Page 98 of Everything We Left Behind

James calls Julian upon landing in San Jose. The call goes to voice mail so he hangs up and sends a text:Call me.

He also sends one to Natalya. She immediately replies. James watches the three dots blink below his text as he exits the plane. He could kiss his phone when it comes through.

We’re at the St.Regis, swimming and having lunch with Dad and Claire.

How are the kids?he responds.

Marcus is great. Having fun chasing Dad in the pool. Julian isn’t talking to anyone, but he is here.

She attaches a photo of Julian on a lounge chair, headphones on, face in his phone’s screen. Which means Julian has seen his text. James checks. Sure enough, the message shows it’s been read.

Another text comes through.

I forgot to tell you I love you. I love you.

James stares at the message. Aimee regularly texted those words and he always replied in kind because he loved her beyond anything or anyone else in his life. She’d been his one and only. He cares for Natalya, but he still carries around Aimee’s engagement ring, for God’s sake.

With that thought, he feels the ring burn in his pocket, as though the platinum is molten hot, reminding him it’s still there. Aside from showering, running, and swimming, it hasn’t left his person in more than six months. He even had it on him when he spent last night with Natalya. What kind of man does that?

One who isn’t ready to forget his past, that’s for sure.

His thumbs hover over the keyboard and he finally texts back a message before sliding the phone into his pocket.

I’ll call you tonight.

James hires a cab. He doesn’t want to return to his parents’ house, but he has a couple of hours to kill before meeting Thomas and Phil at the restaurant. He lets himself into the stale house through the front door. He drops his suitcase and carry-on in the entryway and heads toward the kitchen for a glass of water.

He walks through the main room and movement in the corner of his eye snags his attention. “Jesus Christ.” James’s heart rockets into his throat.

Thomas lounges on the leather sofa swirling a lowball of whiskey on ice. James doesn’t have to smell it to know it’s Johnny Walker.

“I found an unopened bottle in the library. I think it’s leftover from Dad.”

Then it had been there for some time because their father died more than seven years ago.

“What the hell are you doing here?”And how did you get in?James had changed the damned locks.

Thomas takes a leisurely sip. “Have you remembered anything about that day in Mexico?”

Seriously? That’s what this is about?“Some.”

“Does it help me?”

“I doubt it.”

Thomas blows through his lips. “That’s unfortunate.”

James moves into the room, growing more uneasy by the second. “Fernando Ruiz is behind bars. My life is no longer in danger from his cartel, if it ever was. There isn’t anything further I can add to the DEA’s case because that case has been resolved. What difference does it make whether I remember or not?”

His chest expands on a deep inhale; then he speaks slowly, punctuating each word, his voice rising with each sentence. “I want to know what happened on that damn boat and the role Phil played. Because I want Phil’s ass back in prison. I want Mom to cut him off. I want him fucking out of our lives.”

A chill moves up James’s spine. “Where’s Phil?”

Thomas peers into his glass. He tilts it back and forth.

“Thomas. Where is Phil?”

James’s phone rings. He looks at the screen. Julian’s face flashes. His gaze snags in Thomas’s the same moment he answers the phone. The same moment Thomas says, “Kauai.” And at the same moment Phil greets him on the other end of the line.

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