Page 11 of These Jagged Edges

In short, fuck yeah, she’s pretty.

No, it’s the way she has the audacity to challenge me, even while her body trembles with fear. There’s a fire in her eyes that ignites something deep within me—something I thought I had buried long ago.

I gently pick her up and cradle her close to my chest. The woman needs a shower, but I sure as hell am not about to give her one. I may be angry at the world, but I still have morals, even if they are slightly skewed.

I open two doors before finding her room. It’s covered in soft pastels and white, accurately representing the woman in my arms, and in every fucking way opposite of me. The well-worn copy ofPride and Prejudicebeside her bed doesn’t surprise me at all.

No matter how she tries to hide it, the woman brings sunshine everywhere she goes. Even assholes like me can’t help but be drawn to her. From the moment she screamed fuck you in my face, I was mesmerized by her. Her hair fluttered around her face, and with a fierce look in her eyes, I couldn't speak. That single encounter has flashed a bright light in my dark world, and I don’t like it. Not one fucking bit.

Gently laying her on her bed, I run a finger down the side of her face. In another life, I would act on this attraction I have to her, but then again, in another life... I close my eyes, welcoming the familiar feeling of anger, letting it flood my senses like a thunderstorm.

Anger is familiar, it’s something I can navigate with ease. Call me a chicken shit, but anger is easier to face.

I open my eyes to find two staring back at me. "Where are my boys?" she demands, panic lacing her words.

I cross my arms over my chest. "Getting dressed."

"Why are you here?"

"Your children came looking for my brother, scared half to death because you wouldn't wake up. He wasn't around, but I was," I told her, not masking my irritation.

She attempts to get up, but I take a hand and gently push her back. "You aren't going anywhere, you’re sick woman. Mercy is on his way to sit with the boys while I call Lou."

Evie waves a hand weakly in the air. "No, no. I'm fine. I got this,” she barely manages to get out before her eyes close from exhaustion.

I chose to ignore her weak reply. "Do you have any ibuprofen?"

She slightly nods her head and points to the bathroom. After finding it and a water bottle on her nightstand, I make sure she takes medicine before heading out to call Lou.

Thirty minutes later, I'm sitting on the steps watching the boys chase the dog around the yard when my brother pulls up. He quietly assesses me before coming to sit beside me.

He watches the boys chase the dog around the yard. "No, Louisiana?" Mercy and my mother were the only two who got away with calling Lou by her full name. Ever since Mercy was little, he found Lou’s name fascinating. He was convinced for the longest time that the state was named after her. We let him believe it, right up until he argued with his first-grade teacher about where the name really came from. Mama didn’t find it as funny as Henry and I did.

"Nope. Had something come up with her sister, and Aunt Joe hasn't picked up."

"So, you sat here with them?" he asked, pointing between the house and the boys.

"Yep." I can feel his gaze on my face. Knowing where this is headed, I put a hand up. "Don't."

Mercy says nothing, long enough for me to believe he'd drop it, but I should have known better. "I'm proud of you. I can't imagine how hard this is for you.” He sits and looks longingly at the boys before continuing, “She'd be proud of you."

"Well, she's not here to fucking say it, now, is she?" Every time someone brings her up, the hole in me gets bigger and bigger. As if pieces of me are chipped away to fuel the anger and hatred that runs rampant in my life like a blazing fire. As I watch the boys, that fire burns hotter; she’d be about their age now. She should be here, running and playing. Chasing her own dog in her own yard. Bitterly I push that thought aside.

"Some days I'm glad she's not. You forget losing her affected us all, but I didn't just lose my niece that day. I also lost my brother and best friend." Mercy pauses, taking a deep breath. "I'm just saying that Livvy would be proud of you for being a decent human being. Like you once were, to Evie and those boys today and not being the cold closed off asshole they’ve grown to know."

“Merc.”

“Why are you back here?”

Was he serious?

“You almostdiedMerc.” We nearly lost him on his last tour, blown up in a distant desert with no family by his side. So, why the hell wouldn’t I move back home for him? He’s my brother.

He scoffs like my answer offends him, “I don’t need you, just like you didn’t need any of us when Livvy died.”

With that, he stands and heads for the boys. I say nothing because what the fuck could I say to that.

Chapter Six

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