Page 46 of Her Property

Jake had a vision of James, leaning into the car window.

Maybe I’ll see you.

Jake hadn’t even looked at him. He’d gripped the steering wheel and wanted nothing more than to drive away so fast the tires squealed. He wanted to show James just how pissed off he was at him. He didn’t even know why he’d been so angry. All he knew was the last time he’d seen his brother he’d treated him like shit.

You’re not a good person.

Cat was still talking and looking back at the photos on the wall. “…I think if you knew him—despite the fact that he’s been nothing but an ass to you—you might think he’s okay too.”

She looked at him now and her face softened when she saw whatever he was showing of the turmoil inside of him on his face. He caught a glimpse of the woman he’d spent the day making love to. The soft side of her. The side that made him feel like his own chest could soften, like something could release and be free. Finally.

But he didn’t deserve that either.

He understood the truth now, the one he’d known deep down all along. He wasn’t a good person. He couldn’t be. If he was, James wouldn’t be dead. Maybe his mother never would have left when they were kids. He’d been so angry at her—why would she ever want to come back to that?

“Why did your grandfather shut the camp down?” Cat asked.

Jake pulled himself out of the darkness he felt himself slipping into. He was torn between never wanting to speak about him or his past ever again and wanting desperately to keep this last night with her going.

That part won.

“He shut it down when my mom left us with them. Said he didn’t want to always be away paying attention to other kids and not paying any attention to the ones he had at home.”

He remembered then, what Gramps had said in the hospital, the day before they’d called to say he was gone. “It didn’t work,” he’d said, tears glistening in his eyes. “We still lost our James, just like we lost your mother.”

Jake swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat. He had told Gran what Gramps had said after his funeral, when they were sitting right here in this very kitchen, Gran holding a cup of tea that had gone cold. “Your grandfather died of a broken heart. Just like everyone else in this cursed family.”

He’d never heard Gran talk that way. When he’d asked her what she’d meant the next day she’d just shaken her head, told him to go live his life, squeeze every last drop out of it. And remember to come back to visit.

His business had been at its peak then, five years ago. He’d gone to the airport that night, finding the flight leaving the soonest that was going the farthest way away. He ended up going to Chiang Mai, Thailand, where he’d stayed for two months. He’d lost a ton of clients that season. Got half of them back. He traveled around the world for the next five years. He’d left Gran behind. Maybe what was happening to her was his fault too.

“Jake,” Cat said, her voice softening. She leaned over and took his hand.

But Jake couldn’t return the squeeze she gave his fingers. The soft version of Cat had come back, and he couldn’t even be there for it. His head was swimming with pain at all the people he’d let down. All the people who he couldn’t apologize to for hurting.

Jake’s looked at his hands on the table, her hand over his. He didn’t deserve her affection. He pulled away, lowering his hands into his lap. When he looked down, he realized his shirt was still unbuttoned. What a ridiculous thing to have forgotten. He began doing up the buttons. Focusing all his attention on each hard round piece of plastic.

“Jake?” Cat asked. “Who was Stella?”

He jerked his head up.

Stella.He hadn’t heard her name uttered in years. He only knew her as Mom.

“My mother,” he said.

Cat had been leaning forward when she’d taken his hand, but now she sat back, her expression unreadable. “I see.”

Jake had the feeling she wasn’t telling her something. Something important.

“What?” he said.

Cat reached out and took a sip from a glass of water he’d poured for her that had gone forgotten during the course of the meal.

“Your mother had some… problems, right?”

“You could say that.”

The lump had come back in full force and he picked up his wine, downing the last of it to force the thing down. The hell if he was going to shed a tear about his mother. And especially not now, not in front of Cat.

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