had to get there first. I had to stop him. But I had no idea where Suzanne lived or where I could find them.
“I need your help,” I told Logan.
“Anything.”
“I need to find out where Kaine’s mother lives. I need to know when his brother, Isaiah Reynolds, was released from prison. What time. Where. Any information you can get me.”
“I’ll call Sean.” Logan whipped out his phone, dialing his personal assistant’s number. Sean had been a systems hacker in his former life before Logan had hired him. He’d get answers to my questions and then some in a matter of minutes.
While Logan talked on the phone, I rushed to the hall closet, pulling on some shoes and a coat. Just as I was zipping it over my belly, Thea came rushing to my side.
“What’s happening? Are you okay?”
I shook my head. “I have to go after Kaine.”
“Is that safe?”
“He won’t hurt me. He just needs to calm down.”
This wasn’t like his panic attack, where Kaine had needed space to come to terms with the changes in our life. This was something else, something I’d seen time and time again when the fury from his past was taking over. He didn’t need space to get through this.
What he needed was me.
“Sean’s digging,” Logan said, joining us. “He’ll call you as soon as he finds out what’s happening.”
I nodded and grabbed my purse from the kitchen counter. “I’m going.”
“Piper—”
“He needs me.” I cut off Thea’s protest. “He’s going through so much. He needs me. And I need to be there to help him through this.”
“But—”
Logan placed a hand on his wife’s arm. “Call us if you need anything.”
“Thank you.” I went right down the hallway toward the garage where the Tahoe was parked. But before I could disappear from sight, a chilling thought settled in my mind. My heart plummeted.
“Logan?” I called over my shoulder.
“Yeah?”
“Did Kaine take off his gun?”
The collision was inevitable.
Things between Isaiah and me had been left unsettled for far too long.
A blind rage had sent me storming out of the house, and hours later as I sat behind the wheel of my truck, it hadn’t eased in the slightest.
My brother was supposed to get five years. Five. Years. I’d accepted his sentence. I’d accepted that five years of his life would be payment for taking the life of my baby. He’d lose five years for taking Shannon away from her family and friends.
Five years. Not three. He owed me two more years.
After the accident, Isaiah had been taken to the hospital too. While I’d been holding my daughter’s lifeless body, while Shannon’s parents had cried over her corpse, he’d been getting treated for some minor cuts and scrapes.
Then he’d been arrested.
Isaiah had sat in a jail cell as I’d arranged a funeral with Shannon’s mom and dad. My mother had pleaded with me to visit him, but I’d refused.
He needs to talk to you, Kaine.
It was an accident. He was barely over the legal limit.
He’s devastated.
I’d finally heard enough and left. I’d shut out the world, but not so completely that I hadn’t kept tabs on his case. Isaiah had pleaded guilty and been sentenced to three to five years in the state penitentiary.
How did a murderer get away with just the minimum sentence? Isaiah owed me two more years, and if the government wasn’t going to collect his punishment, then I would.
My foot pressed harder into the gas pedal. I was doing my best to stay close to the speed limit because I didn’t need a cop stopping me right now, not while I was this angry. But the miles were rolling by too slowly.
I wanted my retribution, then I wanted to forget I even had a brother.
Piper would be worried. I should have stopped an hour ago and called her from a pay phone, but I’d kept my eyes on the pavement and my truck roaring down the interstate to Bozeman.
An exit came up on my right, then flew past. It was better that I take care of this on my own. Piper didn’t need the stress, and until I confronted my brother and collected retribution, this anger would always loom over us.
I wanted her to marry me, but what the hell kind of husband would I make? I’d scared her today. I’d scared the Kendrick kids.
“Fuck.” I pounded my fist on the dash.
This had to stop. I had to end this. I couldn’t feel this way around Piper or my boys. They didn’t need to see their dad go fucking crazy over a phone call.
Today, I was ending this. And then I’d leave it all behind and never look back.
When I’d called Mom earlier, she’d been driving to pick up Isaiah. She’d claimed that his early release was a surprise to us all, but I didn’t know if I believed her anymore.
Ironically, the state penitentiary was between Lark Cove and Bozeman, in a town called Deer Lodge, along the interstate. When I’d driven past Deer Lodge before, I’d smiled to myself, knowing that Isaiah was behind the tall gates and barbed wire fences. This time as I drove by, I gripped the wheel harder, letting my teeth grind together.
My boot pressed the pedal faster. The speed limit was shattered now, so my only hope was not crossing paths with a cop. Mom had Isaiah with her and they were likely heading home. They were probably just an hour ahead of me, maybe less.
The afternoon light was already fading by the time I reached the Bozeman city limits. It wasn’t even four o’clock yet, but the sun was on its winter descent. Navigating the town streets didn’t take long, even though they were covered in patches of ice and snow. When I pulled up to Mom’s, two sets of footprints led up the snow-covered sidewalk toward her front door.
I threw open the door to my truck and stepped outside, ice crunching underneath my boot. The chill from the air did nothing to cool my blood—it had been boiling for hours, simmering for years.
The moment I rounded the hood, the front door to the house flew open. Mom rushed outside, pulling her sweater over her chest. Her dark hair was pulled back, the gray strands by her temples showing.
Before the car accident, she hadn’t had any gray hair. Her face hadn’t had as many lines around her mouth or wrinkles in her forehead.
“Kaine, calm down.” She raised her hands, but I didn’t
stop as I marched for the house, plowing right past her on the sidewalk.
“Is he in there?” I jerked my chin to the house.
“We just got home,” she said, following on my heels. “He just got out of prison. Let him be. You two can have it out at a different time.”
“Let him be?” I turned and glared down at her. “Let him be? I’m not going to feel sorry for the bastard for being in prison. He deserved to be locked away. He should still be locked away for another two fucking years!” My voice boomed across the frozen yard.
“Kaine—”
“Damn you for choosing him,” I spat. “Damn you.”
“He’s my son.”
“So am I.”
A tear dripped down her cheek and she wiped it away. “You’ll understand when you’re a parent.”
“I was a parent. Until he took her away from me.”
Her face paled and another tear fell. I ignored it and spun back around for the door.
Isaiah was standing behind the screen, staring outside.
Mom gripped my elbow, trying to hold me back, but I easily shook her loose.
“Still hiding?” I called out.
Isaiah dropped his shoulders and pushed through the door. He walked slowly down the stairs, then met me on the sidewalk. His chin rested on his chest, his eyes aimed to our feet.
“Look at me,” I ordered, my fists clenching.
He lifted his eyes, and I staggered back an inch. Because the man in front of me was not my brother.
This was not the carefree, fun-loving young man who’d come into my shop and keep me company while I worked. This wasn’t the cocky, charismatic man who’d charm all the ladies whenever we were out for beers at a local bar. This wasn’t the boy who’d come home from school each day with a new joke for the dinner table.
This was not my brother.
This was a shrunken version of the boy I’d tried to raise into a good man.
Isaiah’s frame, which had always been leaner than my own, had withered. His jeans, probably the ones he’d worn to prison, now hung from his hips. His black Nike hoodie was baggier on his shoulders than it had been when I’d given it to him as a birthday present five years ago. He’d worn it so often back then that the color had faded to a dark gray.
