Breathe (17 page)

the money my grandpa had left us.”

“And your dad?”

“Gone long before then. Ran off for something better.”

“Sorry.” It sucked that sometimes parents didn"t love their kids enough to stick

around for their lives.

“No big.” Lincoln opened a nearby file cabinet.

“Still sucks.” Jay glanced at the frame on his dad"s desk. Or

maybe…sometimes parents loved their kids too much. Were his parents behind the

threats? Or his brother? Was one of them—or all of them—doing this for him?

He finished searching the desk and moved to a filing cabinet next to the one

Lincoln was going through.

Lincoln stopped, a computer printout in his hand.

“What?” Jay asked. “What did you find?”

“Did your parents donate all the money they got from the settlement?”

Jay scoffed. “Hardly. Why?”

“It doesn"t look like your dad"s business is doing all that well.”

“What?”

“See here”—Lincoln handed over the papers and pointed—“If these figures are

accurate, he"s losing a lot of money at his store.”

Hard to believe. His dad"s business had always been successful—maybe not

successful enough for his mom, but enough for his parents to continue to live the

way they always had. How much longer could his dad keep the store open? And

where had all the money from the lawsuit gone? Did they invest it? Somewhere his

dad couldn"t access to save the store?

Lincoln took the papers back, and they finished searching the cabinets.

“Nothing in here,” he said as he shut the last file drawer.

Jay wanted to believe that meant something. But if there was nothing to find

in the house, it didn"t mean his parents hadn"t sent the notes. Perhaps they"d been

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either smart enough to hide the paper they"d used, or his dad kept it at the store.

Searching the store would take hours. And even if the type of paper used to harass

Lincoln was there, it didn"t mean his parents had anything to do with the notes.

Someone else could"ve purchased it. Did his dad keep detailed customer records?

They"d have to check at the store to find out. “Let"s try upstairs. My mom has a

sewing room with a desk.”

They made their way through the dark house, walking close but saying

nothing. The room upstairs had far fewer places where his mom could"ve hidden

anything, but there were several boxes full of odds and ends in addition to the desk.

After they came up empty on the desk, Jay picked up a box and started in on it.

Lincoln followed suit.

Three boxes later, a car door closed somewhere outside.

Lincoln dropped the papers he held back into the box. “You said they"d be gone

until—” The sound of the front door opening and closing downstairs interrupted

him. “Fuck.” Lincoln strode to the window. “Can I get out here?”

“No.” Jay rushed to Lincoln"s side. “It"s too far, and there"s nothing for you to

climb out on. You"ll get hurt.”

Footsteps thumped below them. The kitchen.

“Better than the alternative.” Lincoln reached for the lower window sash.

Jay stilled his hands. “No.”

“What then? They can"t find me here.”

“I know.” Jay ran a hand through his hair. “My old room. There"s a ledge. You

can reach the tree out back and climb down.”

Jay went to the door and peeked out. The hallway was still dark, but a sliver of

light filtered up from downstairs. He stepped into the hall, and Lincoln followed.

They crept along the wall toward Jay"s old room. Jay twisted the doorknob, pushed

in, and winced when the door squeaked. Same way it did when he slipped in after

missing curfew all those times his senior year. He"d never once regretted it, though.

He"d only been late on the nights when he and Katie had sneaked into the County

Cooler, the boarded up ice-cream stand where they sometimes went to have sex.

And he didn"t regret sneaking around now. He had to know what was going

on—who was tormenting Lincoln and his family. Had to stop all this shit before

someone got hurt.

He entered the bedroom, but apparently he didn"t move fast enough. Lincoln

crowded him inside and pulled the door shut behind him. It took a moment for Jay"s

eyes to adjust to the low light of the streetlamp seeping in between the curtains.

Lincoln grabbed his arm and hauled him toward the window. Having Lincoln touch

him in the dark, Jay nearly forgot what they were doing there and why. He wanted

to feel Lincoln"s body against his own, to repeat everything they"d done the night

before. And maybe a few things they hadn"t.

The echoing of footsteps ascending the stairs yanked him back into the

moment.

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“They got any security?” Lincoln asked.

Jay shook his head, too focused on the footsteps to verbally answer. The solid

steps couldn"t be from his mom. His dad, then. Better?

Lincoln either caught the head shake or didn"t care. He lifted the window and

then the screen and sat on the windowsill. “What"re you going to tell them about

why you"re here?”

“I don"t know.”

“You"ll be okay?”

“Yeah.” The footsteps halted, then started down the hall, heading toward

them. “Go.”

Lincoln didn"t. He settled a hand at the back of Jay"s neck. The quick kiss said

more than Jay wanted to admit. Too bad there could never be more. Not for them.

Lincoln released him and crawled out on the ledge. Jay watched for a second,

then closed the window and rushed to sit on the bed. The footsteps in the hall ended

with the opening of a door. Not the one to his old room, though. Jay sighed. They

had to know he was there. His Jeep was in the driveway. It wouldn"t be long before

they found him.

He"d been in his old room before, several times since the funeral. His parents

would let him sit there until he returned to the living room on his own. They never

once came to collect him. Whether they knew it or not, he"d needed those times

alone. Not just to get away from his parents" anger, but to fill himself with the

memories of the first night he and Katie had made love. It was their junior year,

and his parents had gone on a business trip to an office supply expo in Chicago. He

and Katie spent the weekend in his room, laughing, making love, talking about

their plans to elope and get their own place.

It was in that room Jay sometimes needed to be.

His dad wouldn"t be surprised to find him there. Eventually, he"d head out. He

just needed a minute to forget that kiss. Forget how Lincoln had touched him.

Should be easy to forget while sitting on the bed where he and his wife had first

discovered each other"s bodies. It wasn"t. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn"t

shake the affection in the kiss Lincoln had given him at the window. Jay fell to his

back and rolled to the side, tucking his legs up, and curled his arms under his head.

She was everywhere around him.

Then why couldn"t he get Lincoln out of his head?

The bottom drawer of his old dresser caught his eye. The drawer was open a

crack. He had taken everything when he"d moved out. His parents must be using it

for storage. He pushed off the bed, turned on the bedside lamp, and knelt before the

dresser. Inside the bottom drawer was a large manila envelope. Typed on the front:

his mom"s name and address. No return address. A postmark from the local post

office.

He unfastened the clasp and opened the envelope. A typed note slid out. Same

style paper he and Lincoln had searched for all night.

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I hired a private investigator. Thought you might like to see what he’s been up

to.

Jay reached into the envelope and removed several eight-by-ten photographs.

He flipped through them. Lincoln at night with a woman in a waitress

uniform. Another of him walking with a small child, her hand tucked in Lincoln"s.

His niece? One through a window with Lincoln standing at a kitchen table, two

children writing with pencil and crayon. The same little girl and a boy. Jay set the

photos on the floor before him. He didn"t want to touch them any longer.

Who had sent his mom the pictures? Todd? The Shaws? Stuart? Emily?

Down the hall, a toilet flushed and a door opened. The footsteps started toward

Jay"s room. He stuffed the letter and photos into the envelope and tucked it inside

the back of his jeans, using his shirt to cover the top half. He dropped to the bed and

kicked the drawer shut with his foot as the bedroom door opened.

Todd stood in the doorway. “Hey. Wondered where you were. Saw your Jeep

out front.” He leaned against the doorjamb. “What"re you doing here?”

“Could ask you the same thing.”

“I had to pick something up.”

“What?” Jay asked.

“Just stuff.”

“Stuff?”

Todd tapped the bottom of the doorjamb with the tip of his boot. “A new rifle

Dad bought for me. I wanted to try it out tomorrow morning.”

“When did you start hunting?”

“A couple of years ago. Dad and I started going”—he paused and kicked at the

wood trim again—“after you guys eloped.”

“Oh.” Why hadn"t they told him? Because they knew Jay. No way would he

want to have anything to do with killing something. Didn"t think he could be the

one to do it even if he was starving to death. And that was before the accident. He"d

tried vegetarianism for a month when he was eight years old and first found out

where hamburgers came from. Todd had made fun of him until Jay finally gave in,

and they begged their mom to take them to McDonald"s.

Jay stared at the closed drawer where he"d found the pictures and said, “Sorry

I didn"t call you back the other day.”

Todd waved him off. “No problem. I just wanted to make sure you knew where

I was, see if you"d keep an eye on Marge for me.”

“You weren"t home?”

“No. I left on Monday to fill in for the first responder training in Chicago. I told

Mom to let you know.” He shook his head. “I knew she"d forget.”

The tightness in Jay"s chest eased. Todd hadn"t been home. He couldn"t have

stolen the inhalers the other day. Jay squeezed his eyes shut and tried to fend off

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the guilt. No luck. Thinking his entire family were crazed vigilantes was killing

him. How fucked-up could his life get? And what was even more fucked-up: the only

time he"d been able to forget all of it was in Lincoln McCaw"s arms.

Todd sat on the bed and nudged Jay"s shoulder with his. “What"s going on? You

haven"t been up here in a while. Thought you were doing better.”

“I am.”

“You look like shit.”

“Thanks.”

“Jay.” The exasperated sound of his name wasn"t anything he"d heard from

Todd before. “You need to get on with your life. Get past this. Go out. Get laid.”

Jay smiled. He couldn"t help it.

“Hey,” Todd said. “That"s the first real smile I"ve seen from you in over a year.

Meet someone?”

“Yeah, but…” The smile vanished. There would be no telling Todd about

Lincoln like he was dating someone. What had Lincoln said?
A fuck. Nothing more.

“But what?”

“It"s not someone I can keep seeing.”

“Why?”

“Too complicated.”

“Don"t let it be. You need to live again.”

Jay stood. He was trying to live. He was doing better than his parents. Than

the Shaws. “I"m gonna head home.” He quickly crossed the room so Todd wouldn"t

ask him what he had hidden under his shirt. Not until he had a chance to question

the Shaws, find out who had sent his mom the pictures. He stopped at the door.

Todd was straightening the bedcovers Jay had mussed when he"d lain down. When

the bed was arranged, Todd turned off the lamp. His brother was cleaning up after

him. Like he had for the past year.

Not anymore. Time for Jay to take care of things for a change. To find out what

was going on. Time for his wife"s memory to be what she deserved.

Time to end all the lies. The hatred. The threats.

* * *

“Dammit. Get off me.” Stupid thing thought he was a lapdog—all eighty

pounds of him. He pushed at the dog"s face before Sparky could slobber on his chin

and added tugging on the collar until the dog jumped down.

“Don"t you like dogs no more?” Jessica climbed onto the couch and sat next to

him. It must suck to be so tiny. She had to work just to get on the damn couch.

Nancy said she was the smallest kid in the kindergarten class at Edgefield

Elementary.

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“I like dogs fine,” he said. Sparky wagged his tail and paced the length of the

couch, probably trying to figure out if he should jump on him again. Lincoln sighed.

“I miss mine.”

Jessica sprang to her knees. “Uncle Paul brought him over before you came