Page 53 of Holding On To Good

Bella nudged his leg and Urban bent, picked up the ratty tennis ball by his feet then lobbed it toward the back fence. She gave chase as he turned back to Verity, who was attacking the other side of the hood.

“Miles can be a pain in the ass,” he admitted, “but he’s not the only one.”

Verity’s eyes widened and she lifted her free hand to her chest, all teenage affront and hurt feelings. “Nice. Real nice. I’m surprised I have any self-esteem with the way the adults tasked with raising me are so quick to point out my flaws.”

“If you had any more self-esteem,” Urban told her as Bella raced toward them, ball in her mouth, “we’d have to widen the doorframes in the house to make room for your ego.”

Mouth pursed, Verity pondered that then nodded, the huge knot of hair on top of her head jiggling. “Yeah. Okay.” She jabbed the sponge in his direction. “But I’m taking that as a compliment.”

Urban waited until she was done rinsing off the hood before speaking again. “Miles was worried about you.”

She waved the hose in the air, had water arcing between them as if washing away his words. “He’s always worried. Seriously, it can’t be good for his health. He’s going to develop an ulcer.”

And she went back to spraying her car.

Urban gave the tennis ball another toss. When she approached the bucket again, he blocked her. “Last night reminded Miles of the accident.”

He didn’t need to explain which accident. There was only one that’d had such an effect on all their lives. Only one that had taken so much away from all of them.

“Did he…” She swallowed. “Did he say that?”

Urban shook his head. Miles never talked about what happened the night their parents died. “Said it scared the shit out of him, your car being in the ditch and you not around.”

She sighed. “Crap. That’s what I was afraid of.”

“You knew?”

“I suspected. I mean, he was completely freaked out—more so than usual. I figured it had to do with his PTSD about Mom and Dad.” She paused. “He really should get therapy for that.”

Hell, they could all probably use a good dose of therapy, but after all this time, it seemed too little, too late.

Can’t change the past. Just accept it and move on.

“You owe him an apology,” Urban said.

“Okay.”

Urban narrowed his eyes. That was it? Bella came back and dropped the ball at his feet. “Okay?”

“Yeah.”

“You’ll apologize?” he asked because when it came to his sister, he’d learned to get confirmation.

If not an oath written in blood.

“I was always going to apologize. It’s just galling, you know? I mean, I get that I did wrong and need to make amends and blah, blah, blah… but I really, really hate that he’s the one who had to find out about it. That anyone had to find out about it. Especially when I got caught before I technically broke any rules.”

No way in hell was he going to call her on her bullshit. She broke the rules the second she headed toward that party instead of coming straight home after work.

“I’ll go see Miles after I finish washing my car.” She snapped her fingers. “Darn it. I forgot. My car’s been confiscated. That’s too bad. Now he’ll have to wait two whole weeks to hear me grovel for his forgiveness. Unless there’s some special dispensation for prisoners going to deliver sincere and heartfelt apologies?”

And she cupped her hands beneath her chin and batted her lashes.

Christ, but he had his work cut out for him.

He’d decided that while he wouldn’t ground her, what with her being a recent high school grad and an almost legal adult and all, he would take away her car for two weeks.

He had a feeling it was going to hurt him more than it did her.

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