Truth Be Told (Blackbridge Security 4)

“The front porch on the house is sagging a little.”

“She mentioned wanting to have it fixed, but she had to spend the money she’d saved on my grandmother’s medical bills.”

“So, doing those things for her would be helpful, you think?”

He glances down at his food before picking up his fork to continue his meal.

“I guess, but owing you would just cause more stress for her.”

“Not favors,” I remind him. “Things I should’ve done all along.”

“A new house in a ritzy neighborhood would probably relieve all of her stress,” he says with a small smile before shoveling chicken alfredo into his mouth.

I grin a little. “If I honestly thought she’d go for that, I’d offer it in a heartbeat.”

The smile fades away. “I hate it here. If Pop hadn’t died, things would be different.”

“I know,” I tell him, because despite that man’s hatred for me, he worked his ass off to provide for his family.

“What are things like in St. Louis?”

My heart races with the prospect that he could want to know because he’s interested in living there.

“Are the schools good?”

“I haven’t done much research on schools, but I imagine the ones where I live are good, mostly private academies.”

He nods, contemplative as another bite of food makes its way to his mouth.

“But it doesn’t matter. My life isn’t there any longer. Regardless of what you’ve convinced yourself, I’m not leaving. I’m not walking away from you.”

“That’s the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard.” The anger is back like the flipping of a switch. “Giving up all the good things makes no sense.”

I tilt my head in a that’s just how it is sometimes way.

“Maybe, but I doubt you can convince your mother to move across the country.”

“You’d want that? You want us to live with you?”

The first hint of hope in his voice makes me want to offer this kid the world. I mean it’s something I was planning to do eventually, but I thought it was a long way in the future.

I tread carefully. “Living with me isn’t something I’ll ever be able to convince your mother of doing, but I’d want you close.”

“But not together?” The hope disappears.

“My relationship with your mother is complicated.”

“Because you don’t love her?”

God, this kid knows how to hit me like a swift kick to the nuts. I’ve focused the last couple of weeks on my anger because seeing her again brought everything back—the memories, the feelings, the regret. I’ve let all of that remain clouded because a second chance with her is nearly impossible with the obstacles she put between us.

“Because adult relationships are more than a nice condo and a new car. There’s a lot of time, distance, and hard feelings between your mom and me for us to ever be a thing again.”

He nods like he understands, but there’s something in his eyes that makes me think he doesn’t believe a word I just said.

Chapter 14

Tinley

“You’ve got to stop giving him false hope,” I snap first thing at Ignacio when he takes a seat beside me in the bleachers.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He keeps his eyes on the field even though it’s devoid of players. The teams are in the dugout getting last minute instruction from the coaches before the game starts.

“He came home the other night wanting this brand-new life in St. Louis.”

“He hates it here,” he says, as if uprooting my entire life and moving to where he lives is as simple as packing a suitcase and climbing in his truck.

“Everyone hates it here,” I snap at him with the reminder. “It changes nothing.”

He chuckles. “Good to see you haven’t lost that fiery attitude, Tin.”

This man makes my blood boil, but if I’m being truthful with myself, it could have more to do with the intoxicating scent of his cologne than his laissez-faire attitude about what he thinks is best for my life after all this time.

He’s been sitting beside me less than two minutes, and I’ve already found myself leaning closer and breathing deeper.

“Don’t call me Tin,” I hiss, giving the woman in front of me a weak smile when she turns around, looking in our direction and being nosy.

I don’t have to worry long about her thinking ill of me because her attention stays on Ignacio when she notices him. He nods in her direction before refocusing on the field.

“He told me he hasn’t been in trouble the last two weeks,” he says, once again ignoring my shitty attitude. I can’t help but take it as his way of saying Alex is acting better because he’s such a goddamn positive influence, but I don’t complain. I’ll take all the help I can get at this point.

“He’s been doing better. No calls from the school.” And it’s been a true blessing.

Mom hasn’t been feeling well the last couple of days. It was hard to leave her to attend the game, but she insisted that Alex needed me to be present more than she needed me hovering over her while she took a nap.