“They need their sons. Both of us. I’ve been trying to run the bar and my construction business at the same time, and I just can’t do it anymore. They’re both suffering. It’s time for you to step up.”

A vise tightened around my rib cage. “I can’t.”

Hunter was silent for a few moments. “If you don’t come home, we’re going to have to sell.”

His words seemed to slice at my chest. I hadn’t seen the bar in what felt like forever, but somehow, the idea of losing it, letting go of something else that felt like it was a part of me, was more than I could take. “Okay.”

“Okay?” There was shock in my brother’s voice. Maybe he’d expected me to tell them to sell, but I couldn’t. Because he was right. The Catch was our family’s legacy. I wasn’t going to let them down because I couldn’t deal with the ghosts of my past.

“Yeah, okay. I need a couple of days to close up shop here and get a manager in place at my LA bars. But I’ll be there soon.”

Hunter cleared his throat. “Thanks, man.”

The words seemed to be dragged out of him. And didn’t that make me feel like an asshole? When had things gotten so strained with my brother that thanking me was akin to pulling teeth? “Thank you for all you’ve been doing. I’m sorry I haven’t been pulling my weight.”

“You covered all the medical bills, that helped a lot.”

I heard the unspoken words, “but you haven’t been here.” God, I was a selfish prick. Sure, I’d spent a month in Seattle with my parents when my dad was in the hospital and then a rehab clinic, but as soon as they’d returned to the island, I’d run straight back to LA like the coward I was. I couldn’t pull that this time. I’d just have to hope that I could get the bar back on its feet quickly.

“I won’t leave the hands-on stuff to you anymore, Hunt.” I’d get the pieces we needed in place before I came back to LA so there wasn’t such a heavy load on my brother’s shoulders.

“It’d be a nice change,” he grumbled.

Shit. I had a lot to make up for with my brother. “I’ll see you in a few days.”

“In a few days.”

Hunter hung up without a goodbye, and I let my phone clatter to my desk. A few days. Seventy-two hours to wrap up my life in LA. Four thousand, three hundred, and twenty minutes before I had to face a daily reminder of the cruelest truth. I’d killed the one person I should’ve protected above all others.

3

BELL

“Bell, you here?”