“I—I don’t exactly hate him,” he stammered.

“But he’s not good for me? Exactly who, dear brother, would you find good enough for me? How about Ziggy? Or Caveman? Or maybe Kaden?”

“Uh, Steele seems like a nice, quiet guy.”

I snorted. “Steele has demons. Trust me, I can tell. Regardless, I don’t need a babysitter. If I want to stay out all night, I’ll stay out all night.”

“I was worried about you,” he said contritely.

My irritation dissipated to be replaced by a gnawing in my stomach that had to be guilt. Jock was a worrier. He didn’t know where I was or why I didn’t come home. Out of common courtesy, I should’ve told him I was okay and wouldn’t be home last night. I’d been selfish.

“I’m sorry. I went on a date with Axel, and afterward we went to his place.”

“Didn’t your mother ever tell you not to sleep with a guy on the first date?” he joked, though half-serious.

“My mother didn’t tell me shit any more than yours did.”

“Probably to our advantage as I doubt the woman would’ve given good advice.”

We both had a laugh over that, even as sad as our mother’s lack of morals might be.

“In all seriousness, Gen, I know you think I’m controlling, but I am concerned about you. Axel is a hockey player, with emphasis on the word player.”

“I appreciate your concern. I can take care of myself.”

“Like you did with Weasel?”

His comment was a low blow, and he knew it, but he was also correct. I was worried myself about my inability to see through Weasel and how easily he’d manipulated me by gradually cutting me off from friends and family, eroding my self-confidence, and destroying my self-worth. The times he’d hit me, I’d taken him back after he’d apologized. All these things raised serious doubt about my abilities to judge whether a man was a good man or a devil in disguise.

Jock moved toward me and put an arm around me. He wasn’t a very demonstrative man, so the gesture meant a lot. “I’m sorry. I’m worried about you, but that was out of line. Axel’s no abuser.”

“How do you know? How do any of us know? I didn’t think Weasel was. You didn’t think your wife was emotionally abusive.”

Jock sighed and shrugged. He didn’t have any answers and neither did I.

“It’ll be a long time, if ever, before I lower my guard with anyone.”

“I know the feeling. I really do, Jock. I protected myself by not getting emotionally involved, but that’s a lonely life to live. Sometimes you have to take a chance, a leap of faith over that gaping ravine, and hope you land in one piece on the other side.”

“I’m not there yet.”

“I didn’t think I was either, but now I might be.”

“I’m not even divorced.” He backed away from me and raked his hands through his hair, staring over my shoulder at something unseen in the distance.