Breathe (26 page)

“You could serve him seaweed soup,” Lincoln said, “and he"d eat it. He"s been

surviving on takeout. You should see his place.”

Jay playfully elbowed the man in the side.

“Ow.” Lincoln smacked his arm in return and threw a crumpled napkin that

bounced off Jay"s forehead before he could react.

The kids laughed and smacked one another"s arms, tossing their own napkins

around.

Nancy stood. “Everyone, stop it.” She looked at her brother. “You"re as bad as

the kids.” She cleared dishes, and Jay got up to help. “Sit,” she said. “The kids"ll

help.”

With no more encouragement than that, Davy and Jessica carried plates and

glasses to the sink.

“They"re good kids,” Jay said.

“Yeah.” Lincoln gripped Jay"s thigh under the table. “Too bad their dad and

stepdad couldn"t appreciate what they had. Some men should never get a chance to

be a father.”

The chili in Jay"s gut churned. He"d lost his chance at being a dad. Hadn"t he?

He grabbed the hand Lincoln had on his thigh and forced himself to focus on the

other man. “They"re lucky to have you.”

“I hope you like chocolate fudge.” Nancy carried a half-gallon box of ice cream

and a metal scoop to the table. Jessica and Davy followed with bowls and spoons for

everyone.

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Sloan Parker

Jay didn"t bother moving his chair back, and his abdomen hit the edge of the

table as he stood. The table skidded six inches, rattling the bowls and silverware.

“Sorry. I—”

Lincoln steadied a teetering bottle of soda.

“I have to go—I"m sorry—I can"t stay for—” He sounded like an idiot, but he

couldn"t hold back the jittery start and stop of his words.

Lincoln got up and grasped his arm. “You okay?”

Jay forced a breath in and spoke to Nancy. “Thanks for dinner.” He couldn"t

look away from the carton of ice cream in her hands.

“You"re welcome,” she said. “You"ll have to stop over for ice cream another

time.” The kids cheered. For the ice cream or to see Jay? It didn"t matter. He"d

probably never see them again. Too bad. They were cute kids.

Nancy set the box of chilled dessert on the table.

Jay stepped back as she pushed it closer to him. “I have to leave.”

“Okay.” Lincoln rubbed his arm before letting go and moving to the front door.

He held it open for Jay and went outside after him. “What"s up?”

Jay wanted to explain, to admit he couldn"t eat ice cream if someone shoved it

down his throat, couldn"t look at it for anything in the world.

What was he doing at Lincoln"s house? Meeting his family?

How could either of them move on when it stared them in the face every day—

each reminding the other with their existence?

How could they ever let go of the past?

With the truth. It was the best place to start.

“I need to talk my brother. And my parents.”

Lincoln watched Jay. “Okay.”

“I want to tell them the truth. About me. About everything.” Before the Shaws

returned home. Before anything more happened to Lincoln. And most importantly,

before Jay ended up falling for the one man he could never have a life with.

* * *

Jay"s freak-out at the table had to have been about his wife. The man had

grieved deeply for her—was still grieving. Every time Jay pulled away from him, it

had to be about her, about what Lincoln had done to her.

How had they let themselves get this far? Meeting his family? What a fucked-

up idea.

A hand pressed against his lower back. “Everything okay?” Nancy asked.

Lincoln faced her. “Yeah. I think he feels guilty about moving on.” She knew

Jay had lost his previous lover, but Lincoln wasn"t explaining more right then.

“Do
you
feel guilty?”

Breathe

133

“I know I gave up a good thing with Paul but—”

“I"m not talking about Paul. What about your guilt over the accident? Are you

letting go of that?”

“I"m trying to.”

“Even with stuff like this?” She held out the typed note and box with the

destroyed toy car tucked inside. “I found them when I went to get the ice cream

from the garage freezer.”

Lincoln snatched the items and held them in a tight fist before her face. “This

isn"t your business.” He marched past the kitchen where the kids were digging into

the half-gallon for extra chocolate fudge.

Nancy followed and slipped her hand along the inside of the bathroom door

before he forced it shut. “This is my business. You are my business.”

He released the door, dropped the toilet lid, and sat.

She stepped into the small room. “How many things like this have you gotten?”

“A few.”

“Since when?”

“Since the funeral.”

“Lincoln!”

“What? They"re just words.” No need to mention Jessica"s inhalers. He

wouldn"t frighten her.

She swiped the car from the box in his hand and held it up as he had done to

her. “This is not just a word. What do the rest say?”

“Stuff to make sure I don"t forget. That"s all this is about.” Or so Jay kept

saying.

She stared at the car and spoke softer. “Are you sure?”

“I took another person"s life. If someone hurt you or the kids”—or Jay—“I"d

want to make them pay.”

“Pay?” She sat on the edge of the bathtub. “Linc, you"ve paid over and over for

this. You made a mistake that led to a huge tragedy, you served the time the judge

gave you, you paid the fines, you paid your lawyer. And what about that outrageous

settlement they got?”

“That wasn"t all my money.”

“It came from your insurance. You lost all the money you earned from your

racing. You lost your home, your partner, your career. You"ve paid enough. You

need to call the police and report this. Tonight.”

Jay"s dust-covered jeans and T-shirt were lying in the laundry basket beside

Lincoln. The same clothes Jay wore when they"d made love in the garage. Made

love—that was the description he"d been searching for. “I can"t. Not yet.”

She stared at Lincoln until he offered more.

“I know who they"re from now, and I"m handling it.”

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Sloan Parker

“He might be dangerous.” Of course she"d assume they were from the widower.

It"s what he had thought until he met Jay.

“I won"t let anything happen to you. Or the kids.”

“I"m not talking about us.”

Even though it would scare her, she deserved the truth. “Someone"s been in

the house, the garage. That"s where I found some of the notes.”

“Here?” She glanced out the door of the bathroom. Giggles floated down the

hall. The kids would probably keep eating ice cream until they reached the bottom

of the half gallon or their mom told them to stop. She turned back to Lincoln.

He nodded.

“How are you handling this? Saying you"re sorry? You"ve said that. You can"t

make her family not hate you. That"s something they have to want to do. And

frankly…” She looked out the door again, biting her bottom lip. Listening to her

kids? Their chatter had grown softer. Kids should be able to enjoy an ice-cream

treat and not have to worry about threats and guilt and revenge. “With that kind of

pain, they might need to hate you. They might not be able to ever let it go.”

He wanted to tell her the truth about Jay, about the forgiving person he"d been

lucky enough to meet. Why bother? As soon as he worked up the nerve, Lincoln

would confess about the latest note and then tell him he was going to the cops. Jay

might not be happy with Lincoln for turning the Shaws in, might not want to speak

to him—let alone more. Despite all the Shaws had done, no one had gotten hurt.

“Okay. I trust you know what you"re doing,” Nancy said. “And I know you are

trying to do the right things.” She flipped the car over and over in her hands. The

word
murderer
resurfaced with every flip. When she spoke again, her voice cracked.

“You didn"t have to do it. You"ve already done enough.”

“Do what?”

“Pay the electric bill. And the insurance and the mortgage. Not after all the

money you give me every week. Not after all that money from the sale of your car.”

“Nance, I didn"t pay those bills. I"ve been giving you the money.”

She lifted her head. “I called to get the balance. They were prepaid for six

months. Who else—” She sucked in a gulp of air and covered her mouth with her

hand.

“Mel.” Lincoln had hoped he"d never have to say that name again.

“Why would he do that?” she asked.

“Maybe the bastard actually feels guilty for leaving you and the kids.” Lincoln

stood and kissed the top of her head. “He"s still not allowed in the damn house,

Nance.”

“He can"t buy me back. I"m not that stupid.”

“I know.” But Lincoln was glad he"d changed the locks. No one was hurting his

family. Not ever again.

Breathe

135

Chapter Nineteen

Jay parked in front of his parents" house. The street was quiet, not a single car

lining it in either direction. Every vehicle was parked behind garage doors. There

were no people visible in the yards, no neighborhood football games, no dads playing

catch with their kids, no one riding bikes or skateboards. No signs of life. Maybe

spring never reached middle-class Edgefield.

How had he ever felt at home there?

He turned his Jeep off and sat behind the wheel for a moment more before

getting out. He should"ve called Todd. He hadn"t seen or heard from his brother

since Todd met Lincoln. What would his parents say? Had Todd told them? A

message from his mom on Jay"s answering machine, asking him over for dinner was

the only contact from any of his family.

Like a lone sheep entering the wolf"s den, there"d be no escape. He slid out of

the Jeep and trudged toward the house.

“Jacob!” his mom exclaimed with a smile when she opened the front door.

He stepped inside and moved toward the archway of the living room. His dad

was seated in a chair by the window, reading the financial section of
USA Today
.

All the lights were on in the room, and it was brighter than usual, like they"d upped

the wattage of every possible bulb. A fire was blazing in the fireplace, the air thick

and stifling. The sweat would be rolling off Jay before long. He shed his coat. Hadn"t

his parents gotten the memo that winter was over?

His dad lowered the newspaper to his lap and searched Jay"s face for a minute

before speaking. “I"m glad you didn"t skip out on us this week. It"s been too long

since you"ve been over for dinner.”

He"d been a little busy. Not that he could force the truth out yet about whom

he"d been busy with. Was it harder to tell his parents he was gay? Or harder to

admit he was sleeping with Lincoln McCaw? His dad leaned forward, rested his

forearms on his knees, and opened his mouth. He didn"t have time to say whatever

he was planning to before Jay"s mom came into the room. His dad picked up the

newspaper again.

“Do you want a cup of coffee?” she asked. Her pleasant tone and the light

bounce of her steps told him all he needed to know. Todd hadn"t talked to her. Not

yet. Maybe Jay needed to give his brother more credit.

“No, I"m fine.”

“Todd is running late,” she said. “He won"t be here until six.”

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Sloan Parker

Jay went farther into the room, exhaling as he took each step. At least he could

break the news on his terms. He had to explain to his parents, and to Todd, before

the Shaws" homecoming. If talking the Shaws out of their threats didn"t work, Jay"s

relationship with Lincoln might be impossible to keep quiet. And Jay didn"t want it

to be a secret. Not anymore.

Could he do this? Telling his parents he was sleeping with another man would

be hard enough. Add in the fact that it was Lincoln, and he might not survive the

resulting battle.

His mom gripped his forearm and steered him to a chair facing the fireplace.

He hated that creaky wooden chair, hated the fireplace. He shook off her touch and

sat on the couch.

She sighed and left the room, heading toward the kitchen.

Jay smelled pot roast finishing off in the oven.
Odd
. She never made roast. He

hated it.

“Jacob,” she said as she returned carrying a tray of coffees. She set a cup on

the table in front of him and sat on the love seat across the way. Hadn"t he said no

on the coffee? She sipped her own and said, “I heard that lumber company of yours

is doing well. I saw in the paper they handed out raises last week.”

His dad turned a page of the newspaper, then another. The slap of pages

startled her. She glared at her husband and then focused on Jay again.

“Yeah, I got a raise.”

She smiled at him before sipping more of her coffee. She knew nothing of his