Page 111 of Inferno
“I spoke to her on Sunday,” Sterling answered in a low voice. “She called to tell me that she’s in Minnesota with Grant, who’s working on some research project for the Mayo Clinic.”
Stan’s jaw hardened, but he said nothing.
Sterling’s keen gaze searched his face. “You already knew, didn’t you?”
Stan hesitated,thennodded reluctantly. “She called Prissy a few weeks ago. She wanted them to have dinner together while Prissy was in Rochester for her leadership conference.”
“Did they get together?”
“Yeah.”Stan grimaced. “I’m sorry, Sterl. I really wanted to tell you, but Prissy promised to let Celeste tell you herself when she was ready.”
Sterling nodded slowly. “Prissy did the right thing. It was better coming from Celeste. It was still painful and shocking to hear, but…well, she’s the mother of my children, and nothing will ever change that. So we have to keep the lines of communication open between us, no matter how difficult it may be.”
Stan nodded, conceding the truth of his brother’s words. “Did you work out an arrangement with her?”
“Yeah.She’s going to fly home every other weekend—on Grant’s dime—and stay at his penthouse so she can spend time with Michael and Marcus. My only stipulation was that she nottakethe boys over there under any circumstances. They’ve been traumatized enough, and God only knows what Marcus would do if he ever stepped foot inside his mother’s love nest.”
“Probably the same thingI’ddo,” Stan muttered darkly. “Set that motherfucker on fire.”
Sterling choked out a laugh, shooting him a reproachful look. “Now what kind of talk is that coming from Coronado’s Firefighter of the Year?”
Stan shook his head grimly. One word from his brother, and he’d have gladly wiped Grant Rutherford off the face of the earth.
“You’re a better man than me, Sterl. That’s all I have to say.”
“Yeah?”A small, humorless smile twisted Sterling’s mouth. “You think I haven’t fantasized about retaliating against Grant for taking my wife and hurting my boys? You think I’ve never found myself parked outside his apartment building—my Glock in one hand, my badge in the other—wrestling with the temptation to bust down his fucking door and pump him full of lead? I’m a cop, so you know there are a number of other ways I could do him real dirty. But what good would any of that do? And if I wind up in the state penitentiary, where would that leave Michael and Marcus? Abandoned by their motherandfather, that’s where. Then what would become of them? What kind of future would they have?”
Sterling shook his head, looking grim and resolute. “Sometimes being a man means swallowing your pride and walking away from the fight you lost long before you ever entered the ring. Grant Rutherford didn’t force himself on Celeste. She’d been unhappy with me for years, and she wanted something else. She made her choice, so I have to respect that and find a way to move on.”
When he’d finished speaking, Stan could only stare at him. He didn’t know whether to applaud Sterling for the dark, violent urges he’d confessed to having, or haul him roughly into his arms and assure him that everything would be okay. Either way, he’d never been prouder of his brother than he was at that moment—and that was saying a lot considering how much he’d always looked up to Sterl.
Observing his awestruck expression, Sterling chuckled and warned gruffly, “Now don’t you go getting all sentimental on me, boy.”
“As if,” Stan mumbled as he glanced away and swallowed hard, trying to clear the lump of emotion that was clogging his throat.
“Well,” Sterling drawled after a minute, lazily pushing to his feet. “Guess we’d better get to that poker game we promised the boys. Besides, my fingers and toes are starting to grow numb. It’s cold as hell out here.”
Stan grinned at him.“Wuss.”
Sterling jabbed one of those numb fingers at him. “Just for that, I’m gonna take great pleasure in totally annihilating you at poker.”
Stan laughed. “What else is new?”
When the two brothers reentered the house, Prissy and Georgina were curled up on the living room sofa while a cozy fire crackled in the hearth. They were holding mugs of hot chocolate and pealing with hysterical laughter.
“Uh-oh,” Stan intoned, trading amused glances with his brother. “Why do I feel like we just stepped into a sorority house?”
Sterling grinned, hanging up their coats in the mud room. “Well, considering that Prissy is a Delta and Georgie is an AKA, your observation isn’ttoofar off the mark.”
Overhearing their exchange, Prissy and Georgina wiped tears of mirth from their eyes and sighed.
“Don’t mind us,” Prissy told the approaching men. “We were just enjoying an old private joke.”
“Sounds intriguing,” Stan drawled. “Care to share?”
“No,” the two women blurted, then looked at each other and dissolved into fresh giggles that had Stan and Sterling shaking their heads and chuckling.
“Women and their secrets.”
