Page 116 of Finding Hope

He gets me. He doesn’t question my ridiculous request. He doesn’t make me feel like an idiot. He simply let’s me be me, and he supports my choices like he always has.

I love my brother.

I’ve loved him since the day he started loving Kit.

“Thanks. We’ll talk about it some more, and I’ll start organizing my shit in the coming weeks.”

“No rush. You can stay as long as you want–” With the serious stuff out of the way, he goes back to patting his pockets. “–Where the fuck are my keys? I can’t find them anywhere.”

Snorting, Jon steps past us and moves to his truck. “That’s because Kit took your car, dumbass.”

“Huh?”

Jon waves his arm toward the almost empty parking lot. “Do you see your SUV? No. Kit took it already.”

“What? How the hell am I supposed to get home?” He pouts. “Why would she leave me?”

“Jesus,” Jon grumbles. “You really are getting old. You do realize we live at the same place, right? All three of us are going in the same direction!” He looks to me. “How long do peacocks usually live? Has he passed his expiration date?”

I laugh.Why would she leave me?He’s such a baby. “Get in my car, B. I’ll take you back to your mommy.”

Huffing, he walks to the Mustang and waits for Annie to leap through the door. Climbing in on my side, I switch on the ignition and grin like a fool when the engine roars. I miss the Rav, but I fucking love my Mustang. I’ll never get rid of this car.

Pulling onto the street ahead of Jon’s F150, we cruise across town the only way we know how; loud, conspicuous.

Not giving a fuck.

“So, you and Britt…”

Smiling, I pull a hat down over my eyes to block the low hanging sun. “Yep. Me and Britt.”

“I like her.”

“Me, too. I like her a lot.”

“You know, I loved your sister from the start. I knew I loved her before our first date.”

Driving, nodding, Ishouldbe grossed out. He’s talking about my sister… But I’m not. I see the love he has for her. I’ve seen it since the day he picked her up for their first date. I saw it when I was a fifteen-year-old punk who took it upon himself to ask Bobby his intentions. I was scared out of my fucking brains to ask, but like he doesn’t laugh my fear of ghosts off, he didn’t laugh my question off, either.

He listened.

He answered.

He could’ve told me to shut the fuck up. He could’ve told me it was none of my damn business. He could’ve reminded me I was fifteen years old and brushed me off.

But he didn’t.

“Yeah, I know you loved her, B. Nobody ever loved anybody as much as you loved her.”

“Stilllove her.”

I clear my throat. “Yeah.”

“What are your intentions, Jack?”

I bark out a laugh as we – coincidentally – pass the cemetery. It’s like he could read my mind. “Are you her dad, or her brother?”

“Neither. But I’myourbrother. I just wanna know where your head’s at.”

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