Page 27 of Out of Sight

“I am a member of law enforcement. It’s my duty to uphold the law, and the law states that a convicted felon should not possess a firearm. You are a convicted felon, and therefore I cannot in good faith hand you a gun, even for self-defense.”

Instead he placed it very deliberately on the end table, taking several steps back and nodding his chin to it while keeping his eyes on me. It took some effort not to be rough and grab it and shove it down my waistband, but I managed to slow my roll and double check the safety before positioning it near the family jewels.

“I’ll be back in an hour,” Jim reiterated, leaving Claire and I alone.

She avoided my gaze as she grabbed a Danish from the counter, sitting at the table to eat. I watched her nibble for a little bit before she finally gave up, dropping the pastry and lifting her gaze. Those gorgeous honey eyes looked so guilt-ridden.

“Is she okay now? Your sister?”

“As okay as she can be. She’s in a care facility because she’s a paraplegic and has some neurological issues. Needs lots of help. She was only nineteen when it happened.”

“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.”

“Of course you didn’t. Nobody really does. Except the FBI and US Marshals apparently, since they’re paying for her care while I’m dealing with this Morelli mess. I’ve never really evengotten to visit her much, since I was arrested right after it happened.”

Man, I’m a shit brother.I shook off the pity party and continued.

“When I got out of prison I came to the city to try and find a job so we could afford something better than state care for her. But then nobody wanted to hire convicted felon, especially with a violent crime under my belt, so I ended up doing odd jobs under the table, and that led to more illegal shit and now I’m here.”

And Kaylie was almost a thousand miles away from where I was in Portland. Did she even know where I was, what happened to me? Did someone tell her anything, or would it all be just like I disappeared? I tried to call her every week or so now that I was out of prison, but I missed some weeks.

She never complained, but maybe she didn’t even really notice. Maybe she’d just think I was the crap brother who never cared and she’d never know the truth until someone had to tell my next of kin I was dead.

I was already trying my best to be a better person and make up for what happened with Mario Costa, but I needed to do more. If we made it through all this I would be a better brother to Kaylie. I’d see her a hell of a lot more often. I’d find a legitimate way to make enough money, even if it meant working three jobs to pay for her care. I’d do right by her. If we made it through.

eleven

Claire

It’s possible that Will wasn’t a complete scumbag sleaze-ball. Hell, it’s possible that he was a good person who just got turned around trying to help his sister.

Who would have thought?

I didn’t have much time to dwell on it before Will changed the subject in his usual dirty way.

“But I just want to point out once and for all that nothing about my cock is ‘micro.’ I am nine good, long, girthy inches. You can use your gorgeous little hands and get a tape measure if you want!”

I burst out laughing. I couldn’t help it. I didn’t even have it in me to slap him. But that was all it took for us to get past the emotional moment. I didn’t pity Will exactly, but I felt for him, something I wasn’t altogether comfortable with.

I was relieved when Jim came back with a couple hotel gym bags, presumably stuffed with clothes and toiletries for each of us. His return meant that we could hit the road again.

In an obvious attempt to steer us away from heavy topics, Will took control of the conversation in the car. “What is a goddamn US Marshal doing with a janky-old gun like that? Can you even fire that thing anymore?”

Jim grasped his chest and affected a distressed look. “Don’t talk about my Peacemaker that way. That’s a Colt Single Action Army revolver, made over a century and a half ago. It’s been handed down for generations in my family. You show it some goddamn respect.”

“Doesn’t answer the question. Don’t you have a government issued weapon? Does that one even work?”

“I have my Glock handy right here,” he said, taking one hand off the wheel to pat the holster at his waist. “But it never hurts to carry two guns. You never know when you’ll need a spare.”

“Maybe you’ll need one when your old-ass gun doesn’t fire right,” Will mused.

“Hey, you’re supposed to be teasing and pissing off Claire, not me. Knock it off.” But Jim was grinning so all was well. Those two were like peas in a pod. I shook my head at their antics as we all lapsed into silence.

We took the 84 east out of Portland and into the wild greens and curving roads of the Columbia Gorge. We were on the road for about twenty minutes when Jim spoke again.

“We’re almost there, so let’s talk about the rules now.”

“Rules?” Will asked from his place in the back seat; the damn gentleman let me ride shotgun even when I didn’t call it.

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