Lightning Strikes (The Almeida Brothers Trilogy #3)

by Trevion Burns

  “How am I different?”

  “You’re nicer.”

  “Should I be meaner?”

  “No,” she laughed. “I mean, you’re nicer, but not in that Jack way.”

  “There’s a Jack way?”

  “You know… the Jack way. Where you’re nice, in spite of yourself.”

  He couldn’t help a laugh escaping his lips. “Maybe now that we’re finally home, it’s easier for me to be nice naturally…”

  She considered that, and then shook her head. “Nope. I’m not buying it. Because you’ve been putting on this nice act since Utah, like I said, since I told you about what happened to Noah. I know it was a lot to dump on you, so I just want you to feel like you can talk to me about whatever is bothering you. I want you and I to have a real chance together, out here in the real world. In normal circumstances. I want us to be able to talk to each other without the crutch of an extreme life event carrying us along. I want to know how you really feel…”

  Jack turned his back, glass of scotch in a death grip, running a hand down his face.

  “I want to know if you love me, Jack.”

  He faced her, just in time to see vulnerable tears hitting her eyes.

  She lowered them, scraping her nails in a slow circle on the counter, her boots fidgeting on the tile floor.

  “You make me really happy,” she whispered.

  “You made me happy too, Nina.”

  “Made?” Her eyes met his, wetter than before.

  He looked away.

  “Jack, I’m not trying to pressure you,” she said, holding up a hand. “I would never want to do that. I just… God, I don’t know.”

  He gave her a moment of his gaze and then looked away.

  She studied him. “There’s this look you get in your eye sometimes. It’s like you want to say something, but then you talk yourself out of it. Your mind invalidates the truth before you let it leave your lips.”

  He smirked. “And you call me a lawyer. You missed your calling, doll.”

  “Yeah, well, once I win this malpractice suit for Noah, I plan on taking the settlement, going back to City College, and finishing my JD.”

  “You should.” He nodded, eyes flashing with pride. “Not only are you a beautiful,” he sighed, “beautiful woman, but you’re also exceptionally smart. Clever. Perceptive. A triple threat.” He breathed out a laugh. “The fact that you’re a black woman will only make you more powerful. The world will try to convince you it’s your greatest weakness, but it will always be your greatest strength. They won’t even see you coming until you’ve already got them around the neck.”

  She tried to smile, but couldn’t. “I love you, Jack.” The tears were back in her eyes, and when he looked down, they multiplied. “I love you a lot.”

  Jack looked at his glass of scotch and finished it off. They both stared at the empty glass for a while before he took the bottle and emptied its remnants inside. He slammed it down on the counter, breathing deep.

  “My father…” He played the glass in slow circles on the counter. “Loved to drink…”

  Nina frowned, pushing her hip up against the counter, crossing her arms.

  “He’d finish off every last swallow of alcohol in this house. Except that garbage you’re drinking. Even he wouldn’t touch that.”

  Nina didn’t smile.

  Jack breathed deep. “His first failed attempt at sobriety was on my fifth birthday. That’s when he started hiding the bottles.” He laughed. “Jesus. He used to have them all over the house. Under mattresses. Floorboards. Inside our old stuffed animals in the basement. He never could remember the one he hid behind an old armoire in the guest bedroom. It’s still there, twenty-five years later.” He looked off. “It’s a miracle I haven’t demolished it myself. I don’t know. Maybe I keep it there as a reminder. A reminder to never fucking be like him. To never be such a goddamned, psychopathic drunk that I have to hide the bottles from my own family. Such a goddamn useless drunk that, every now and again, I even managed to hide them from myself, right before I put a fist through my wife’s eye because I’m convinced she hid them from me.”

  Nina stepped forward.

  He held up a hand. “Don’t.”

  She stumbled to a stop, her lips trembling. “You don’t have to push everyone away, Jack. You don’t have to pretend that you don’t need people. That you don’t need me. I’m right here, and I love you. I really love you, and I’ll never hurt you.”

  She was slaughtered at the emptiness she could see in his eyes, even as she felt her own growing more saturated with feeling. She could almost feel the burn of the scotch on her own throat as he sent it searing down his. Washing away anything that still remained inside of him that could accept the love she offered.

  He blinked lazily. “I keep that bottle behind the armoire, twenty-five years later, as a reminder of the man I defended. The man whose hands…” He made claws under his chin. “Lived around my neck whenever I blocked the path to Chase. I never did let him get to Chase. Maybe, since I wouldn’t let him near his youngest son, he went to work taking everyone else’s.”

  Nina frowned, shaking her head. “Jack,” her voice went weak. “Jack what are you saying?”

  He seemed to be floating away, just out of her reach, farther and father by the second. “Maybe… every time I took a punch that was meant for Chase, I was killing the next innocent kid that ended up on his operating table.”

  Nina took a step back, eyes going wide.

  Jack watched her out of the corner of his eyes but didn’t meet her gaze. “Maybe…” he continued. “My family deserved the hell on Earth he brought to this house every day because we didn’t speak up. We didn’t speak up for the little Timmys. The little Ashleys…” He swallowed. “The little Noahs…”

  Nina shook her head, more softly this time, as realization washed over her. “No.” She didn’t know if she was speaking or begging. “No… Jack, no…”

  Jack finished off the rest of the scotch, staring at the glass when he set it back down. “Maybe…”

  “Holy shit it was you.” She gasped, finally allowing the truth to take hold, breaking her words and stifling her breath. “It was you.”

  As realization flooded her, he gripped the countertop. “Nina. I can’t…”

  She took another step back, her eyes and mouth falling open all at once, her tremoring knees barely allowing her to move at all, and the cry that got trapped in her throat re-manifested itself as moisture in her eyes.

  “I can’t fall in love with another woman who is destined… to never love me back.” Jack’s chest heaved. His voice rose. “Who is destined to walk away. I can’t. I would rather die alone.”

  Nina continued moving back, shaking her head.

  “So just go.” He nodded, still avoiding her eyes, watching the empty glass tightening between his fingers. When, out of the corner of his eye, he saw her freeze in mid-retreat, his voice rose. “Go, Nina. Get the hell out. Go!”

  Nina turned on her heel and raced out, her boots pounding the wood floors as she crossed the living room into the foyer, throwing open the door to the brownstone and flying down the stairs without closing it behind her.

  Jack heard the door swing open, heard the fierce wind from the outside that stopped it from closing on its own. He listened as it hit the wall, back and forth, sending a steady bang pounding along the walls. The wind picked up, dancing with the door harder, faster, and the bangs grew louder, more insistent.

  By the time he finished off the last swallow of scotch, the door was banging almost as quickly and powerfully as his heart.

  ***

  For six years it had been a blur. His face. Everything else had been vivid. The back of his jet-black hair, trimmed so neatly you could take a ruler to it. His razor-sharp suits pressed into such precise lines they could slice butter. His voice; with so much depth and authority that questioning him seemed unfathomable. His words, his mind; his confidence. All so unwavering it left e
ven the strongest willed men double-checking themselves. Their minds. Their beliefs.

  She remembered all of it. All but his face. Whenever she went back to the year Noah died, to the seat she always took in the courtroom—the one farthest to the left—she remembered the back of that perfectly trimmed head, those beautiful suits, but the moment he turned toward her, toward her pew, he disappeared.

  She stepped into her apartment with wide eyes, pushing the door closed behind her, too taken by the memories to lock it. She moved toward the bedroom with so little purpose she couldn’t even recall how she’d gotten there, curled on top of her royal purple comforter in the fetal position.

  Pulling her knees to her chest, she closed her eyes and tried to will it away, but she couldn’t.

  Because now, when she thought back to those days in the courtroom, those days she’d fought so hard to protect Noah’s legacy, things were no longer a blur.

  They were crystal clear.

  And when the attorney, the man whose face had been a blur for six long years, turned toward her in her memories now, she saw him clearly.

  She saw Jack Almeida.

  And she saw him, over and over, turning and meeting her eyes. She saw the emptiness in his own. The complete disregard for any of the children his father had taken. Over and over, she saw that face, those eyes, as her cries intensified. When she was unable to wipe the image from her head, her cries grew louder, deeper, so much so that the mattress began to shake along with her trembling limbs until she finally found the sweet release of sleep.

  ***

  The next afternoon, Nina realized she’d been staring at the door for over ten minutes. Hands pulled into tight fists, her eyes lingered over the cracks, dents and bullet holes in the steel door, reminiscing on how each blemish had manifested.

  The building was just as she’d left it. The entryway doors, manned by a new NYPD officer every other week—most of whom couldn’t hack it, still squeaked and fought back against anyone who tried to open them. The stairs that led to the fifth floor were still littered with neighborhood kids, some tenants, some not, all of whom’s time would surely be better spent in school. It was midday after all.

  Nina took a deep breath. Same building. Same dark halls. Same memories. But, somehow, it felt entirely different.

  She raised her fist to the door, not surprised to see it shaking, and knocked before she could talk herself out of it.

  Several seconds passed, her heart rate was up to levels even a high-intensity workout couldn’t bring her to, and she turned away, ready to hightail it toward the stairs.

  Then, the door opened with that same creak. The one that always reminded her of a dying feline.

  Nina froze in mid-step. She kept her eyes down, heart pounding so rapidly she was sure she was burning an insane amount of calories just standing there. Standing there and feeling those eyes on her.

  She gave herself a silent chant before turning back to the door.

  It was as if, the moment their eyes met, transference happened, because the woman on the other side of the door—the older woman—immediately began to pant. Short of breath, her chest heaved, and she covered her heart with her hand.

  The woman’s long nails were perfectly done, which was no surprise. Come hell or high water; she never missed a salon appointment. At the moment, however, she was now on the verge of ruining her French manicure as she dug it into the steel door. Moisture filled her dark brown eyes, and whips of gray hair that had never been there before jumped out amongst the black, which she’d swept up into a high bun. The lines on her face were deeper, but not alarmingly so, and as her lips fell open, even the sound of her sigh made Nina nostalgic.

  Nina covered her heart with her hand too, and tears jumped to her eyes in an instant. As they watched each other across the threshold, what felt like a lifetime went by.

  Then, the woman launched her body into the hallway with a cry, throwing her arms around Nina’s neck as tight as they would go.

  Nina’s eyes slammed shut, making the tears threatening to teeter over, spill down her cheeks and drip onto her downturned lips.

  “Mom,” she cried into her shoulder, letting her familiar fragrance ease her bones and take her to another place. A place that only the woman cradling her had the key to. A place she’d been running from for far too long.

  ***

  Her mother still insisted on covering every piece of furniture in that apartment with plastic, so every time Nina shifted, the incredible amount of noise it produced made her feel about five hundred pounds. She’d never understood why her mother had been so adamant about protecting the furniture when they lived in project housing. The only thing that stood out in that living room more than the plastic around the couches were the actual couches themselves. Too nice for that apartment; or that building.

  With a sniffle, Nina cuddled her head deeper into her mother’s lap, nearly falling asleep at the sensation of those long nails combing through her hair, sending warm waves of relaxation through her scalp. She couldn’t see her mother’s face, but from the tone of her voice, Nina could tell she was frowning.

  “How could it be possible that it was the same man? Was he following you?” her mother asked.

  Nina could “hear” her mother’s frown going deeper, and she shrugged, eyes searching the tiny living room. “I don’t know why he would purposely run into me, and then purposely follow me all over the country.”

  “Because this lawsuit is a direct threat to his inheritance. He stands to lose an awful lot if you win this thing.”

  “So he tracks me down, why? To seduce me into dropping the case?” Nina sniffled. “It doesn’t make any sense.”

  “Money makes people do crazy things.”

  “But I wasn’t even supposed to be on that flight. I’m the one who sat next to him. I’m the one who kept insisting we stick together. He couldn’t even stand the sight of me for the first few days, but by the time he finally had the option to ditch me… he didn’t want to.” Nina shook her head, picturing Jack. “I can’t believe I didn’t see it all this time.”

  “You said he was only the assigned defense attorney for the first few years, right? Then someone new replaced him?”

  “Kyle snaggletooth Stanley. Now that’s an evil snaggletooth face I will never forget. Why is it so easy for me to remember Kyle’s face, but not Jack’s?”

  “Jack came early on. You were deep in mourning; you were suffering. You’d just lost your only son, baby. You couldn’t see.”

  Nina nodded. “But when I think back on it… sitting next to him on that plane, looking him in the eye for the first time…” Tears filled her eyes. “I have no idea how I didn’t see it, right that very second. It was him. It was always him. How did I not see it?” When no answer came, Nina sighed. “I don’t know, Mom. I’ll stop. I know you’re the last person who wants to hear about this trial.”

  “I want to hear about whatever you want to talk about.” Her mother’s strokes grew longer, more pronounced. “I’ve missed you with every shred of me.”

  “I missed you, too.” Nina sniffled. “And I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry.”

  “No, I am. It wasn’t until my divorce was finalized that I finally realized you were right all along.”

  Her mother’s strokes slowed.

  “And then finding out that Jack was one of the people who helped keep this trial going for six years. That he’s the reason it slowly tore my life to pieces, shred by shred, bit by bit…” Nina laughed. “That really drove it home. Getting revenge has consumed me so much that I allowed it to destroy me. Destroy my life. Everyone I love. It ended my marriage. Obliterated my deepest friendships. It even tore me away from you. I can’t believe I didn’t see it sooner. Honestly, when I first told him what happened to Noah, I knew something was off. Something was different about him, like that.” She snapped a finger. “He knew. The second I said his father’s name. He was in shock. Or maybe he was overcome with guilt; I don
’t know. It just sucks that by the time I saw it, it was too late.”

  “You cared for him.”

  “I thought I did. Thought I maybe even loved him…” Nina closed her eyes. “But how could I love someone who did this? Someone who made it so hard to get justice for Noah that it dragged on for years? What kind of person does that?”

  “A lawyer.”

  Nina laughed heartily. “Sounds about right.” Her voice lowered. “Sounds like Jack. An Aries lawyer. Arrogant. Selfish.”

  “If you’re going to let go of the anger, Nina, don’t do it halfway. If you can, forgive Jack. We’re all moved by our own shepherds. Who knows where his has taken him. For all we know, his brought him straight to you for a reason.”

  Nina laughed. “I think his shepherd did lead him to me. He put Jack in my life to prove you were right. To prove how stupid I was to walk away from you, just because you were telling me the truth. I was allowing my anger to consume me. You were right. When my friends started fading away, when the other mother’s started to let go, that should’ve been my cue. But I couldn’t.” Nina sniffled. “This is the last time, though. This trial coming up is the last one, and if a settlement isn’t reached, I’m letting it go. I can’t take it anymore.”

  Her mother sighed. “While you’ve been gone, I’ve had a lot of time to think. I thought about what I would do if I were in your shoes. If you were my five-year-old, little Nina-Bear, sweet as can be with nothing but smiles and sunshine for anyone who crossed her path. I think about what I would do if anything ever happened to you. If an addict took your life, because he was too stupid, too proud, to admit that he had a problem.” She took a deep breath. “I would never stop fighting, Nina. I would never stop ringing necks. Hell, I would simply fight until I just died. I would die with guns blazing.”

  Nina slapped the tears off her face.

  “So, I’m sorry,” her mother said. “For ever making you feel like you should stop fighting for Noah. Because I would’ve never stopped fighting for you.”