Page 139 of Killer Kiss

He shrugged. “It’s a bit of a wait-and-see game.”

“You going to be able to use them?”

Banjo rubbed one across the back of his neck. “I mean, yeah. He said I should heal nicely, with time.”

“You don’t have time. You’re in the middle of the college football season.”

He waved his hands at me. “Not anymore.”

My heart fell. “You can’t miss this last part of your senior year. It’ll ruin all your chances of going pro.”

Banjo smiled at me fondly. “You were the only one who thought I was going pro, Aug.”

I hadn’t dared show up at his recent games, but I’d been at all his high school ones. I’d kept up with his college highlights on YouTube. “You’re good!” I insisted.

“Decent,” he admitted. “Not pro-level good. I probably should have given it up a while ago, but I love it. And I’ll continue loving it, playing with Colt and Rafe and Luna in the backyard. Or on weekends with friends. But I was never going pro, even before this.” He nudged me with his elbow. “I appreciate the blind support though.”

I smiled back, finally relenting in the face of his sensible argument. “Always.”

We both stared across the road at the little café. Through the big glass window at the front, our mother could be seen moving around, serving coffee.

Looking all sweet and innocent as she delivered food to tables.

All while knowing she’d tried to have both of us killed for a couple hundred thousand dollars.

“I’m so stupid for letting her back into my life,” Banjo said, regret heavy in his tone. “I brought this on myself by telling her about Selina leaving me money before she went into jail.”

I shook my head. “You couldn’t have known they were capable of this. You didn’t even know them. I remember them from when we were kids, and even though they were shitty parents, I would have never picked them to be this desperate.”

“You sure you want to go in there?” Banjo asked.

I didn’t. But I knew Banjo did, and I wasn’t letting him go in alone.

We were brothers. It was a relationship I was never going to take for granted again.

We both set off across the street. I opened the door for him, since his hands weren’t much help to him right now, and he entered the little shop, me close behind him.

“Take a seat anywhere,” Mom called without lifting her head. “I’ll be right with you.”

“Mom,” Banjo said quietly.

She turned around, a smile stretching across her face. “Banjo! Sweetie, I wasn’t expecting you.”

Her gaze slid to me, and her eyes widened. “Augie!”

Neither of us replied. Second by second, her smile fell away. “Take a seat. I’m due for a break. I’ll join you in just a moment.”

Banjo and I took a booth in the back, away from all the other customers. I was glad. What I had to say to this woman didn’t need to be heard by anyone else.

She slid into the other side of the booth a moment later, her apron twisted in her aged hands.

She seemed so much older than I remembered. Smaller. Frailer.

Still not a parent.

“You know, don’t you?” she asked softly.

“Yes,” Banjo replied.

---