The Wayward Sister (The Wayward Sons 5)

Sierra

The bell rings over the diner doorway. I look up from my cup of mediocre coffee and see a familiar mop of dark hair. His hands are shoved in his pockets, and his eyes skim the room, the steel gray finally landing on me.

I give my brother a weak smile.

He offers me a matching one in return.

I don’t deny that I assess him as he walks over; checking out the way he’s grown in the last six months. He looks good—less tired and stressed. The pressures of court hearings and high school are behind him. I think he’s several inches taller—he’d passed me years before. I stand as he gets closer, my hands shaking nervously.

“Hey, baby brother,” I say, trying not to choke on the words.

His eyes glisten. “Hey, sis.”

I’m grateful when he pulls me into a hug. For so long, we only had one another. We were each other’s rocks, at least until I ran away.

I pull back and tug at the scruff on his chin. “It’s getting thick.”

He laughs and eases into the booth. “Yeah, I may shave it off this summer. Depends on how hot it gets.”

It’s idle chit-chat, the stuff people do when they’re avoiding big topics.

“How are the guys?” I ask as the waitress arrives with a steaming hot pot of coffee. He doesn’t answer until she’s gone.

“Just making the best of our last summer together. Jake leaves for training camp in a few weeks. George and Charlie are getting ready for school.”

“How angry are they with me.”

“Angry isn’t the right word. Hurt works. Maybe confused. We’re blood, but those guys…you made a promise.”

His eyes pin to the tattoo on my arm.

Family don’t end in blood.

He’s right. I swallow the guilt. “How’s Starle

e?”

His expression softens. “She’s really good.”

I press my fingers against the warmth of my cup and watch as he measures out sugar and cream for his. He takes a sip and grimaces. I laugh. “It’s not like Wayward Sun coffee, that’s for sure.”

He shakes his head. “No, not even close.”

We look at one another. I’m the one that called him. It’s time for me to tell him why.

“So listen, I’ve been staying at the house and taking an assessment of what needs to be repaired.”

“The HVAC for sure.”

“Right, yep, I got an estimate on that. There are some other things. Roofing issues, plumbing, and then obviously it needs a major cleanout.”

He swallows thickly. Neither of us really went back and cleaned out our stuff or our parents' things after the accident. We took what we needed and started over.

“What’s the end game to this?” he asks quietly.

“Right now, I just want to get it kind of settled, back to a functional place. From there, maybe sell it.”

His eyebrows shoot up. “You want to sell the house?”