Page 47 of Done with You

It stuck again, and it was closer to the center of the bullseye than Jordan’s. “The kid okay?” he asked, walking forward to unstick his axe.

Jordan nodded. “Won’t be having much fun this Christmas—two broken legs—but he’s alive. His cat got out—an indoor cat—and he took off after it. Wasn’t even looking at traffic, was just too concerned for his pet. Nine years old. Thank God it wasn’t a busy road, and the person that hit him was only going fifty.”

“Person sober?” Aiden asked. He had to ask.

Jordan nodded. “Yeah. It was at like ten this morning. A mom heading out to do some last-minute Christmas shopping. Her kids were with the sitter. She sneezed and that was all it took not to see the kid on the road.”

“Fuck,” Aiden groaned.

“She’s devastated, of course. Was barely consolable. Ended up having to sedate her, she was losing her shit so bad.”

That had probably also been pretty triggering for Jordan to witness, since they’d both been there when the news of Dallas’s death was broke to his mom. She’d collapsed to her knees and sobbed, screamed and raged unlike any person Aiden had ever witnessed before. Mind you, he’d just been a teenager then, not a cop, so he hadn’t seen much in the way of breakdowns yet. But that had been his first and it stuck with him.

“Family pressing charges?” he asked.

Jordan shook his head. “Don’t think so. It was all an accident. Security footage from a neighbor’s yard saw her sneeze and close her eyes, just as the kid stepped in front of the car. Total accident. No fault.”

“Doesn’t mean they’re all not going to suffer.”

Jordan threw his axe again. It landed even closer to the center than Aiden’s had. “Nope. But at least the kid survived and the collateral damage seems minimal.”

“Yeah, at least.” Unlike the collateral damage that Dallas’s death had caused. And Dallas’s death could have been prevented. Jordan and Aiden had tried to prevent it from happening. But they clearly hadn’t tried hard enough.

They took a break to eat their subs, then resumed throwing.

“You ever talk to anybody?” Jordan asked, having decided after their dinner break that he was only going to throw with one hand.

“What do you mean?” Aiden asked, scrunching up his wrapper and napkin and tossing them into the trash.

“About Dallas. About Dad and all that shit that went down. I was pretty messed up for a long time, took losing Rayma to finally get me to see that I needed to talk to a pro.”

Aiden swallowed. “I uh … I’m ‘sposed to start seeing someone when I get back. Long waitlists and shit.”

Jordan nodded and retrieved his axe from the board. “Yeah, I know. I’m lucky that Joy—who you’ll meet—is a licensed therapist. Specializes in family and sexuality, mind you, but she knows her way around PTSD and grief counseling, too. Her first husband was a cop, so she gets it.”

All Aiden could do was grunt. Talking about Dallas and their parents was the last thing he wanted to do right now. But he could tell that it was eating away at the stress Jordan carried for them to discuss it. To get out in the open the wedge that had destroyed their family and the talk about the grief and regret that he and Jordan shared and had ultimately driven them apart.

Did he tell his brother that he was suspended because of anger? That he’d punched a guy he pulled over because he’d been drunk and had his kid in the car? How would Jordan react? What would he think? Maybe he wouldn’t want someone so volatile in his house around his fiancée. Maybe he wouldn’t want someone with anger issues in his life at all.

Jordan seemed to be in a way better place than Aiden. He was talking through his issues with someone, he had his job, he had a family and was about to get married. He had picked himself up after losing their family and built himself something to be proud of.

What the fuck had Aiden done? Not much besides become a cop.

But he had no relationship, no family and at the moment, no job. All he had to keep him warm at night was his anger, and that wasn’t the most comforting or understanding of bedmates.

Their hour was up before they knew it. Next came the knife throwing, but Aiden was tired and asked Jordan if he minded if they rescheduled. Jordan seemed disappointed, but he agreed and drove them home.

They were almost at the front door when Jordan rested a hand on Aiden’s shoulder and had him stand still for a sec. “I can give Joy a call and see if she can squeeze you in,” Jordan offered. “If you’re itching to talk to someone?” His smile was lopsided and small. Hopeful, but also wary.

Aiden made a noise in his throat. “Thanks, but I think I can wait until I get back.”

All Jordan did was nod. “Thanks for the subs and the axe throwing, that was fun.”

“Yeah, no worries. Sorry about the axe throwing, I didn’t sleep great.”

“Is the couch uncomfortable?”

“No …” But his hard cock the entire night because of the sexy pain in the ass in the other room was sure uncomfortable. Just because he got his rocks off this morning, didn’t mean he wasn’t going to endure the same bullshit tonight. He already knew he would. Oona infuriated him as much as she turned him on. And she really fucking turned him on. “Just new house, new bed, time change, all that shit. I’m sure I’ll be better tonight.”

---