I don’t talk to her. I can’t. If I do, I’ll lose the little bit of control I have over my emotions. I keep my eyes straight ahead, blocking out my brothers as they each take a turn giving their statement and begging the judge to go easy on Ian.

  When I start to become overwhelmed, Luna slides her hand to my lap and takes my hand, squeezing it. She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t need to speak to me in order for me to understand all the things she wants to convey. I squeeze her hand back, having so much to say to her, but not having the ability to voice it.

  “Mr. Walsh,” the judge says once we’ve all had our say. “Please rise for sentencing.”

  My heart is pounding, and my palms are sweaty just like they were ten years ago when I was in his position. The overwhelming feeling of my stomach twisting and threatening to spill out onto the already stained carpet is stronger than it was when I was sentenced, but somehow, I keep everything down.

  “Taking a life is a serious crime even when the act isn’t premeditated. You’ve had years to live when the victim didn’t get the same.”

  I growl, hating that he calls my father a victim.

  He was the abuser. We were the victims.

  He was the predator. We were the prey.

  “Your brother served time for a crime he didn’t commit. You allowed that to happen.”

  Here we go. His words aren’t giving me hope for a light sentence.

  “But the justice system did fail you and your brothers. You should’ve been protected. Having to take matters into your own hands should’ve never needed to happen. I am required by law to sentence you to time in jail. There is no probation option. Because of this, I’m sentencing you to three years in state prison with the possibility of parole after seventeen months.”

  I close my eyes, hating that Ian’s going to serve seventeen months. It doesn’t seem like much, but each day behind bars feels like an eternity. Time moves painfully slowly, and each day is a struggle to survive—both physically and mentally.

  Ian turns around, glancing at each of us as if he’s trying to memorize our faces. And he is. I know I did. I knew the moment had to sustain me for a long time and keep me going until the day I was given my freedom again.

  The guard walks toward Ian, cuffs in hand, ready to haul him away. Luna hooks her arm around mine, plastering her body against me as she begins to cry.

  “He’ll be okay,” I lie to her, rubbing the bare skin of her arm.

  “He’ll be okay,” I lie to comfort her. “He’ll be out in seventeen months. It’ll go by fast.”

  She curls into me but keeps her eyes on Ian as they put the cuffs on him and lead him toward the same door he walked into the courtroom through. We all watch in stunned silence as the guard walks Ian out, fully expecting Ian to turn around one last time, but he doesn’t.

  “Damn,” Luna whispers. “This is awful.”

  “He doesn’t deserve this,” Dylan says.

  I stand there in stunned silence, staring at the door, wishing Ian would come back out and this would all be some cruel joke. But I know it’s not possible. I know it’ll never happen, no matter how badly I wish for it to be true.

  “He’ll be out in seventeen,” Callum says to Finn. “At least the judge didn’t make an example out of him.”

  “Yeah, man. I’m surprised he wasn’t a bigger dick. They usually are.”

  “It’s done,” Finn says, ticking his head toward the entrance to the courtroom. “We should go. No use in staying here longer than we have to.”

  “Do you think we’ll get to see him soon?” Luna asks me before we have a chance to move.

  “It’ll be a while. He’ll let us know when he’s able to have visitors, and he’ll have to get us on the list and wait for us to be approved.”

  “This is bullshit,” she mutters, finally releasing her hold on me, but not giving up the grip she has on my hand.

  “Come back to our house. We have food,” Rosie says. “I think we need to spend the day together as a family.”

  “You’re coming, right?” Luna asks, peering up at me with so much hope.

  “I can’t. Got shit to do,” I tell her.

  She frowns as she lets go of my hand. “That’s too bad, but I understand.”

  I hate that I’m adding more sadness to her eyes, but I need to be alone. My emotions are too all over the place, and I need to be by myself. I’ve never processed shit well around others, and today’s no different.

  “You’re not coming?” Dylan asks me.

  I shake my head. “I’ll come another day.”

  His eyes narrow for a moment. “Sure,” he mutters, knowing I’m lying.

  “I need some time alone.”

  Luna touches my forearm. “Call me if you need to talk,” she says so damn sweetly.

  “I will. Thanks, Luna.”

  “I’m here for you, Nevin.” She gives me a sad smile. “Whatever you need.”

  I lift her hand to my lips, kissing her fingers softly. “I can see why Ian cares for you so much.”

  If I didn’t think he loved her or that she loved him, I’d maybe allow myself to dream that we could have a closer relationship than we do or ever will.

  The one thing I won’t do is step into his life and be a fill-in for him while he’s absent. I’m not about to be a replacement for my brother.

  His life is his.

  I need to figure out what mine is about to become, and none of my plans involves falling for Luna Gallo.

  4

  LUNA

  “Luna, it’s Karen.”

  I stare at my phone screen, trying to make out the time. It’s late. So late, I’ve already been asleep for hours.

  “I don’t know what else to do. I didn’t know who else to call. I’m sorry it’s so late.”

  “What’s wrong?” I ask because Karen’s never called me, and we barely know each other.

  I can’t imagine what she’s calling me about. We’re barely acquaintances and definitely not friends.

  “Ian’s brother is here.” She sighs.

  “Which one?”

  “The one who just got out of jail.”

  “Okay,” I yawn, covering my mouth with my hand.

  “He’s pretty damn drunk, and we’re closing soon. He’s alone, and I’m worried about him getting home. If he weren’t Ian’s brother…”

  I pull myself up, fighting through another yawn. “I know. I know. You need me to get him?”

  “Please, girl. I don’t know who else to call, and I don’t want to turn him outside.”

  I stretch before swinging my legs over the side. “I’ll be there in twenty,” I tell her.

  “Thank you,” she says, sounding relieved. “Catch you then.”

  I don’t bother changing out of my leggings and tank top before I slip on a pair of flip-flops and head out the door. The air is crisp, a sure sign that fall is getting closer. But no matter how cool it becomes, I never put away my sandals.

  Less than fifteen minutes later, I’m standing outside the bar I’ve spent more than a few nights at while Ian worked. The place is a step above a dive bar, but nowhere near swanky. Many nights, there were only a couple of regulars, especially outside of tourist and snowbird season, which gave us plenty of time to talk and laugh.

  “Be strong and stern,” I tell myself as I stand near the entrance. I take a few cleansing breaths and lift my chin before stalking through the door.

  As soon as I’m inside, Karen catches my eye, dipping her chin toward Nevin. I give her a nod and mouth, “I’ve got him.”

  Nevin’s back is to me as he sits on a stool, slumped over and sliding around an empty glass with one hand. “Come on, Kar. One more. Pretty, pretty please,” he begs her, using a soft, sweet voice.

  “It was last call a half hour ago,” she tells him, continuing to clean behind the bar. “Sorry, bud.”

  “Damn,” he mutters and starts to climb to his feet. He leans against the edge, trying to stick his hand into his pocket, but he struggles. “I probably shouldn’t have had the last one.” His words aren’t completely slurred, but the statement comes out slower than his normal cadence.

  I slide onto the stool next to him, wanting to help, but not knowing what kind of drunk Nevin is. I’ve known all sorts, and not all of them are kind. “Hey,” I say softly, ignoring his struggle with his pocket.

  Nevin’s head comes up, his dark-green eyes drinking me in. He stares at me for a few seconds, maybe trying to focus and seeing more than one of me. “Luna?” he whispers.

  “Whatcha doing?” I ask, keeping things light.

  A smirk slides across his face, and he sways backward until gravity puts him back on his stool. “Drinking.”

  “I can see that,” I tell him, unable to cover my smile.

  He’s obviously going through some shit, but he seems lighter than he was earlier in the day. Getting drunk crossed my mind tonight, but I didn’t feel like having a hangover tomorrow. Obviously, he didn’t give two shits about the repercussions.

  “You want a drink?” he asks me, forgetting what Karen said moments ago.

  I shake my head. “I’m good.”

  “Well, I want another one.” He raises a hand, trying to get Karen’s attention, but she ignores him.

  “I have booze at my place,” I offer.

  He lifts his hand toward his hair, brushing his fingertips through the short dark-brown strands. “The hard stuff?”

  “Beer.”

  He scrunches his nose. “That’s not booze, Lu.”

  “What is it?”

  “Piss water.”

  I snort. “It’ll get you drunk just the same.”

  He shakes his head. “Not true unless beer has changed that much since I went inside. Has it changed?”

  “No. It’s the same.”

  “Nothing else is,” he says. “Everything is different.”

  “Not everything. I’m sure some things are the same, Nev.”

  He sighs. “More has changed than stayed the same. I feel like I’ve gone into an alien world and have to learn everything again.”

  “What’s different?” I ask, trying to stay away from the topic of Ian.

  “Cell phones.” He pulls his from his pocket and sets it on the bar top between us. “I can’t figure out what everything does.”

  “I can teach you.”

  He pushes it my way. “Put your number in and show me how to make a call or text you.”

  “Please.”

  “Please,” he grumbles.

  “If I show you, will you let me give you a ride home?”

  He stares at me and doesn’t answer right away. “I don’t have a home,” he says before looking away.

  My heart sinks as his body language changes. “But you do, Nevin. It’s still your home.”

  He fidgets on his stool and turns back toward me. “That place is nothing but a bad memory.”

  “Then come to my place,” I say, not knowing what else to do, but understanding why Nevin wouldn’t want to go back to the place where he grew up.

  His eyes widen before the sloppy smirk slides back into place. “You want me to come over?” he waggles his eyebrows.

  I nod. “Sure. We could have a sleepover.”

  “Can we make a fort?”

  I stop myself from laughing. He looks so childlike and hopeful. “Of course. What’s a sleepover without a fort?”

  He shrugs. “Wouldn’t know. Never had one.”

  “A fort or a sleepover?”

  “Both,” he mutters with a frown.

  I haven’t put much thought into their childhood and the absolute shittiness of the entire thing. So many things I did as a kid, I took for granted, figuring everybody had the same experiences. I couldn’t have been more wrong.

  Ian didn’t talk to me too much about his childhood, wanting to stay in the present day. I knew why, but I never fully grasped the severity. I thought maybe they had a few normal days, but damn, I was completely wrong.

  I place my hand gently on his shoulder. “Well, you’re getting both tonight, bud.”

  His entire demeanor shifts. “Really?”

  I grab his phone, typing my number into it before saving it. “For sure. We’ll have a cell phone lesson too.”

  He pushes off the stool, coming to his feet. “Popcorn?”

  “I have a bag,” I tell him, climbing to my feet.

  “I haven’t had popcorn in so long.”

  My emotions are just as all over the place as his are. I can’t imagine going without basic things for so long. I don’t know a person who doesn’t take a bag of popcorn for granted. I assume it’ll always be there, but that’s not the case for so many people going through some shit.

  “I’m not even talking about prison. It wasn’t something we had as kids. Had to go to the dollar movies to get some.” He takes a step and sways, but I quickly move to his side and grab his arm.

  “Easy does it, big guy.”

  He gives me another sloppy smile as his eyes roam my face. “You’re cute.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  He chuckles, sounding lighter. “I am that, but you’re still cute.”

  “I prefer pretty or hot as fuck, but cute will do.”

  He sways as I move his arm to my shoulder, letting him lean on me. “You’re all of that too. Primo piece of ass.”

  “Don’t hold back,” I laugh, making eye contact with Karen, who looks more than relieved.

  “I wasn’t,” he says playfully, taking his steps very slowly. “My brother should’ve locked you down.”

  I pull my head back, peering up at him. “Locked me down?” I keep him talking as we slowly walk toward the door. As long as he’s concentrating on me, he’s not thinking about leaving the place or another drink.

  “A sweet, pretty thing like you is rare. That much hasn’t changed. But the dumbass that he is, he didn’t make you his, Lu. He should’ve made you his. Should’ve locked you up,” he repeats.

  “Can’t cage a wild thing,” I tell him, liking this side of Nevin over the grumpy human I’ve encountered the last few days.

  He grazes his fingertips along the tender skin above my bicep. “You or Ian?”

  “Both,” I say, unable to hold back my laughter. “Your brother wasn’t about settling down, and I was never interested in him in that way.”

  “And you?” he asks as soon as we’re outside.

  I stop walking to grab my keys. “Me what?”

  He sways but catches himself, finding his balance. “Were you interested in settling down?”

  “Not with Ian.”

  “That’s not a yes.”

  “It’s not a no, but it would have to be with the right one. I refuse to settle for mediocre.”

  “Life’s too short for mediocre.”

  “You know it,” I mumble, moving his heavy body toward the car when he struggles to walk straight. “Come on, Nev. Let’s get you home and tucked in.”

  “Are you tucking me into your bed?”

  “You can sleep in the spare bedroom,” I tell him, making sure he knows nothing’s going to happen. “Ro’s old room.”

  “Fair enough,” he whispers, but he doesn’t stop moving. “But I don’t do lace.”

  “No lace.”

  “Or silk.”

  “No silk either.”

  “Or flannel.”

  I stop walking and stare at him. “What do you do?”

  “Cotton,” he slurs.

  “I figured you were a jersey guy,” I tell him as I open the car door for him.

  He grabs the doorframe, using it to hold his weight instead of me. “A what?”

  “Jersey.”

  He blinks, looking so confused. “What the hell is jersey?”

  “It’s T-shirt material. The sheets are soft.”

  “They make sheets out of T-shirts?”

  I laugh. “Not exactly, but it’s the same material.”

  “I want those,” he tells me, folding his body into my truck without smacking his head. “I want jersey.”

  “Well, lucky for you, big guy, those are the only sheets I have.”

  “No pink.”

  I roll my eyes. He’s pretty damn demanding for a drunk guy who was lying in a jail cell not that long ago. “Sheets are white.”

  He relaxes into the seat, letting the back of his head touch the headrest. “Perfect.”

  I shut the door, cursing Ian as I round the front of my truck, ready for a ride home that’s filled with questions about stupid things. At least Nevin’s not belligerent. He could be a mean drunk. So many people are, and I’ve never dealt with them very well. Nevin’s calmer…almost a different person. He’s no longer the grumpy asshole, but a more zen and bougie version of himself.

  Thankfully, Nevin keeps his eyes closed and his mouth shut during the short trip back to my place. He doesn’t need my assistance walking to the front door of my apartment, but he doesn’t push me away when I offer him the help.

  “You’re sweet.”

  “Thanks.”

  “And cute.”

  “You’ve told me this.”

  “Can never say it too much.”

  I’m starting to wonder if someone snatched his soul, putting a kinder and gentler being inside Nevin Walsh. He’s turning into a giant cinnamon roll when I thought he was closer to a pit bull.

  We barely make it into the living room when he falls sideways and lands right on the couch. He stretches out, his legs open, looking more like a wet noodle than a grown man.

  “Leave me here,” he says softly, throwing his arm over his face.

  “No jersey?”

  “No,” he whispers behind his arm. “Right here is perfect.”

  I bend down, wanting to remove his boots so he doesn’t dirty my area rug. He doesn’t fight me as I grab his foot and start working the laces.

  “Why are you so nice to me?”

  I glance up, catching his green eyes peering down at me. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

  He shrugs. “No one’s nice for no reason.”

  I frown. “Plenty of people are nice for no reason.”