Page 155 of Eight Years Gone

Colton shrugged again. “I guess we’ve all got our problems.” But there was no derision in the words as he spoke them.

Jagger sensed that Colton was waking up to the fact that things weren’t always as they appeared, especially when he’d gathered his facts from a couple of pictures he’d found on the internet. “Grace and Logan hardly had the perfect family. Steve was far from father of the year.”

“At least he acknowledged them.”

Jagger nodded. “When it suited him. Steve was a hell of a doctor—world-renowned. Everyone got the best of him. Except for his kids. All three of them.”

Colton looked at him. “He means nothing to me.”

Jagger didn’t believe that. “You’re pissed at him. I get that. Or I get it as much as I can. I had daddy issues, too. Mine left when I was two, popped back up in my life when I was in third grade, bought me a bike and stuck around long enough for me to get my hopes up before he disappeared again. I haven’t seen him since.”

Colton had nothing to say about that.

“Steve could be a selfish dick,” Jagger continued. “There’s no doubt about it. He was careless with the people who needed him the most.”

Colton swallowed as he stared out the windshield.

“I guess my question to you is, will you do what your brother did? Are you going to let your anger at Steve and the world, in general, be the reason you spiral?”

Colton glared now. “I’m not Logan. I didn’t even know him.”

Jagger shrugged this time. “You didn’t know him, but you’re doing a hell of a job of following in his footsteps.”

Colton’s glare was back. “What the hell does that even mean? I got arrested for punching some dickwad in the face.”

“You’ve been arrested twice,” Jagger reminded him.

“So? I don’t take drugs. I don’t plan to get myself shot.”

Jagger ignored Colton’s comments. “Logan did his best to make Steve pay—and I guess in the end, he did. But he’s dead, so… Logan never had the chance to figure out that the only person he was destroying was himself. He hurt Steve. He devastated Grace. He messed me up pretty good too. But we’re still here, living. Maybe you won’t end up addicted to drugs and shot the way Logan did. But there’s prison. There’s living in squalor the way I did for half my life. Maybe you’ll have the chance to figure out what Logan couldn’t. You making a mess of your life to pay him back will only fuck you in the end.”

“I’m not Logan,” Colton muttered again.

“Things in Millsdale seem a little rough,” Jagger continued, getting straight to the point. “Maybe you might want to think about giving Preston Valley a shot. Living with me and Grace for a while.”

Colton huffed out a laugh. “So, I get arrested, and now I’m supposed to stay with you and Grace? You two can’t help me. I don’t even know you.”

Jagger shrugged. “So, you’ll get to know us. We’re willing to give it a try—to give you a fresh start if that’s what you and your mom want.”

“And what do you get out of it?”

“Honestly, not a whole damn lot. But family means everything to Grace, and Grace means everything to me. So, there you go.”

“I’m not Grace’s family.”

Jagger jerked his shoulders again. “We’re giving you a chance. You get to decide what you’ll do with it. But here’s a promise. Logan made Grace’s life a living hell during the last couple of years he was alive. The rehab. The relapses. The verbal abuse. When Logan died, it absolutely destroyed her. I seriously messed things up with her too. But I won’t let you hurt her that way. You’ll either get your shit together or you can be gone. Zero tolerance. That’s the bottom line. Again, you get to decide.”

Colton exhaled a quiet breath. “I don’t know.”

“You have time to think about it—until we track down your mom.” He turned over the ignition before he sent off a quick text.

We’re heading home. We’ll see you right around six.

He accelerated around the driveway. “But I have every intention of going home to eat. Grace is making lasagna. She’s a damn good cook.”

Thirty-Nine

Grace closed the pantry door, having put away the last of the groceries after a quick run to the store. She glanced at the clock and then toward the darkening sky, calculating that the guys would be home in about two hours.

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