“Oh, are you guys close?”
Hannibal snorted.
“No. I haven’t seen them in over fifteen years. I’ll be happiest if I never see them again. How about you?”
Jade leaned forward and grabbed a glass of orange juice and took a sip. “I was really close to my mom. She died a while back from cancer.”
Hannibal ran a hand over her back. “I’m sorry. What about your dad? I never read anything about him.”
She shrugged. “He was a smooth talker who told my mom he was estranged from his wife. She believed him. The truth was, he would float between his wife and my mom. Whenever things would get hard with me and my mom, he’d take off. Go back to his wife. Whenever things got tough there, he’d leave her and come back to us. Somehow, he convinced my mom to take him back every time. He was the ultimate fair-weather man. When mom got sick the first time, it was too much for him. That was the last I ever saw of him.” She shrugged as if it didn’t matter, but Ink could tell how much it hurt her.
“He was an asshole who didn’t deserve you.” Hannibal’s anger was obvious, and Ink wondered if they would be hunting the missing man down.
“Maybe. He didn’t like things messy or complicated. And there’s nothing more complicated or messy than going through chemotherapy. What I never understood was why Mom kept taking him back. I mean, sure, I’ve got a couple of pleasant memories of him as a kid. But if I’m with someone, I want him to be with me good times or bad. Loyalty is something I need. That’s what made this thing with Eric so hard. He accused me of being like my dad. Like I was bailing out on him because things got hard.”
“I thought the two of you weren’t together?” Ink didn’t like the burst of jealousy that roiled under his skin.
“We were never lovers. But one of the reasons I cared about him so much, and put up with all of his immature bullshit, was because he had been there for me when Mom got sick. He was there for me when I got hurt. He had been a steady friend through all the hard times. But the last three years have been too much. I tried to help him. I tried to be there for him. But at some point, he just stopped giving a shit and was sucking me dry.”
“You don’t have to justify anything to us where that snake is concerned,” Ink said.
“I feel like I do. A couple months ago, I told him I couldn’t take it anymore. He blew it off at first, laughing. I guess now he finally understands. If he would wake up and take responsibility for his actions, I would be willing to give him another chance.” She snorted. “Guess I’m like my mom except I don’t have romantic feelings or a child with him.”
Ink rubbed her back, afraid to ask but needing to know. “Did everything go well yesterday?”
She shrugged. “As well as it could have. He signed the papers.” She shrugged again. “I tried to make him see why I was doing things this way, but he wasn’t receptive. I don’t know if I’ll ever see him again.”
Ink pushed her hair away from her face and tucked it behind her ear. “There’s being loyal to someone and then there’s being someone’s a victim. Sounds like he didn’t want a friend because you don’t steal from a friend or take advantage of a friend.”
“My head knows that, but it will take a while for the rest of me to catch up. Honestly, no matter how awful it sounds, what I’m really feeling is relief.”
Ink squeezed her knee. “I can’t imagine what you’re going through. If Hannibal turned on me I don’t know what I’d do.”
Hannibal laughed and shook his head.
“Yeah, I can’t see that. Can I ask you a personal question?” Jade smiled as a little of the darkness left her eyes.
“Of course,cher,” Hannibal said.
“I get where Ink got his nickname, but where does Hannibal come from? Are you secretly a serial killer?”
Ink burst out laughing at the shocked expression on his Brother’s face.
“If I was, that wouldn’t be a very smart question.”
She giggled. “No, seriously. I’ve always wondered.”
Ink also thought she was trying to distract herself from the topic of her old friend. He crossed his arms. “He’ll tell you it’s because to be with him is like riding an elephant across the alps. But I know the actual story.”
“Please tell me he doesn’t actually use that line.”
Hannibal grumbled and crossed his arms. “Only once, and he’s never let me live it down.”
“So what’s the real story?”
Ink smirked. “He was a sniper in the Rangers. Sometimes that means setting up on a perch in inconvenient places, for very long periods of time.”
“Okay.”