Page 143 of The Winslow Brothers

First, I try to hail a cab, but then, when the first five taxis I see are already occupied, I don’t wait any longer.

Feet to the pavement, I run. Away from that fucking Wendy’s and straight to the one person who can hopefully help me fix everything.

After three knocks to the door, I stand outside on the front porch, and the sky still hasn’t let up. It keeps assaulting me with big beads of rain, but I’m now numb to the cold and to the way my clothes stick to my body and my boots slosh with each step.

When no one answers, I pound my fist against the wood again.

Footsteps sound from the inside, and the front porch light flips on.

“Who the fuck is it?”

I grin when I make out Wes’s figure through the windows that run along the side of the door.

He swings it open and just stands there, looking at me like he’s not sure what to make of the situation.

“Hey, man.” I try to play it cool, you know, like I’m not a man in the middle of a nervous breakdown. “Is Winnie around?”

“Well, she is, but she’ssleeping,” he answers and tilts his head to the side when he starts to recognize my current state. “You okay?”

“Sort of.” I shake my head. “Actually, nah, not really.”

“Who is it?” my sister’s faint voice calls from behind Wes, and the breath I didn’t realize I was holding escapes from my chest.

“It’s one of your crazy brothers.”

“Jude?” Winnie asks, the instant her confused and sleepy gaze meets my face. She steps closer to the door, and her eyes go wide when she looks me up and down, taking in every inch of my drenched attire. “Holy hell, did you run?”

“Cabs were taking too long.”

“What are you doing here?” she questions and tightens her robe around her body. “Do you have any idea what time it is?”

Truthfully, no. I don’t have a clue. And I don’t really care. All this shit in my head. All these racing thoughts and regrets and visions of Sophie’s torn-up face when I left her apartment are eating me alive. I have to tell someone, and I need that someone to help me fucking fix it.

And I know if anyone can help me, it’s Winnie.

“Jude?”

“The fortune-teller is gone, and her shop is a fucking Wendy’s now.” It’s the first thing that pops out of my mouth, and Winnie’s face morphs into concern.

“Why don’t you come inside, Jude?” Wes acknowledges the fact that I’m still just standing outside in the rain. “You can dry off, I’ll grab you a beer, and you and Winnie can have a chat.”

He holds open the door and Winnie steps to the side, but the second I’m in their entryway, she’s wrapping her arm around mine, completely ignoring that I’m probably getting her wet, and leading me into the kitchen.

Wes hands me a fluffy cream bath towel and a beer, and I sit down at the table, across from my sister. My brother-in-law, though, doesn’t hang around. Instead, it appears, he goes back upstairs for the night.

“All right, Jude,” Winnie says, and her eyes peer into mine. “What on earth would make you run, like, I don’t even know how many miles in the rain at one in the morning?”

Normally, I would play it all off and joke around the truth. But I can’t tonight.

“Sophie.”

“Oh boy.” She inhales a deep breath and blows it out through pursed lips. “I had a feeling you were going to say that. Although, I’m surprised you spilled the beans without more pushing on my end.”

“I’m in love with her, Winnie.” I just blurt it out, and my sister’s brows nearly hit her forehead.

“And I definitely didn’t expect you to say that. Holy shit, Jude!” She reaches out to shove a hand into my arm.“You’re in love?”

“Don’t get too excited, sis. I fucked it all up.”

---