Reclaiming Brave: The Kane Brothers Book Three

by Gina Azzi

  "Thanks, Tota. I'm not sure when I'll be able to visit again but—"

  "Oh, don't you worry about that. Take care of yourself. And your baby. And that dashing man who I believe is taking care of you?"

  I smile again, not even surprised that she seems to know my life better than I do. "He is."

  "That's the type of man you need, Sierra. A man who will be beside you and support you when you need it without you having to ask."

  I nod, agreeing with her words, realizing that Denver is doing all of those things without my prodding. "You're right."

  "I know I am."

  I snort, shaking my head.

  “He’s a good man, isn’t he?”

  “He is. A very good man.”

  “Good. Sometimes, we are bogged down, really affected by our past that it makes it difficult to move on, find peace in the present and in the future. I worry about your own father sometimes, and the relationship he had with his father. I wonder if his father had been more of a role model, would he have been a better father to you and Lachlan? A better husband to your mother? It’s a difficult thing to admit when you have failed as a parent and in many ways, I failed your father.”

  “Oh, Tota, don’t say that. It’s not –”

  “It is true, dear. But he is to blame, too. He never tried to work past his issues. It’s important to embrace the present for all the wonder it offers, Sierra. Not to continually live in or compare the now to the past.”

  I nod, thinking over her words. Does Denver still have unfinished business with his father? How could he not? Is that what Tota’s hinting at?

  “You’ll be a wonderful mother, Sierra. I know it. Take care of yourself, dear. And call soon."

  "'I will. Bye, Tota." I click off, leaning back against the couch cushions.

  Picking up the TV remote, I flip through channels randomly, but my head is lost in thought. Is Denver still haunted by parts of his past that will complicate his future with me and the peanut? Should he address them now? Is he still trying to clear his name?

  When the door opens around dinnertime and his large frame fills the space, I’m so relieved to see him after my thoughts have been tangled up, spinning in circles for hours, that I practically tackle him.

  “Whoa.” He takes a step back, catching me in his arms. “What’s that for? You okay?”

  I nod. “Yeah, sorry.”

  “What’s going on?” His eyebrows draw together in concern and I trace my finger over them, smoothing out the lines.

  “I spoke to Tota today.”

  “That’s great, right? Wait, is she okay?” He places me on the ground and walks us over to the couch.

  “Yeah,” I collapse on the couch, angling my body to face him and hooking my legs over his knees. “She’s great. She just, she said some things that made me think.”

  “What kind of things?”

  “Just about my dad and his relationship with his dad. And not comparing the present to the past. I don’t know. I’ve just been thinking of so many things and we haven’t talked lately about you wanting to clear your name. About the stuff with your dad. Do you want to see him? Maybe get some closure? Are you still trying to clear your name?”

  Denver sits still, a frown marring his perfect features as he chews the corner of his mouth thoughtfully.

  “I didn’t mean to upset you.” I rush to explain, placing a hand on his forearm.

  He shakes his head, turning to look at me. “You didn’t upset me. It’s a good point and fair questions. Honestly, I’ve been so wrapped up in the move here and working that clearing my name has been placed on the back burner. But I still want to do it and you’re right, maybe I do need to close the door with my dad.”

  “You don’t have to close the door. That doesn’t have to be the only way to seek closure with him.”

  Denver’s eyes narrow. “With Darren it is. And I want that door locked up before the peanut arrives.”

  I sigh, settling back against the cushions. “Maybe you should visit him, then?”

  “In prison?”

  I shrug.

  “Maybe.” He agrees. “Let me talk to my brothers and sister. There’s a few things I still need to wrap up in Georgia too, so the timing would work out. I just, I don’t want you to be on your own.”

  I wave a hand. “It’s fine. Honestly. My mom is dying to come out to visit since I told her about the baby. She’s having such a tough time not spilling the beans to my brothers but her and James are really happy. Mom adores babies. And I miss her. A lot. It’s strange but now that I’m pregnant I feel like I understand her so much more. We’ve always been close but now we message or talk almost every day. It would be good for me too.”

  “You sure?”

  I nod. “Take care of your family stuff. And then come back to me.”

  “I’ll only be gone two or three days.”

  “That sounds perfect.” I agree, shifting my weight to crawl onto his lap. Straddling him, I wind my arms around his neck and shiver as his large hands slide up from my waist to the center of my back.

  “Miss me today?” he asks, dipping his lips to mine.

  “Always.” I admit, closing my eyes and letting his kiss consume me.

  Later that night, I call Mom who is ecstatic to jump on a plane and visit with me for a few days. She is already talking about nursery shopping and items the baby will need when he or she is born. Her excitement is contagious and I find myself online shopping, spending an absurd amount of time on Pottery Barn Kids alone. Why does all of their stuff have to be so damn cute?

  Denver calls his siblings and books a flight to Georgia. He’s off tomorrow and the weekend so the timing is perfect.

  In the morning, we lose track of time having one last romp in our bed. Denver kisses me hurriedly over a cup of coffee and rushes out of the apartment, unsure if he’s going to make his flight. We can’t stop laughing the entire time and I’m relieved when he messages me from the plane that he made it.

  While I eat breakfast, Daisy and I chat and she tries to convince me to fly down with Denver for Thanksgiving. I plan to talk to Denver about that. Maybe we can have Daisy visit us instead?

  After that, I disappear into my studio to paint for a few hours until Mom’s plane arrives. Losing myself to the colors, the scent of Denver still hugging my body, I can’t stop smiling. I don’t know if I’ve ever been happier.

  20

  Denver

  When Carter pulls into the driveway of our family home, it’s strange. It feels different now, not exactly like home, which is insane considering I’ve lived here most of my life. Already, I want to get back to Sierra and our little peanut. I hate that I’m missing the first prenatal class but she assured me it’s fine and that her mom is going to go with her.

  “You okay, man?” Carter asks, staring at me as I sit in the passenger seat and stare at the house.

  “Yeah, sorry.”

  “You miss her?”

  “It’s stupid, right?”

  “Not at all.” Carter shifts his weight and faces me. “I hate being away from Taylor. Even when she’s only gone for a night or two for a photo shoot, I hate it. I mean, I’m happy for her and proud of her but I hate being away from her.”

  “How do you like living together?”

  He grins, letting out a low whistle. “It’s really good, man. I want to go to sleep at night just so I can wake up next to her.”

  I snort, shaking my head at him. If anyone else said that, I’d make fun of them for being whipped but with Carter, it’s different. I’m just happy he’s finally found a woman who makes him so happy.

  “Come on. Daisy is waiting for us. There’s something we want to talk to you about.”

  I raise my eyebrows.

  “It’s good. I swear.”

  “Alright.” I agree, opening the car door and swinging my duffle bag over my shoulder. Following Carter inside the house, I catch my sister in a hug and we retreat to the kitchen.

  “Y’a
ll ordered pizza?” I ask, eyeing the boxes.

  “Yep. Are you hungry?” Daisy asks, sliding a slice onto a plate.

  “Starving.” I admit.

  We sit down at the table and bite into our pizza and a calmness settles over the kitchen. Over our family.

  “I wish Jax was here.” Daisy says after a few minutes.

  “Yeah.” Carter agrees. “FaceTime him in Daisy. He wants to see Denver’s expression when we tell him the news.”

  “What news?” I ask, suddenly anxious.

  “Oh, relax. You’re going to love this.” My sister reassures me.

  And really, nothing could prepare me for what comes out of her mouth next. But man, does it make me love my family. I’m lucky as hell to have them. And so is Sierra. And, of course, the peanut.

  The cool wind blowing through my open windows clears some of the fog in my brain and makes the drive more therapeutic than I imagined. I'm halfway to Montgomery, Alabama and the throbbing in my temples is beginning to dim, the stress flowing from my body. Using this time to make overdue calls to the lawyers Taylor connected me with, to touch base with my brothers, and to check in on Sierra, it seems like I'm taking an important step forward for my future.

  My cell rings again, and I press the small Bluetooth device in my ear to answer it. One of these days, I'm going to be able to afford a vehicle with a built in Bluetooth system.

  "Hey," I answer.

  "How's the drive?" Jax asks.

  "Slow but good."

  "Clearing your head?"

  "Something like that. How's Evie doing?"

  "She's good. Worried about you going to talk to Dad."

  I shake my head. Of course, she is. Evie Maywood is one of the most giving and selfless women I know. Jax is lucky to have won her heart back.

  "I'm calling with some good news," he continues after I don't say anything.

  I chuckle but it's nearly soundless. "This is turning into a theme these days. I’m not used to it. What's up?"

  "I reached out to Kenny and a few Army buddies of mine. One of the guys, Migs, opened a new autobody shop doing some repairs, but mostly custom rebuilds, about a year and a half ago. He works with a pretty select client base and does a lot of American muscle cars.”

  I let out a low whistle. The guys and women doing custom rebuilds are like artists; it's way above my monkey-wrenching around.

  "He's got an opening. Wants to take you on."

  "Jax, man, that's really incredible. But I can't do that stuff. I'm a Mickey Mouse mechanic compared to the people who do custom rebuilds and—"

  "He'll train you. Six months base pay. After that, if it works out, base plus commission. And you keep all the tips, which I hear are pretty generous."

  I shake my head again, unable to process how something this good, an offer this sweet, could just fall in my lap. "You're kidding me, right? What's the catch?"

  "No catch."

  "It's too good to be true." I tell him after he fills me in on the salary and the types of tips I could expect after a few months. “It would mean working only one job.”

  Jax sighs. "You're too damn skeptical for your own good. Just trust me on this one, it's legit."

  "What's the backstory?" I ask, because there has to be one. What business owner would take on a guy like me, a guy without the necessary skill set required to do the job, and train him out of the goodness of his own heart?

  Jax is quiet for a moment before he mutters out a curse. "All right. Don't ever repeat this. It was during my second tour. There was an IED explosion near a Humvee. Me and my guys were the closest to the Humvee, and we took some fire locking down the area. Command said to wait for backup, but I knew the guys wouldn't make it if we waited that long, so I ignored the command, never radioed back to confirm I received the message, and me and my guys went in. One of the guys we pulled out was Migs. He was in rough shape, and everyone was doubtful that he would pull through. I kept my fingers on his artery until the medics arrived. He says I saved his life. I didn't. It was a team effort, and a lot of guys were involved, but he wants to help you out. So take the offer."

  I chew the corner of my mouth, once again in awe of my brother, Jax. He doesn't talk much about his time in the Army, and while he had a rough transition back home and suffered from PTSD, it's always surprising to learn of all the things he achieved and accomplished while in the service. Not surprising because he did it, but surprising because he never wants to talk about it. He shies away from any kind of recognition and only shares stories about his friends and the pranks they pulled, never about the heroic deeds they did.

  "Thanks man," I say finally, knowing if I comment on his story, he'll shut down.

  "It's no problem. I'll text you his number. Give him a call when you're back from Alabama."

  "Will do. Appreciate it."

  "I know, Den. Drive safe."

  "Tell Evie hello."

  "I will. We'll talk to you soon."

  I disconnect the call and check the time. Deciding I should eat something, I pull off at the next exit to grab a bite and a Coke and to process everything Jax just shared with me.

  It's bright and sunny the next morning as I wait outside the prison in my SUV for visiting hours to begin. It's strange, the weather being so cheerful on a day I feel so much dread. I hate walking back into a prison. A slew of memories I wish I could forget, a tightness in my chest, and an edge of fear underlying every move I make assault me until the throbbing headache is back, and my fingers repeatedly clench into fists.

  I take a gulp of water from the plastic bottle in the center console and lean my head against the headrest, closing my eyes. It's going to be fine. I can do this. Walk in there, confront my old man, and move forward with my life.

  And now with Jax's friend's offer on the table, Taylor's lawyer friends helping me out, and Sierra waiting for me in New York, it looks like my life is finally changing for the better.

  My phone rings, interrupting the silence and I grin at Sierra’s name on the screen.

  “Hey baby, how’re you feeling?”

  “Hi! Pretty good, thanks. The nausea is starting to slow down and I’m not as tired as I was a few weeks ago.”

  “That’s good news.”

  “Yeah. I miss you.”

  “Me too. I’ll see you in two days though.”

  “I know. I can’t wait.”

  “How’s your visit with your Mom?”

  She laughs, the sound comforting as it washes over me. “She’s already in that crazy grandma mode.”

  “Crazy grandma?”

  “Just don’t be alarmed by all of the shopping bags and deliveries arriving over the next few weeks.”

  “Oh, no. Is it that bad?” I ask, my eyes widening. For a family who has built-in ovens, who knows what they do for a baby’s nursery?

  I can hear Sierra’s smile through the line. “It’s pretty bad. In a good way. Our baby is going to be so spoiled. But mostly with love. Mom is just really excited; it’s her first grandbaby.”

  I reach into my pocked and finger the small pouch with the gemstone that Carter and Daisy passed along to me last night. I wonder how my mom would react to the news of my having a baby? I can picture her sitting up at night, her knitting needles in hand, making the baby a blanket or hat. A pang hits my chest and I have to move the phone away from my mouth to regulate my breathing.

  “She’s coming with me to the gallery for a few hours this afternoon. She’s also really excited to come to the prenatal class with me tonight so don’t feel bad about that.” Sierra continues to chatter and I pinch the bridge of my nose to refocus on the conversation with my girl.

  “I’m glad y’all are spending some time together. I hope to meet your mom, and James, soon.”

  “You will, don’t worry. Are you nervous about seeing your dad?”

  I blow out a deep breath. “I guess so. I just want to get this over with and get back to you and our bed.”

  “It’s cold without you.”
She says playfully and I cough, just the thought of her naked body splayed out across the sheets affecting me.

  “I’ll be there soon.” I repeat and frown at how scratchy my voice sounds.

  Sierra laughs, the sound carefree. “You better be. I’m over sleeping with all these boyfriend pillows.”

  I chuckle. “Hey, I have good news. Jax is connecting me with a guy he knows who has his own autobody shop doing custom rebuilds.”

  “Den! That’s amazing! When’s the interview?”

  “It seems to be past that point already. Jax says he wants to take me on and train me. Six months base pay but if it works out than base plus commission. We could be in our own little place before Christmas.”

  “Wow! I’m so proud of you.” She gushes and the craziest thing is, she means it.

  My chest feels funny at her unwarranted praise and it makes me yearn for her even more.

  “Baby, it’s nearly eleven so I gotta go. Call you after, okay?”

  “Yeah, call me. Good luck, Den.”

  “’Bye baby.” I click off and store my cell in the center console, placing the pouch holding the gemstone beside it.

  When eleven rolls around, I exit my SUV and walk the short distance to the main entrance of the prison. Darren is held in a maximum-security facility for drug and gun related charges. He's facing twenty years and has already served eight. I'm always waiting for the call that he's getting out early, which makes my blood gel in my veins, while also offering my mind a breath of relief I don't understand.

  How can I have such conflicting feelings toward my father?

  While I often hate him for setting me up to take his fall, for manipulating Carter, ignoring Jax, and dismissing Daisy, I can't erase the handful of happy memories from my childhood: of sitting on his lap as he read me bedtime stories, of him teaching me how to throw a football, of twisting Oreo cookies and eating the icing before the chocolate wafers just like he taught me. The entire thing is a mess in my mind and makes my feelings toward him a vortex of confusion and turmoil.

  Stepping into the prison, I take in the yellow-beige walls and the no-nonsense officer sitting behind the check-in desk.