Total pages in book: 82
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 79036 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 395(@200wpm)___ 316(@250wpm)___ 263(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry, but—”
The door opens behind me, cutting off his words. I turn around to see Rhett walking in with…
“What the fuck is he doing here?” I bite out, pointing at Dad.
“Morgan, calm down,” Dusty pleads.
“I’m here…to see…my son,” Dad says, in that new, slower way of his, walking around me.
Rhett’s voice is low when he says, “Calm the fuck down before you get yourself into trouble too. I was at Dad’s. He wasn’t feeling well, and I didn’t know he was up wandering the house when I tried to leave. He insisted on coming.” Rhett straightens his suit jacket, and why is he wearing a suit at three in the morning? “If you can’t keep yourself under control, you need to leave. The rest of us have done this before.” He adds the last part just to be a dick.
“Rhett…” Dusty warns, threading his fingers through mine, and while my whole body is overheated, I can’t even be mad at Rhett for that. The fact is, he’s telling the truth.
They were here.
I wasn’t.
“I’m Rhett Swift,” my brother says to the officer. “This is our father, Gregory Swift—former Michigan congressman and mayor of Birchbark. I’m Easton’s lawyer, and I’d like to know the charges against my client.”
The officer sighs, and I know he’s going to tell them, if only because of who both Rhett and my dad are.
“Assault. He lost his cool on another man at a bar. Attacked him. There are witnesses.”
Fuck. Goddamn it, East.
“I’d like to see him, please,” Rhett says.
The officer nods, then looks at me and Dusty. “Not them.”
My heart drops to my feet, skin suddenly clammy as guilt makes my dinner want to come up.
“Listen,” Rhett says. “I’m asking you for a favor here…my father is as well. He’s worked hard for the state of Michigan, and specifically Birchbark County, for over thirty years. Morgan is our brother, and Dusty is his partner. I would appreciate it if you could do this favor for me.”
My gaze snaps to the back of Rhett’s head. He doesn’t turn and acknowledge me, doesn’t boast, just keeps looking at the officer, something silent passing between them.
“Just this once,” the officer says, and I breathe out a sigh of relief. “This way.”
Rhett didn’t have to do that for me. Hell, there were times he would have walked back there without me and then bragged about it afterward. That’s the kind of relationship we’ve always had, yet tonight, that’s not what he did. And I also know that if he wasn’t who he is, and Dad too, this wouldn’t be happening.
The officer leads us to one of those small interrogation rooms like in the movies. He leaves us inside while he goes to get Easton. I let go of Dusty’s hand and walk closer to Rhett. “I…thank you,” I say, voice low and insecure.
“It was nothing,” he replies without looking my way.
“Should let him rot,” Dad interrupts. “Would too…if it didn’t bring shame…on the Swift name.”
My shoulders tense. That’s what he cares about right now? The Swift name? East is clearly hurting and needs his family, and all my father cares about is what people think. I don’t know why I’m surprised. I guess I’m not, really. I’ll just never understand him, want to do everything in my power not to be like him. My gaze finds Rhett, who is looking at our dad with a tight jaw. Maybe one way to make sure I’m never like our dad is to fix things with Rhett.
Before I can figure out what to say, the door opens, the officer bringing a handcuffed Easton inside.
“Jesus Christ. Has he seen a doctor?” jumps from my mouth as I go to him.
“He refused,” the officer replies. “If they are competent and conscious, they have that right.”
Easton’s right eye is swollen shut. There’s a cut above it, with dried blood around it. His lip is swollen too, blood on his shirt. When the officer seats him, East’s hands rest on the table, bruised and battered from hitting. His right hand is swollen as well.
“I don’t give a fuck if he refused or not. He’s seeing a doctor,” I spit out.
“Yes. He is.” Rhett’s voice is firm. The officer ignores me, gives my brother a nod, and slips from the room.
“Fuck you, Morgan. I asked for your help with Pretty Girl, not this.” East’s hard stare shoots to our father. I completely understand not wanting him here.
“I called Rhett. I didn’t know he was at Dad’s.” I walk over and kneel in front of him, trying to reach for his face, but he jerks his head away. “Christ, East. What happened?”
“Are you going to see my dog tomorrow?”
I sigh. “Yes. And if we can’t make it, Cass will. We’ll take care of her. I promise. Right now I’m more worried about you.”