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Brick shot to his feet, but Kane pulled him back down with softly spoken words. “It’s come and gone, brother. Let the man tell you his story.”
“Kane’s right.” Robby came from the behind the desk and leaned against the front of the scarred wood. “It can’t hurt me anymore.”
From there, he told them about his first trips to the bars. About finding men to take him home. John. Parker. Even Harry. And his escape. “I never thought I’d have it in me to kill somebody, but I can’t bring myself to be sorry for it. Not even now.”
“Course you’re not,” Kane growled. “Some people deserve to die.”
Robby gripped his hands together. “I’d understand if you looked at me differently.”
Brick let out a heavy exhale. “At least you’ve only killed someone who deserved it. I’ve killed plenty who didn’t. Do you look at me differently?”
Of course not. “That was the old you.”
“And all this—everything you just told us—that wasn’t the oldyou?” Brick pressed. But he didn’t wait for an answer. “Does Matt know?”
Kane rubbed his chin. “It’s what this is all about, am I right? Your disappearing act? The radio silence? It went bad.”
“I wasn’t honest.” Robby swallowed. “He found out about it all in the worst possible way. And so did his son’s mother.”
“Do I need to break his legs?”
“No, Brick.” He had no doubt his friend would do it in a heartbeat. “He could lose his little boy over this. This could give Patty ammunition in a custody fight, and Matt’s baby is everything to him—as he should be. We need to work this out ourselves. Just—be my friend. Can you do that?”
“No, man.” Brick stood, his six-and-a-half-foot frame towering over him. “We’re not friends.”
Kane stood beside him. “Not friends. Family.”
Brick nodded. “Forever.”
It felt like a hug-it-out moment, but a tap on the trailer door interrupted them.
“Um. Hello? I’m looking for a Rob Jordan.” A tinny voice leaked into the room, followed by another knock. “Is anyone there?”
Eyebrows drawn together, Brick pushed open the door.
A skinny, balding delivery guy held out a spring bouquet. “Mr. Jordan?”
Brick swiped the flowers out of the man’s hand and held them out to Robby before digging some cash out of his pocket for a tip.
Flowers. He didn’t have to read the card to know where they came from. Still, with shaking hands, he tugged the small, thick square from the envelope.
You deserve a lifetime of flowers.
I love you.
Not just the best part of you. Not just the idea of you.
I will love you until the end of time.
Robby held the card and the flowers to his chest, and before he could wrap his head around the unsigned card, his phone buzzed in his pocket.
Matt: I’m sitting outside your apartment. With a grand gesture. I’ll wait. As long as I have to.
“I need to go,” he murmured.
Kane dropped a hand on his shoulder. “Go work it out, brother.”
He fought the urge to drive a hundred miles an hour back to his apartment. He went ninety-five at the most. Surely, the police would understand.
