Page 17 of Fool Me

I’d heard about the avalanche from my mom—it was the one time she broke our unspoken agreement not to talk about him. She told me that Canyon was out on the mountain during the avalanche, and that he was moving, but other than knowing he came out of it unharmed, I don’t know the details of that day. And I certainly didn’t ask questions.

I scratch my jaw, measuring my words. “He’s never been very reliable.”

“That’s the understatement of the century.” She laughs bitterly.

“For what it’s worth, I’m sorry he hurt you.”

Her gaze hardens on me. “He didn’t just hurt me. He caused that avalanche, and it nearly killed my dad—they were working together that day. Afterwards, your brother just left—walked away without consequences and had a new job before my dad was out of the hospital—before the investigation was even over.”

Shit. That sounds about right. It’s the Canyon rule—fuck shit up and let everyone else deal with the consequences.

“Your dad?” I ask, swallowing down the dread creeping up my throat. This is so much worse than just a scorned ex. He almost cost someone their life.

“He was buried in the snow crush. He ended up with a complete spinal cord injury at L5.”

“Fuck,” I hiss. Everything my brother has done to me pales compared to this. Canyon’s actions hurt me more than once, but it was the lack of remorse that made me cut him off. From what Harlowe just said, that hasn’t changed. “I don’t make a habit of apologizing for my brother, because his actions are his own, but I’m truly sorry.”

“You really didn’t know about any of it?” She stares at the counter, her eyes unfocused.

“None. Not about the two of you, or his part in the avalanche.”

She clears her throat, her walls slamming down, and fuck, I think I’d rather have her mad than shut down. “You’ll let me know if anything comes back on the blood work?” she asks quietly.

“Of course.”

She bites her lips like there’s more she wants to say, but this time, when she reaches for the door, she doesn’t stop. Harlowe walks out of my exam room, Echo at her side, and I give her thespace to check out with Grace, as I duck into the back. Even from another state, the destruction my brother causes is unavoidable.

Or, not from another state, as I find out the next day when I walk into my parents’ house to find Canyon sitting on their couch, looking completely unbothered.

His long, light brown hair is pulled back in a bun and he wears his trademark crooked smile. The one that endears people to him and gets him out of so much shit. But I’m the only one in this house who seems to see my brother for what he is: irresponsible, callous, and uncaring.

My mom is absolutely beaming, looking thrilled with herself for pulling off the surprise of the century and completely blowing past my boundaries.

This is an ambush.

I suck on my cheek, holding back the anger that wants to escape. “What’s going on?”

I direct the question to my dad, who’s marginally more likely to give me a straight answer. Unlike my mom, he’s not completely oblivious to Canyon’s behavior over the years.

“Your brother is moving back to Timberline Peak. He and your mom thought it would be fun to surprise you.”

“And you didn’t think a heads-up would be nice?” I growl through clenched teeth.

My dad rubs the back of his neck. “It’s been a long time. I hoped things had cooled off.”

“Not long enough, Dad.” Part of the reason I moved home was to be closer to them, hoping to spend more time together. I knew that might mean running into my brother if he came fora visit, but this feels like a betrayal. There are things I haven’t shared with them about the rift between Canyon and me, but they know better than to pull this.

Part of me wants to turn around and walk right out the door. The other part doesn’t want to let him take this from me—not after everything else. And following my conversation with Harlowe yesterday, I’m more interested in hearing what he’s doing back. Why now?

“Are you going to come say hi, A.J.? Or are you just going to sit over there and seethe?” Canyon asks from his spot on the couch.

Even his fucking posture is casual, his leg kicked out and crossed at the ankle, his hands knit together behind his head. Like he’s the fucking king and we are just his lowly peasants.

“What are you doing here, Canyon? Aren’t you supposed to be in Montana?”

“Surprise! I’m moving back. Mom gets both her boys back in Timberline Peak for good. Isn’t that nice for her?”

Fuck, so he knows he’s got me raked over the coals. I can’t leave Timberline Peak, and he won’t—not if it means getting under my skin.

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