Pull You In (Rivers Brothers Book 3), стр. 47
She left behind five children. The boys: Kingston, Nixon, Atlas, and Rush. And their little sister Scotti.
And a lot of bitterness about the whole situation. Most of it was directed—understandably—at the company that wouldn't give her medical coverage, that decided she was better off replaced than alive.
In that situation, especially most of them being as young as they had been at the time, I understood how impulsive ideas came to them.
But it hadn't just been bitter words shared during a period of grief for them. It was a plan. A plot for revenge. That they actively worked toward in and out of different cities and states, stealing back what the company owed their mother.
It was hard to accept as reality.
But nothing about Rush as he spoke suggested he was yanking my chain, that he was trying to get a rise out of me.
When he spoke of his mother, there was pain in his eyes. Even when he talked about their work—for lack of a better term—the years following, there were traces of anger over the situation.
"It was wrong," he concluded. "But it wasn't at the same time," he said, shrugging. "I know that is a lot to take in," he said, leaning back against the tufted booth back, taking a slow, deep breath. "If you want me to take you home, let me know."
"I... I'm processing," I told him. "So, you were in Navesink Bank doing a, you know, job?"
"Yes."
"And that was when Scotti met Fiona's brother-in-law?"
"Yeah. Mark Mallick. That's when the plan changed."
"Fiona knows about all your... pasts?"
"Yeah."
"And Mark and Scotti..."
At that, he let out a hissing breath. "This might not be my place. But the Mallicks haven't exactly been on the up-and-up with the law either," he told me, hedging, and I understood why. That was privileged information, something the Mallicks likely didn't want shared around all willy nilly. "So, they didn't judge. They just took us in."
"And you went to work at Fee's place."
"Yes."
"And Kingston opened a private security agency," I said, feeling my lips curve up.
"The irony, right?" he asked, shaking his head. "Nixon and Atlas work for him occasionally too, but Nixon is off with Reagan and her whiskey business, which suits him a little better. He's such a dick. Clients hated him," Rush admitted, smiling fondly at some private memories.
"You didn't want to go into anything with, you know, cars?" I asked.
"I never had any interest in selling them or fixing them. Just driving them. And there's not a lot of jobs for that. So I just enjoy a good drive now and again. Helps clear the head. I'm planning a big road trip next summer, though, take off in a car and see the world. As much traveling as I have done, there was never much time for sightseeing."
"A road trip sounds like the perfect way to travel," I agreed. "You don't have to be packed into crowded trains or planes or buses or boats with a ton of other people. It sounds peaceful."
"Katie..."
"Yeah?" I asked, looking up, seeing a raw vulnerability in his gaze that made me want to reach out toward him, but he had his arms off the table.
"It's okay if you're not okay with it."
"Our pasts don't define us, right?" I asked, shrugging. "I mean... I used to be a huge Twilight fan. Like... I went to the midnight release parties at the bookstores," I admitted, cringing at the memory.
"Baby, I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to judge the fuck out of you for that," he teased, beaming at me, the light in his eyes chasing away the uncertainty I didn't like seeing there.
"No fair," I said, shooting him small eyes as our server came back, placing our plates in front of us, cutting off the line of conversation for a moment.
"Really, though, Katie. It's okay," he said, tone earnest as he watched me with understanding eyes.
"Do you plan on falling back into your old, erhm, career?" I asked, grabbing my fork.
"No."
"Then it's all in the past. This is, you know, the present," I told him, twirling my Alfredo noodles onto the tines of my fork.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah," I agreed, nodding. "I get why you did it too. I mean, I don't know what I would do if that happened to my mom. That's unfathomable to me. I don't think I'd ever have the nerve to get revenge, but I would want it. So I get it. And that's not who you are now. You work in private security. That's a respectable profession," I said, giving him a smile. "Maybe even more respectable than mine," I added, laughing. "I tell people that I am a receptionist at a call center. No one ever asks a follow-up question to that."
"What would you say to your mom?"
"My mom already knows where I work," I told him.
"No, baby, about me," he clarified. "About my past," he added. "I am seeing this going somewhere right now. And I know you and your mom are tight."
"We are," I agreed. "But there's a time and a place, I guess. I didn't tell her about tonight," I added.
"Why not?"
"Because I didn't want to overthink it. And I know if I started telling people, I would do that. I'm going to tell her tomorrow. She likes you. She's a little mad that I said you couldn't come to brunch."
"Well, now you can ease her mind and tell her I will be there bright and early with an empty stomach the next time. I've been craving those crêpes," he admitted.
"She'll be thrilled," I told him, silently adding that I would be too.
I won't lie and say that his past wasn't a shock, that I didn't have mixed feelings about it. But I believed what I said. What was in the past, was in the past. Someone's history didn't define them