Page 63 of False Start

“I won’t screw up this time.”

“You didn’t screw up last time either. And when it comes to our brother—”

Her words sliced into my chest, the only place I could keep my twin safe now. Even if the only thing I could protect was his memory. “Don’t go there.”

“Abel made his own choices.”

Son of a bitch. “I’m the oldest.”

Her hands went to her lower back where she dug her fingertips into her muscles. “By six minutes, Cain. You’re the oldest by six damn minutes. You’re putting how many years’ worth of responsibility on six minutes?”

“Six minutes is still older. And you need off this concrete.” I nodded to the door, hoping she’d take the hint. “You should go inside.”

“Yeah, well…if it makes you feel any better, you’re not the smartest.”

“Ouch.”

She cocked her head with a smug grin on her face. “Someone had to tell you.”

I grinned up at her. “Point taken, Mouth.”

She bent down and wiped my cheek before pressing a kiss to it. “And you’re a damn good coach.”

She'd never said those words. My history coaching had only fueled attitude and frustration from her—with me, with the way this town turned against me after Lana's accident, and with how I wouldn’t help her understand.

Sweet relief slid through me, my skin tingling with the rush, knowing that even now, after all that I’d done, the mistakes I’d made, my sister believed in me. “Thank you.”

“Okay,” she said, clapping her hands and rubbing them together. “Since I can’t talk you out of the heartbreak you’re headed for, what can I do to help?”

“Just keep my nephew in for another month while we train.”

“You’ll need to go to Philly with them—”

“I’m not leaving you.”

“Cain, they’re going to need you there.”

“I said I’m not leaving.” I shot her the same look I gave suspects when they took advantage of my demeanor and got mouthy. Hell, I had to keep up my skills.

“Okay, we’ll talk about that part at another time—”

“Looking forward to it,” I muttered.

“Hey, don’t make me practice my mom voice on you.”

“You don’t have a—”

A knock echoed through the room, cutting off what I was about to say. I climbed to my feet, grabbed a rag, and walked around to the straightaway, my feet rooting to the spot when I saw the familiar face standing there.

“Word around town is Beautifully Brutal is training to save Crossroads,” Tilly said from the door. “I want in.”

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