Shelby

“Get the fuck out of here,” Ezra blurts out, staring at me wide eyed from the opposite side of his small living room. “This is insane.”

He took my news about Rafe about as well as I expected him to. I stopped by on my lunch break between home visits, and I caught him on the phone with someone from work, but I could tell by his clipped tone and rushed goodbye that he’s hiding something from me.

Which I expect. Ezra is a trouble magnet. Being good is too boring for him, and while he’s been holding down this new business for a couple years now, I can tell he’s up to something. I just have to figure out what it is.

“Tell me about it,” I quip back over the salad I’m holding on my folded legs. I brought one for him too, but he hasn’t touched it. He’ll probably run through the drive through after I leave, but at least I tried. “I could not believe my eyes when I saw him standing in my hallway in the middle of the night.”

“How long has it been?” he asks.

“Ten years. Exactly.”

“Of course he’s a crooked cop now.” Ezra laughs.

“What makes you think he’s crooked?”

“Where do you think he ended up with a concussion? Which he obviously didn’t want medically treated. He probably beats up punks on the downlow or something.”

That sounds pretty unlikely. Rafe was always a little harsh, rough around the edges, but he was never cruel. Then again, it’s been a long time since I’ve seen him...so maybe he’s changed.

“You know...I had a feeling we’d run into him here on the island. I always figured he’d come back...but I never thought you’d be living next door to him.”

I choose to keep out the fact that I knew Rafe was at Wicked this whole time. I never wanted it to deter Ezra from moving out here to better himself. As far as I was concerned, it was water under the bridge. I knew my brother thought differently.

Talking to my brother is a delicate balance. He wants honesty, but he’s so volatile, easily offended. Never takes responsibility for his actions. It makes things...precarious.

His expression falls as he leans forward, leaning his elbows on his knees.

“You okay?” I ask.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbles, and I have to swallow down the emotion building in my throat. Ezra carries a lot of guilt where I’m concerned. Sorry I almost didn’t make it through nursing school because I was on my own. Sorry I was dragged into his trouble. Sorry my life has revolved around him. Now sorry I’m living next door to the person he hates more than anyone.

Who we hate more than anyone.

“Ezra…”

“I know I’ve put you through a lot, Shel. And it feels like everything that’s happened to us started with him, what he did to us.”

I don’t say anything. I’ve heard this before. How Ezra going to prison changed everything for us. How Rafe betrayed us.