Couldn’t handle that shit much longer.
I wouldn’t allow myself to be pushed in a wheelchair, and I walked myself out in new clothes Jackson picked up for me. My hand was held tightly in Rome’s as we made it to the car, and Tom drove us home.
It was nice to be back at the house. It smelled like Rome and me combined together. My shoes were by the door exactly where I left them, and my hoodie was on the coatrack from the last time I went for a jog.
It felt so good to be back.
“Wanna take a seat?” Rome asked, the concern in her voice.
“I’m okay.” Actually, I did feel weak. This bullet wound would take some time to get better; that was obvious. I shouldn’t put up a front when I didn’t need to prove anything, but remaining strong for my woman was important.
Jackson walked in behind us and examined the house like he’d never been here before. “Looks the same as the last time I was here.”
“Yeah, I didn’t change much.”
Rome guided me to the couch and gently pushed on my shoulders so I would sit down. “I’m gonna cook some dinner. You must be sick of hospital food.”
“Yeah, I miss your cooking.”
She smiled before she turned to Jackson. “Make him realize, okay?”
“I’m on it.” He gave her a thumbs-up before she walked into the kitchen. “Got any scotch?”
“No drinking,” Rome called from the kitchen.
“What?” Jackson asked as he sat beside me. “What’s the point of being a hero and taking a bullet if you can’t drink?”
“It’s temporary.” I sat back and cringed slightly as my core felt strained.
Jackson watched me. “Need anything? A pillow or something?”
“I’m fine,” I answered.
Jackson grabbed the remote and turned on the TV. He found a basketball game and let it play in the background. My brother and I hadn’t talked much since I’d been shot. He’d visited me at the hospital, but we didn’t get much time together because Rome wanted to be at my side nearly all the time. “Glad you’re alright, man.”
“I know.”
“I’m sorry about Isabella. Never should have mentioned Hank.”
It was a stupid thing to do, and I had every right to be pissed at him. “You weren’t being malicious, so don’t worry about it.”
“I had no idea she would get that psycho.”
“Sometimes you never know…”
“I can handle Ruin while you recover.”
“You mean, run it into the ground?” I teased.
“No,” he said with a laugh. “I’ll do good this time.”
Rome came into the living room and handed us both glasses of water.
Jackson eyed the glass like he didn’t know what it was. “Please tell me this is vodka.”
She tapped him on the nose then walked back into the kitchen.
“She’s something, huh?” he asked before he took a drink of his water.
“Yeah…she’s pretty great.”
“What are you going to do about Hank?”
Hank was dead, and I’d confessed to the police that I was the one who shot him. They interviewed me at the hospital and conducted an investigation at my office. Rome had lots of evidence to prove that he’d been stalking her for some time, and Christopher corroborated her story. I wasn’t sure what was gonna happen with that, but I wasn’t worried about it. “I don’t know. He’s dead, and that’s all I care about.”
“Yeah, that guy is rotting in hell now.”
“I hope so.” I’d never forget what I saw when I walked through that door. His cock was pressed against her, and she was on the verge of tears. He should be grateful I gave him a quick death. If I’d had more time, I would have tortured him.
Jackson moved his hand to my shoulder and gave me a gentle pat. The affection was awkward since Jackson didn’t have a heart. “I love you, man. I know that’s a pussy thing to say, but I never say it. And…I was pretty scared I was gonna lose you. You’re my big brother…all I have left.”
I patted him on the shoulder in return. “I love you too, man. I’m gonna be around for a long time, so expect to be picked on for a few more decades.”
He chuckled. “I look forward to it.”
I turned back to the TV, feeling a new connection to Jackson that wasn’t there before. We spent a lot of time together because of Ruin, but we didn’t have serious conversations too often. We pretended to hardly even like each other. It was just one bullshit talk after the next. But now it seemed real.
“Have you seen Mom lately?” he asked.
I shook my head. “No. Not since that day we were all there together.”
Jackson sighed. “Too difficult?”
Rome and I were both disheartened when my mother showed no improvement. We both started to believe that there was no hope, that it was all just depressive torture. But I knew I couldn’t abandon my mother like that. “We’ll go back. We just needed a break. What about you?”