The muted sound of someone speaking elsewhere in the house reached her ears. He was here, all right. On the phone. Probably talking to Virgil. Although her brother hadn’t picked up, they’d tried to call him last night.
Following Rex’s voice, she located him in her basement. He’d left the living room so he wouldn’t wake her. But she needed to get up. They had some decisions to make before her children came home.
“What’s going on?” she asked.
His green eyes shifted toward her. Those eyes could be so vulnerable, so innocent despite all he’d been and done. But they were simply matter-of-fact now. “I’m sure…?. Yeah, your sister’s here…?. I’ll tell her…?. Got it…?. Right. Bye.”
“My brother didn’t want to talk to me?” She sat in her work chair but swiveled to face him.
“He said he’d catch you later. He’s got stuff to do.”
“Like…”
“Researching what’s happening inside The Crew.” Slouching on the small secondhand couch she’d placed in the corner, along with some toys and a TV for when her children joined her down here, he rubbed his bloodshot eyes. Had he slept at all last night? Didn’t look like it. Didn’t look like he’d slept in days. But he’d always lived on the edge, as if he could outdistance the ghosts that chased him merely by running his ass ragged. Vivian felt certain that the past few years would’ve killed a lesser man. She was afraid his choices would take him yet. The past week hadn’t been easy on him; she could see it in his rawboned, hollow-eyed face.
“You’re using again,” she said.
He regarded her from beneath half-lowered lids but didn’t respond.
“You have to stop. You know that. You have to pull your shit together, or…or you’re going to die, Rex. You’ll get in a shoot-out in some bar, or screw the wrong man’s woman, or go back to prison. Or overdose.” Her voice went low on those last two words because an overdose was what she feared most. She guessed there were times when he considered death a better alternative to living. That had to be the case, or he wouldn’t have spent so much of the past few years trying to destroy himself.
“I’m not using. But that’s beside the point.” Lying back, he slung an arm over his face. “You lost the right to bitch at me when you blew up our relationship.”
If it wasn’t drugs, it had to be alcohol. He claimed they hadn’t been able to reach him since he left for L.A. because he’d lost his phone charger, but if he’d been sober, he would’ve remedied that problem. “I blew up our relationship?”
“That’s right.”
“You broke up with me just as many times as I broke up with you.”
“But you knew I loved you.”
“I loved you, too. You—” Biting back the rest, she counted to ten before continuing. “I don’t want to argue about who’s to blame for what anymore. You have to come to terms with what happened to Jack or you’ll never have any peace.” Vivian couldn’t believe she’d just said that. Jack was such a taboo subject. His ghost had stood between them all along, because it stood between Rex and happiness. But maybe the time had come to speak the truth, no matter how painful.
He raised his arm so he could see her, his eyes taking on that glittery look she’d seen only when he was at his angriest. “Don’t start on Jack.”
“Pretty Boy, look—”
“Don’t call me that,” he said with a grimace.
He couldn’t identify with his old gang persona, or his new legitimate persona, either. He was lost in between, which was almost worse than being in prison. At least then he’d had some structure in his life.
She took a deep breath. “Fine. Rex. But someone has to get through to you. Your little brother—what…what happened to him—is at the root of all your problems.”
“Stop with the psychoanalysis. Prison’s enough to screw up anyone’s life.”
Virgil had gone to prison, too, but he’d been able to recover. Pretty Boy could’ve made good, if not for what was eating him up inside. He had a brother who was a doctor, another who was a chemical engineer. It wasn’t as if he came from a poor or underprivileged home. He would’ve ended up with an education and a good job if not for that one afternoon at the river, cliff diving with his youngest brother. “You didn’t mean for him to get hurt.”
“I challenged him!” The veins in his neck stood out as he shouted. “I told him I’d made that jump.”
She refused to allow her voice to rise with his. “You were just a kid.”
“So was he! Barely twelve years old. I knew he thought I could walk on water, that he’d believe me. I just…” Tears filled his eyes as he fell back. “I never dreamed he’d do it, and I never dreamed it would really hurt him even if he did.”
“Exactly. It was one of those freak accidents that happen sometimes. You screwed up, but you didn’t mean for him to die. Had he landed differently, he would’ve been fine. You have to let it go. You’re out of prison now, yet you’re throwing away any chance you have.”
Except for the anguish reflected in his eyes, he seemed to grapple with his emotions, finally gaining control. “Give it a rest, will you?”
She didn’t want to give it a rest. She wanted to rant and rave and stomp her feet just to relieve the tension. “I’m worried about you!”
“After what I told you last night, you should be worried about yourself.”
She hadn’t forgotten. He’d come to Montana because he’d heard she was in danger. He claimed he’d run into an old friend at a party in L.A., someone loosely affiliated with The Crew, who’d confided that Horse had been bragging to everyone who’d listen that he was about to get even with Virgil and his sister.
But Rex couldn’t tell her any more than that. And she suspected at least part of the reason he’d come was that he was hoping for some peace where she was concerned. Hadn’t she been hoping for the same thing?
“So…are you going to start packing?” he asked.
Did he expect a different answer than the one she’d given him last night? “No.”
“You’re joking, right?” He sat up. “I came all this way to warn you, to convince you, to help you get out of here before it’s too late.”