“What’s she doing here?” Jordan’s tone was the exact opposite from last week when he’d been alarmed that she’d quit.
“He stole my truck,” Marley stated.
Jordan frowned. Justin lifted a shoulder. Technically, he couldn’t argue that. “Let’s see the note.”
Jordan opened a drawer to his right, took out a piece of paper and stood to hand it to him. As Justin read it, Jordan walked over to a side cupboard. “Want one?”
“One what?” Justin asked as he studied the note. He looked up to see Jordan holding out a glass, half filled with amber-colored liquid.
“What the hell is that?” he asked. Then he glanced at his watch. “Crissakes, Jordan, it’s not even ten o’clock.”
Jordan downed the drink in one gulp, then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He poured another one and lifted it while pointing his index finger at Justin. “You have no idea what this could do to us all—to the family—to the company.”
“There’s no sense getting drunk over it. Nothing’s going to happen.” He cast a glance toward where Marley had plunked down in a chair with her arms crossed. Why hadn’t he just given her the damn keys?
“If this gets out, the bad publicity will destroy us,” Jordan continued. “We’ll lose the Jenkins project, the company will go bankrupt for sure, and we’ll lose everything.”
He downed his second shot and Justin felt a prick of alarm. He’d never seen his brother like this before. “In the grand scheme of things, it doesn’t matter, Jordan.”
“To you,” Jordan accused. “You still have your job back in Toronto. I actually quit mine, remember?”
When Jordan would’ve poured a third drink, Justin stood and grabbed the whiskey decanter from his hand. “Enough. There’s a lot we have to figure out and you being drunk won’t help anything.”
Jordan braced both hands against the counter. He hung his head. “I’m fine.”
“Good, because there’s one thing we need to get cleared up right now. Where were you last night?”
Justin felt Marley’s gaze as Jordan straightened. “I went home.”
“I mean before the hospital,” Justin clarified.
“I was at Club 9. You know that—you called me there.”
“I would assume you can get witnesses to confirm that?”
Marley shifted in her seat. “Justin—”
He silenced her with an upraised hand. She and Nate had made the accusation, she would listen to this.
“What the hell is this about?” Jordan glanced at Marley.
“Our brother Nate is under the impression that one of us pushed him last night,” Justin explained.
Jordan’s expression hardened. “Are you asking if I did it?”
“Give me some fricken credit, man,” Justin said. “It’s for her.”
Jordan directed his gaze back to Marley, and Justin watched her meet his brother’s look without flinching. She never backed down or made excuses, he’d give her that. But then he found himself making them for her.
“She doesn’t know you like I do. She thinks you don’t like Nate.”
“I don’t,” Jordan stated. “He’s going to screw up all our lives.”
“Jordan—”
Marley surged to her feet, surprising Jordan by getting right up in his face. “Don’t go blaming Nate for this. It’s not his fault your father screwed around.”
“And your mother’s a saint?” Jordan snapped.