Luke finds Seth and Jace in the basement studio. The two of them deep in conversation, they glance up guiltily when he enters.
Seth raises his eyebrows, his expression concerned. “How’d she take it?”
“Like a warrior.” Luke lets out a bitter laugh. “Which is more than you can say about me.” Dread curdles his stomach as he meets the concerned eyes of his brother and best friend. He’s a fucking coward and they know it. “I didn’t tell her about Alabama.”
Jace blows out a heavy breath.
Seth rests his elbows on the knees of his jeans and presses the heels of his palms into his eyes. “Man, I am gonna kick your ass.”
“What do you want me to say? I know.” Luke groans. “She didn’t ask why she was in the crash and hell if it was the time to bring it up. I mean, how do I segue from the death of our son to ‘by the way, you thought I was cheatin’ on you and nearly had your bags packed’?”
He paces, dragging a hand through his hair. “I sure as shit don’t know what to tell her because I don’t even know what to tell myself. I can do everything but explain that goddamn picture.”
“Luke,” Jace admonishes softly. “I get it, but you ever think this is bound to piss her off?”
“She didn’t believe me the first time, why would she now?”
“She believed you.”
At that, Luke’s head snaps up.
Seth, his face tight, stares at Luke.
He frowns. “What’re you talkin’ about?”
Jace looks at Luke, then Seth. “You just told me, now I think it’s a mighty fine time for you to tell him.”
When seconds of silence pass, Luke grits his teeth. “Look, you got the same expressions you had when I found you in that hospital. You know somethin’. So talk.”
Jace slowly nods. “We do. We do know somethin’. But, Luke, we tell you, you gotta keep your fuckin’ cool.”
Seth’s smirking. “Good luck. It’s Sal we’re talkin’ about here.”
Jace groans but motions for Seth to talk. It’s about time too. Luke’s damn near ready to jump out of his skin.
The smile falls off Seth’s face as he looks Luke square in the eyes and says, “There’s something you oughta know about Mort.”
The heavy woodgrain door swings open and there stands Mort Stein. A cigar in his hand, the radio playing low in the background of his office. “Well,” he drawls, ushering the Brothers Kincaid inside his office, through the cloud of smoke wafting in the air. “To what do I owe this pleasant surprise? You boys want a drink?”
“No,” Luke bites out. “No, we don’t want a drink, Mort.”
“You havin’ doubts, son? Because let me dispel those right now.” Pressing the button on his desk phone, Mort calls up his assistant. “Barbara, send up a bottle of Jefferson’s Ocean.” He straightens up to face the group. “You’re back. And after tomorrow night the entire world’s gonna see it.”
Luke stares at the man who’s handled his career from the beginning. He doesn’t want to believe it. But if it’s true ...
The thought curls Luke’s fists.
“I need something from you, Mort,” Luke says. “I have questions.”
“I got answers, son. You just ask ’em.”
“Sal,” is all he can say.
“The little lady? What about her?” Settling into the cushy chair behind his desk, Mort ashes his cigar. “How’s she doing, by the way? She ready for the big night? She’s gonna look good standing next to you on that carpet, Luke. Just like old times.”
“Asshole.” An under-his-breath snarl from Seth, who’s leaning back against the door, arms crossed, tense as a whip.
Beside Luke, Jace’s face is drawn tight and wary. He’s ready to intervene should it come to blows. Because it could. Because Luke ain’t gonna dance around it. After getting an explanation from Seth, he’s getting clarity today. The bullshit stops now.