Page 116 of Remiss
“An odd choice of words but–”
“But nothing,” Axel said in frustration. “Shouldn’t he have said a smoky death? Why bloody? I think that rectory was burned on purpose and somebody let him live. That’s how Dad would think. Haven’t you been in the fucking club for a century already? Doyoubelieve in incidences?”
He wouldn’t bother to correct Axel.
“This is too big of a one, D. That’s why I’mprobablycoming home ‘cause I need to question Uncle Johnnie. That motherfucker knows what happened. He might’ve even set the stupid fire.”
“How about you call Uncle Christopher?” Diesel suggested, his mind whirling.
Judging by his narrowed eyes, so was Uncle Christopher’s.
“Nope, ‘cause I don’t want to feel sorry for Dad, and I know I will ‘cause I know he’s sad about Mom.”
“He deserves sympathy.”
“Nope. He sure doesn’t. Neither does you, me, CJ, Ransom, or Ryder. We all hurt Mom. I’ve had to listen to that woman suffer because of us and that wears on a man, Diesel.”
It sure the fuck did. “Can I talk to her?” he whispered.
“You’re going to upset her, then I won’t make a…formed decision. It’ll be biased.”
“Very well said, little brother,” Diesel said quietly. “But it’s informed.” He would know biased in a legal framework. “And I promise I won’t upset her. I just want to say ‘hi’ to her.”
“Fine,” Axel said with a sigh. “Just remember, I reserve the right to disconnect and never trust you with her feelings again. Mom!”
The sound of little feet running over hardwood traveled through the line before a quick knock, then a door creaking.
“Mom! Diesel’s on the phone. Oh, hey, Reb.”
Agitation slid into Diesel.
“You both look so pretty.”
“Put the phone on speaker, son,” Aunt Meggie instructed.
“There you go. Diesel–”
“I’m going downstairs, Momma,” Rebel said, so sad and defeated.
Diesel glanced at Jana. Her fear had evaporated, and she sat in her chair so sweetly and innocently. Trusting. But suddenly he knew he’d made a monumental mistake by bringing her there today. He should’ve waited until Rebel was back.
“But I want to swim with you,” Axel said as if he were responding to something Diesel missed.
“I don’t like swimming,” Rebel said.
“Yes, you do!” Axel protested.
“Sit, Rebel,” Aunt Meggie instructed. “What can I do for you, Diesel?”
“I-I just wanted to hear your voice,” Diesel told her. “I-I miss you.”
A sniffle traveled through the line. At first he thought it was Aunt Meggie until he heard Axel say, “Don’t cry, Reb. I won’t ask you to swim no more.”
Diesel closed his eyes, the sound of Rebel’s heartache cutting through him.
“Is Jana there, Diesel?” Aunt Meggie asked.
She’d seen the cameras.
