Page 49 of May 11

If he were a better man, he would've sent her away six weeks ago.

But he was an asshole.

He'd had too many things taken away from him throughout his life. What he wanted to keep, he held onto tightly.

Instead of answering, he said, "There's a photograph in your purse. I noticed it when I put your phone inside the bag this morning."

She stretched across the bed and picked up her shirt, slipping it over her head. "I know what's in my purse."

He took a cigarette and put it between his lips without lighting it. "What is he to you?"

"I'll tell you, but..." She raised her brows and sat cross-legged on the makeshift bed. "Can you answer my question first?"

He stared at her. "You should go. Get away from the shit surrounding the club. But I don't want you to leave me."

Her gaze softened, and she hugged her middle. "I don't want to leave you, either."

"Do you have someone waiting for you to return?"

She shook her head. "You're overthinking. That's not why I carry a picture in my purse."

He grunted. Not used to putting himself out there for any woman, he was uncomfortable knowing she could see right through him.

"I don't share, babe. Not when it comes to you."

She swallowed hard. "I have to leave at the end of summer."

He took the unlit cigarette out of his mouth and slid it behind his ear. "That's your choice. Not mine."

"What are you saying?" When she failed to get the answer she wanted fast enough, she said, "Wire?"

He leaned his hip against the counter. "Tell me what you have going on with the guy in that picture you carry around."

She shook her head almost as if she hated to change the subject. But he was backed into a corner. He'd told her what he wanted.

"It's a photo of my brother. His name is Jeff." She straightened her legs and let them hang off the edge of the bed. "I'm trying to find him."

"Your brother?"

She pursed her lips and nodded. His chin hit his chest, and he looked at his worn boots. That wasn't the answer he expected to get.

Cora stood, squeezed past him, and got a pair of her shorts out of the cabinet. When she moved to slip past him, he tagged her wrist and kept her in front of him.

"Why don't you know where your brother is?" he asked.

"Because I don't know him."

"You don't—"

"Can we sit and talk?" she asked. "It's been a long day. I haven't even caught my breath."

That was his fault. He'd jumped on her the moment they were inside the van.

He let go of her. "Give me a minute."

He opened the van door and closed it behind him to keep the interior cool. Then, he lit a cigarette and inhaled deeply. A brother?

He tried to remember what the man looked like in the photo but was drawing a blank. But if Cora had a brother, where the hell was he?

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