Page 148 of Eight Years Gone
“I can do that. Thank you, Mr. Tennyson.”
“Sure thing.” He hung up, looking up to the ceiling, blowing out a long breath. “Why does this feel so familiar?”
Grace pulled a sweatshirt over her head. “He’s in trouble, Jagger.”
He got to his feet, heading toward the chest of drawers. How many times had they had the same conversation about Logan? “Yeah.”
She tugged the scrunchie from her hair, combing her fingers through all of the shiny blond. “They can’t get ahold of Jessica. We can’t just leave him there.”
He pulled on a pair of boxers. “We could.”
She frowned at him. “Jagger—”
“This is something you want to do—to get involved in? You want to head down this road again?”
“He’s my brother.”
“Technically, yes.”
She huffed out an irritated laugh. “Why are you acting like this?”
“Because the kid’s a punk. He basically told you to fuck off. I went to see him again on Monday to try to smooth things over—hence him knowing my phone number—and he was just as big of a dick.”
“We can’t just let him be there. We never left Logan—”
He stopped as he pulled on a pair of jeans. “Colton is not Logan.”
“I understand that.”
He held her gaze. “Do you?”
“Of course I do.”
“We’re most likely going to miss our trip. He’ll be our responsibility until we can track Jessica down.”
She stared at the floor, wrapping her arms around herself. “I know this isn’t fair. I understand what I’m asking of you. I want to go to Montana, too.”
And now he was the one being the dick. He walked to stand in front of her. “I’m sorry.” He captured her hands, kissing her knuckles when she said nothing. “Will you look at me?”
She met his gaze. “He’s my brother, Jagger. I can’t pretend he doesn’t exist the way my dad clearly did.”
He nodded. “I know. Let’s go pick him up.”
* * *
Grace walked into the small, no-frills police station with Jagger by her side, catching sight of Colton sitting next to one of the officers at a desk, sleeping with his face covered by his arms.
“Good morning,” the policewoman said, sitting at the front desk.
Grace smiled. “Good morning. I’m Grace Evans. We were called down here to pick up my brother, Colton Sawyer.”
“Colton Sawyer,” the officer called over her shoulder. “Rise and shine, buddy. Your sister’s here.”
Colton sat up, blinking his right eye. The one that wasn’t swollen shut.
Jagger exhaled a quiet sigh next to her. “I guess there’s no way to say he wasn’t fighting.”
The policewoman faced them again. “You’ll be taking Colton home with you?”