Page 5 of Shattered

“I know you’re not and I was outta line with my comment too.”

“The truth of it is, I do want to get to know your sister better. There’s something between us I can’t explain, however, my interest in Jade is irrelevant to our situation. It has nothing to do with why I went to bat for you.”

“Then why’d you do it?”

Stopping at a red light, I angled my body to face him.

“I see you, Jett. I see the boy who’d do anything to protect his family, regardless of the consequences those actions might bring. I see you, Jett, because I acted the same way after my father was killed.”

Jade

I was pathetic, a glutton for punishment. It was the only reasonable explanation why I’d texted Koen when I’d strolled in from work to an empty house. I could lay all the blame on my neglected lady parts, since they screamed in protest over any attempt I made to maintain a modicum of distance between myself and the insanely gorgeous special agent. But the truth of the matter was, since the moment he’d shown up alongside Keaton at Over Easy in time to save Henley from a certain jackass, I was captivated.

Initially, I blew it off, not wanting to deal with the awkwardness, which would inevitably arise when things didn’t work out. I thought we were both on the same page until a series of unfortunate events led to Henley and I being attacked one night after work, then ultimately kidnapped by a serial killer. Koen’s protective instinctscame roaring to the surface, blindsiding me with its intensity.

Suddenly, he was everywhere and I felt like I couldn’t breathe.

Under normal circumstances, I would have preened at the attention he showered me with, yet I held myself back…and not just with him. After Jett’s confession, I’d turned down countless invitations from my only two friends to get together, using every excuse in my arsenal to avoid them. I was mortified, plain and simple, coupled with an extreme case of guilt for not seeing what was happening with my baby brother. It was a heady combination.

“You’re useless, Jade Amber.” The sting of my mother’s backhand hurt less than her vile words. Biting the inside of my cheek, I held on to the tears threatening to fall. They would only make it worse. Trumbles didn’t cry. “Get this shithole cleaned up. We’ve got people coming over tonight.”

Shaking off the memory, I paced back and forth across the spotless living room floor, waiting for news from Koen. Lately, I’d found myself hurled into the past more often than not; to a place where I was a scared little girl fighting for Jett’s and my survival. The nightmares had come back with a vengeance, meaning sleep no longer held any appeal. It was moments such as these when I missed my gran something fierce. She would’ve known what to do.

When we first came to live with her, I was apprehensive, not knowing what to expect, since we’d spent so little time with her growing up. But it was like night and day. Gran was the polar opposite of the woman who’d birthed us. So much so, I often questioned if they were actually related. She even helped me get legal guardianship over Jett, considering the papers my parents left were bogus.

We spent three extraordinary years with her, then inthe blink of an eye, she was gone, and we were alone in the world a second time. Her life insurance policy was large enough to pay off the house she left me in her will, and the small amount remaining would have supported us for a few months if our no-good parents hadn’t fucked us over once again.

We hadn’t heard a peep from them since the day they took off, but less than two months after Gran’s funeral, the losers showed up on our doorstep with their hands held out. Obviously, I told them to kick rocks and blow bubbles, but the two goons standing behind them, who pushed their way inside the house, didn’t appreciate my sentiment. It only took a couple of well-placed punches to my ribs and the threat of worse being done to Jett for me to hand over the almost two thousand dollars I’d hidden underneath a loose floorboard in my bedroom. Foolishly, I assumed it would be their last visit.

Months later, I continued to struggle with keeping the lights on plus food on the table with my income from working at a local grocery store. It wasn’t until I learned about a freelance opportunity from a former teacher, did I feel the tightness in my chest begin to loosen up. She put me in touch with a few indie romance authors who were looking for an editor and, before I knew it, my client list reached double digits. Then, when life started to look not quite as bleak, the grocery store let me go.

I’d pretty much given up hope when I spotted the help wanted sign in the window of Over Easy. Shirley Rae, the owner, took one look at the desperation written all over my face and gave me the job on the spot. From there, I met Henley and a short time later, Lanie.

In my previous experience, friendships came and went like the tide, but these two pulled me into the fold andrefused to let go. Even after discovering the role Jett played in her shitshow, Henley continued to reach out. Every text, every time she begged me to meet up, as if nothing had happened, was a reminder of how badly I’d screwed up. It was my job to protect Jett, to keep him on a path headed toward greatness, yet I’d failed him miserably.

Pacing the floor in the living room, I was so lost in my head I nearly dropped the phone in my hand when it dinged with an incoming text.

Koen: I’ve got him.

Thank God.

Me: Thank you!

Koen: Always, Angel.

Taking my first full breath since I got home from work, I moved to the kitchen in search of something to make for dinner. Cooking was not my forte by any stretch of the imagination, but our nightly meal and the conversations we had around the table were how I kept a pulse on what was going on in Jett’s life. He’d been quiet lately, more than usual. Most of the time, it was a struggle to get him to give me more than one word answers.

Pulling a package of ground beef from the refrigerator, I grabbed a skillet out of the cabinet, then flipped on the front burner of the ancient stove. It was Tuesday after all, so tacos would have to do.

The sizzling and popping of the beef wasn’t enough of a distraction as I took in the state of our home. From the outside, the yellowish-brown paint was peeling and worn from years of neglect, yet it held a certain beauty that wastimeless. Inside, the old Victorian had good bones, but she needed a makeover something fierce. The walls were covered in the same faded floral wallpaper Gran had chosen when the house was built twenty-five years ago, except two walls in the hallway leading to the living room, where I’d painstakingly stripped the hideous wall covering and painted them a deep gray.

There was still so much work to be done, but renovating cost a lot of money and time. Both of which I didn’t have. It was no wonder Jett got himself into trouble.Dammit.Just another way I’d failed to shield my brother.

Returning my focus to dinner before it burned, I stirred and seasoned the meat until all the pink was an even golden brown, then dumped the contents into a colander in the sink to drain the grease.

I’d just finished chopping vegetables and toasting the shells in the oven when the front door opened then closed. Whispered voices along with two separate sets of footsteps sounded against the hardwood floors, causing my insides to flip-flop as they approached. It wasn’t that I disliked Koen, in fact it was the opposite. I liked him so much it scared the ever-loving shit outta me.

Jett entered the kitchen first, his brown eyes teeming with remorse as he strode across the small distance between us, wrapping me in his arms.

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