“A room with your pictures on the wall.”

“What?”

“Your dad’s picture. Bren’s picture. My picture. Yours. Everyone in your life. Maxwell Raith on another wall. I’m assuming pictures of other Red Demons.”

He was quiet again, then clipped out, “How many others?”

“There were three walls. Your dad. Maxwell Raith. Another guy’s.”

“Who was the other guy?”

“I don’t know, but I took pictures of the pictures.”

“Good. I want them. All of them.”

“They’re on my phone.”

“Get a computer. Download them into a password-protected drive, and email that to me. Not via text. I want the drive password protected. You can do that?”

“Sure.” That wasn’t a problem. “But I’ll only do that if you loop us in.”

More silence. From him. From his end.

“What?”

I stood. I hadn’t known I was going to take this stand, but here I was. Standing, literally, for Bren. I kept the phone pressed to my ear as I glanced at the house. The inside was all dark. A light from down the hall was lit up. Bren was in that room, waiting.

“You’ve benched your sister enough with this stuff.”

“She’s not old—”

“She’s here. She’s living with her boyfriend—”

“I’d think you’d want to ingratiate yourself with me on this one?”

“She’s taking a serious job and trying to figure her shit out. She’s not going to college. She’s not taking the extra four years to ‘find herself’ and figure out what theories and philosophers she thinks can blow smoke up someone’s ass. She’s in the work field. She’s figuring it out, and she’s doing that alone. Her job, people you sent her way, and yeah, only Bren thinks that that was all a coincidence, but a dumbass could see your move from a mile away—these people are icing her out. I don’t know why, but I know it’s affecting her. Staffing a bowling alley is decent work if that’s what she signed up for. She didn’t sign up for that, and that’s what they have her doing. You were updated from our end about Sweets. We’ve told you about Harper—”

“Not that you beat the shit out of him. Yeah,” he bit into the phone, his voice savage. “You didn’t loop me in on that little detail.”

Fine. I nodded, not that he could see me. “Just so you know, that was your sister’s handiwork. She worked him over because she’s the one who could stop before it went too far. The rest of us, fuck no.”

“That kid—”

“That kid admitted that he knew Tabatha was touching him against her will. He knew the whole time. He did nothing about it except take advantage of the situation.”

I waited, my pulse picking up. Even thinking about Harper, hearing his admission, and I was gripping the phone so tight I was surprised it hadn’t shattered.

“He did?”

“He did. She went dark for us. She didn’t want to, but she did. So have her back.”

“I’m not—”

“I know, but we’re not kids anymore. Your sister’s certainly not. She’s not been a kid in forever, and last semester when you took care of the cop and Drake, she chose that. She wanted you to handle that, so she didn’t have to. She let you in, but she’s at a point in her life where she needs to be looped in. It’s what keeps her from going dark, man.”

Quiet again.

Another beat, and then Channing sighed. It was long and drawn-out. “Having our dad back is going to mess her up. I was worried. I didn’t think she was ready to deal with him.”

“She’s not, but she’s letting us know when she’s ready and when she isn’t. I’m just saying, when it’s coming to this new stuff going on around him, because it’s affecting her job, you need to start thinking of her as an adult. It’s the only way she’s going to be able to handle whatever storm that’s coming. She has to see it first, then get prepared, so she can deal with the fallout.”

“Yeah. Yeah. I hear you.”

My hand flexed, almost dropping the phone. I caught it and rubbed a hand over my face.

That’d been intense.

Channing added, “Nothing’s happening on the Harper front. The girl is here. The kid got worked over, but as far as we know, he’s not said who did it. I don’t even know if Harper, Sr. knows about it, so a heads-up, when the kid talks, you might have another kind of storm heading your way. It’s not if, it’s when. Always when. Plan for the when.”

“Got it.” Shit.

“I just heard Heather get up for the bathroom so I’m going to go. Take care of my sister, and thank you for the call. Do the email immediately tomorrow.”

I nodded again, then forgot he couldn’t see me. “Yeah. On it.”

“Hey, Cross.”

“Yeah?”

“Watch Bren more than you think you should. She’s going to snap one of these days about our dad. It’s coming. I just know it.”

A burn started to spread through me, but he wasn’t telling me anything I didn’t already know. Bren would snap, but Bren needed to snap. He wasn’t getting that part.

“I will.”

He hung up after that.

I let the phone drop. Catching it in my palm, I pocketed it. Man. Channing wasn’t the only one tired. I felt as if a semi had sideswiped me, crushing my legs.

I checked on the fire and noted everything had burned, then headed inside.

Plan for the when, he said.

A storm was coming. We needed to plan for it.

FROM: Cross

TO: Tazsters

SUBJECT: Re: blank on purpose

Love you. Miss you. I’ll call you later this weekend.

—I’m always the best twin

BREN

Cross came to bed, but I didn’t want to hear about any of it. Not then. Not yet.

I wanted to wait, hear it with the rest.

He came in, took one look at me, and knew what I needed. After washing up, he came to bed, rose above me and we didn’t fall asleep until much later. I woke late in the morning, wrapped in his arms.

Jordan and Zellman were already gone for classes, and Cross headed in for his twelve-thirty class. I had the house to myself, but it seemed weird to be here alone, so instead, I went for a drive.

I grabbed food, coffee, and then it was like a need inside of me that I wasn’t fully comprehending until somehow, I found myself parking at the top of a hill. I was on the outskirts of Cain. Trees spread out in front of me. I double-checked, but none of this was private property. I’d have to look through the records, but I was betting this was still city land waiting to be developed.

Packing my items in a bag, I started through the trees.

There were walking trails on the ridge, and going down one, I kept watch until I found an opening closer to the edge and moved in.

I hadn’t known I was coming here, I wasn’t even sure where exactly I was.

I moved along, off the walking trail now, and headed farther west.

I kept going until I came to a small clearing and looked out.

It overlooked a row of houses.

They were bigger than the ones in Roussou, much bigger. Each had a pool. A couple had pool houses, but I could see into their backyards. One of the houses had a woman and a group of young children playing, running, and jumping into the pool. There was another young woman talking to the other, sitting at a back table, overlooking the kids, but mostly talking to each other. There was a whole spread of food and drinks on another table. Balloons. A cake. Presents. Party hats.

It was a birthday party.

Another house had a couple kids floating in their pool, tanning, and talking.

I could hear their conversation, but it was a low murmur. I could only pick out a word here and there. Another house had a woman, retired age working on the shrubbery by her house. Still another had an older lady relaxing, sitting at a table, and her head pointed upwards to the sun.

I sat, feeling something settling inside of me, and I just watched.

It was a minute later, maybe five, perhaps longer, until I moved to start eating. I’d fallen into some form of a trance, watching them, seeing their lives, their homes. The normalcy. They seemed content, almost every single one of them. I knew they weren’t, though. They couldn’t be. Lives were messy, lives weren’t perfect.

There were always deeper emotions. Feelings, thoughts that were under the surface, sometimes acknowledged and most often ignored. But those feelings, those thoughts were there, and they directed what was on the surface. People crying and not knowing why. People hurting others and not understanding what they’re doing. Words spoken, judgments passed. All of it was guided from what was sitting just under the surface, but observing these people, they were content.

On the surface.

And who knows, maybe that ran deep inside and they truly were in a good place.

But I was betting they weren’t. Who was, really?

But these people. The big houses. Retired. Just starting to live. Just starting adulthood. From the outlook, it looked as if they had everything they wanted, but so many never really felt that way. They always wanted more.

I sighed.

I was here. Why?

I was watching these people. Why?