Xander stiffened beside me.
I’d killed lesser men in my career. Better ones, too. His comment had his intended effect—rage coiled in my muscles, ready to spring.
“You have yourself a good night, Captain,” Xander said as he rested one hand on my shoulder, the shotgun still gripped by the other.
Of course he appeased the asshole. Of course he backed down to the place he was supposed to be, the place where everything was safe and everyone knew their roles.
Xander’s place was to make peace. Mine had always been to bring war.
“Will do, Mayor Daniels,” Hall responded.
I clenched my jaw to keep it from dropping.
The two Halls gave us nods that meant different things and climbed into their SUV.
We stood there in silence, shoulder to shoulder, like the unwilling sentinels we’d become, guarding the man who’d never done the same for us. A few moments later, with the searchers and police dispersed, there was only one car I didn’t recognize in the driveway.
“So, Mayor Daniels, huh?” I asked my brother as we turned to climb the rest of the steps.
He shrugged.
“Seriously? You’re not dishonest or power hungry enough to be a politician. Trust me—I’ve met my share.”
“It’s possible to serve without presidential ambition, you know. I’m happy where I’m at. And it’s not like we’re a bustling metropolis.” He rolled his eyes and opened the front door.
“Until summer.” I paused, my gaze drawn to the mat under my feet. I’d sworn never to cross it again.
“Yeah, those extra fifty thousand people who pop up tend to complicate things, but that income keeps the town running the rest of the year, so I’d call it an even trade. Now, were you thinking of coming in, or were you going to sleep on the porch?”
I’ll never go back to Alba.
I’ll never get out of the service.
I’ll never listen to Dad blame me again.
I’ll never again lay eyes on Willow Bradley.
Compared to breaking that last promise I’d made to myself, the act of stepping over this threshold was cake.
I walked in before my common sense could stop me. After all, how the hell was I supposed to help Dad if I wouldn’t go in the house?
Xander shut the door behind me as I stood in the entryway, taking in the changes around the house I’d grown up in. Home. It had been one while Mom was alive. Little by little, the feeling had drained from the house in the way water dripped from that slow leak in the upstairs bathroom. We’d all been too distracted by other things to grab a wrench. The love had bled out in a steady trickle that we’d left unchecked out of sheer apathy.
Sullivan had cared.
Sullivan had died and taken the last sluggish heartbeats of this corpse of a house with him.
“I’m going to put this back in the safe.” Xander motioned to the shotgun.
“Does he still have the key?”
“He handed it over after we left the clearing. You know, he’s only lucid about fifty percent of the time anymore. You should go talk to him while he’s really…him.”
“Right.” Because the real him was a peach.
Xander bounded up the stairs, disappearing at the landing.
I kicked off my shoes out of habit and put them against the wall.
How can I keep these floors clean when you boys insist on tracking in half the mountain?
I smiled at the memory before my eyes caught on the rug just down the hall that hid the bloodstain we’d never been able to scrub out of the hardwood. The place Dad sat, holding Mom as she’d bled out after the cougar had gotten the best of her. She’d begged him to stay with her, to let her die where they’d made a life.
He’d respected her wishes and said it was a miracle she’d lasted while he’d carried her home, that she’d never make it down the mountain to the hospital.
He’d been right.
“Oh my. Camden? Is that really you?”
I stood and faced the hallway to see Hope Bradley, Willow’s mom, gawking at me.
Yet another person with a permit to loathe me. Fucking awesome.
Her lip trembled, her eyes watered, and then it took everything I had in me not to put the front door between us as she quickly walked my way.
“You…” She shook her head and gave me a watery smile. “You look exactly how I remember you. I didn’t know you were in town!”
“Just got in today,” I told her, stuffing my hands in my pockets.
“Oh wow! Does Willow know? I bet she’d love to see you.”
That kindness in her hazel eyes—so like Willow’s—was almost my undoing. There was a reason she’d been Mom’s best friend.
“Yeah, I actually saw her about an hour ago.” What the hell was taking Xander so long upstairs?
“Oh good! She’s always the first to jump and help when Art takes one of his walks.” The skin between her eyebrows furrowed as she examined my coat. White feathers poked out of the holes the buckshot left. “What on earth have you gotten into, Cam?”
“Hope, I’ll be ready to go in just a second,” Dorothy called as she crossed the hallway, headed for the kitchen.
“I drive her home,” Mrs. Bradley explained. “Plus, it lets me check in and make sure Art has everything he needs or give Xander a little break. I’m so glad you’re here! How long are you in for?”
“I’m back for good.” The words tasted like bitter lemon on my tongue.
She clasped her hands. “Really? Well, that’s the best thing I’ve heard all week!” Her eyes dropped to my coat again, and she shook her head. “You might need to get a new coat, though.”
“I’m ready,” Dorothy said, coming out of the kitchen. “Now, Cam, I’ve given your father his evening meds. Maybe you could take a shift sleeping in Art’s room so Xander can sleep at his own place tonight? That boy is worn to the bone. Oh, and how are you feeling after all that…?” She acted like it hadn’t been years since I’d been in this house, like I’d left mid-conversation and she was simply picking it back up.
“All that what?” Hope asked.
“Boy got himself shot saving your daughter; at least that’s what Art just told me.” Dorothy passed us both to retrieve her coat from the rack by the door.
“You were shot?” She focused on a hole in my jacket. “And Willow?” Her panicked gaze darted back to mine.