Because he could’ve died in a frigid prison, if Trace and Noah hadn’t fought so hard for him. They’d been willing to die in order to save him. No, he’d never forget what they’d done.
His gaze slid back to the funeral.
Drake knew that, if he had to, he’d kill in order to protect Noah. Because he would not just stand back and watch his friend crash and burn.
***
The funeral was over.
Ethan Harrison tried not to smile as he stared at the grave. His father was gone.
Good f**king riddance.
The mourners kept looking at him. They were driving him insane. There were so many whispers and curious stares. He hunched his shoulders. Looked at the ground. And tried to act like this wasn’t one of the best moments of his life.
I’ll be getting away soon.
His brother tried to brush by him. Ethan grabbed Austin’s shoulder. “We need to talk.” He steered his brother to the relative privacy of a nearby mausoleum. The guards stayed close, about ten feet away, so Ethan dropped his voice when he said, “You haven’t come to see me, brother.”
He and Austin had the same eyes. Same green color. Same shape. And right then, Austin’s eyes were bright with fury. “Why the hell would I come and see you?”
“Because we’re family!” That should be plenty of reason. “You don’t lock family away and forget about them.”
“You do if the family is anything like you.” Austin glared at him, the disgust plain to see on his face. That was Austin all right. Always looking down his nose at him. Always acting like he was so much better than Ethan.
You’re not.
“Everything that happened is on you,” Austin snarled at him. “If you’d just left that girl alone—”
“Claire.”
Austin’s eyelids jerked. “You should have left her alone.”
Austin had always been the perfect one. The quarterback. The valedictorian. The every-fucking-thing. “You saw her first,” Ethan recalled.
“What?”
“In the diner, you saw her first.” He could remember this so well. “I wouldn’t have noticed Claire at all, if you hadn’t been staring at her so hard. Hell, you even said…‘I’m gonna ask her out.’ I just beat you to the punch.”
Austin’s jaw dropped in surprise, and he surged toward Ethan. “That’s why you hooked up with Claire Kramer? Because you thought I wanted her?”
Ethan just smiled at him. You did want her, brother. I saw it in your eyes.
Austin sucked in a deep breath. Then he smiled, too. And laughed. “You’re such an idiot, Ethan. I hope you enjoyed your afternoon of freedom, because it’s over. They’re waiting to take you back to jail.” His voice dropped to a low whisper. “And guess what happens when you get back? Your preferential treatment ends. No more being separated from the others. Welcome to general pop.”
Was that supposed to scare him?
“Dad’s gone. And I’m not as blind as he was. Everything will change for you now. You did the crime, and you’ll suffer for it.”
Ethan glanced away from Austin’s glittering eyes. “One thing I always wondered…” His stare lingered a moment on the casket. Rot, old man. Rot. “Did he hit you, too? Or did he just save that shit for me?”
Silence. Maybe that was his answer.
“Your big brother is supposed to protect you. How come you never helped me?” Ethan asked him. Then, because maybe he didn’t want to hear the miserable lie that Austin would spout, Ethan walked away from him.
The whispers were louder as he headed back to the patrol car. The black and white car was parked near the edge of the lot, close to a thick patch of trees. Those trees backed up to a little bayou. He’d taken Claire to that bayou once.
He’d taken her virginity there. They’d been in the back of his car then.
“Time to go,” one of the guards said as he stepped to Ethan’s side. Bo. Bo Dunnelly.
The other guy was Marcel Reed.
They’d been good enough, for cops.
Marcel opened one of the car’s back doors. Ethan knew the reporters close by had been waiting for this shot. The picture of him being loaded back up for jail.
The cops didn’t cuff him.
He’d counted on that.
So he waved to the crowd. He sucked in a deep breath of that free air. And he remembered Claire.
He slid into the car.
Marcel and Bo headed toward the front of the vehicle. They climbed inside.
“Damn, son,” Marcel said as he settled into the front seat of the car. “That was sure a lot of folks to see your dad off.”
Yes, it had been. “He always liked a good show.” The old bastard had cared so much about what everyone thought.
Too bad no one had realized what an abusive prick he was.
***
The show was over. Drake strode past the grave. He glanced toward the patrol car. Ethan Harrison had just been loaded up in there and—
The force of the explosion threw Drake back about five feet. He nearly landed right in that damn grave.
Drake jumped up as fast as he could, then stared with narrowed eyes at the sight before him.
The patrol car was a ball of flames. People were screaming, running, and Ethan Harrison…
He was burning.
The little cop ran toward the car. Damn foolish mistake. Amateur hour. He grabbed her, jerked her back and—
Another explosion sent the flames surging even higher.
“There are men in there!” The cop screamed. “Two officers, I saw them load Ethan in—”
And all he could see was fire now. “They’re dead.” Someone had wanted to take out Ethan Harrison and the cops had just become collateral damage.
The heat from the flames lanced over his skin.
***
When his phone rang, Noah thought about ignoring the call. He would have, if the ring hadn’t been the distinct tone that told him Drake Archer was on the other end of the line.
“Shouldn’t you be gambling some place?” Noah asked when he took the call. Drake owned a series of casinos along the Mississippi Coast, and Noah had thought that his friend would be getting right back to business.
Noah and Claire had just arrived at his house in the Hamptons. Claire was walking along the beach. He intended to join her there in the next sixty seconds.
“Can’t talk long,” Drake said, the words low. “I’ll tell you more later, but…Ethan Harrison is dead.”