“You will. You’ll find your way. I have to believe that. Remember Stitch. You’re my ohana.”
Family.
Where no one is left behind or forgotten.
His mouth twitches. “You’re quoting Disney movies again.”
Despite the tears, Natalya cracks a smile. “I’ll keep your sons safe.”
“You’re leaving us?”
James and Natalya jerk apart. Julian stands rigid in the doorway. How much did he hear? Enough, judging by the stew of emotions contorting his face: disbelief, anger, and rejection.
Betrayal.
His hands are fists at his side. His gaze cuts from Natalya to the suitcase on the bed and up to James. “I knew you’d leave us. I hate you. I want my old dad back.” He takes off. James hears the door slam to the rear yard.
A horn blares in the driveway. The cab is here. James shoves both hands through his shower-damp hair. He eyes the suitcase then starts to go after Julian.
“James.” Natalya blocks his way. “You’ll miss your flight. I’ll go talk with him and explain why you’re leaving. I’ll tell him you’re coming back.”
“He won’t believe you.” He yanks the suitcase off the bed and sets it upright on the floor. “He won’t believe I’m coming back until I do come back.”
“Then make sure you do.” She hands him a sealed envelope.
“What’s this?”
“A letter for you. From you.”
His skin tightens behind his neck. “From me?”
“You made me promise to give it to you should you find your way back to me.”
“You haven’t read it?”
“No, but you told me about it once. Since we both know there’s the slightest possibility you can forget again, maybe the letter will help you find your way back to us. Now go. Your cab is waiting.”
James touches her cheek, traces her jawline, then lets his arm fall. He leaves the room, leaving Natalya and his sons, and possibly his memories, behind.
James calls Julian upon landing in San Jose. The call goes to voice mail so he hangs up and sends a text: Call me.
He also sends one to Natalya. She immediately replies. James watches the three dots blink below his text as he exits the plane. He could kiss his phone when it comes through.
We’re at the St. Regis, swimming and having lunch with Dad and Claire.
How are the kids? he responds.
Marcus is great. Having fun chasing Dad in the pool. Julian isn’t talking to anyone, but he is here.
She attaches a photo of Julian on a lounge chair, headphones on, face in his phone’s screen. Which means Julian has seen his text. James checks. Sure enough, the message shows it’s been read.
Another text comes through.
I forgot to tell you I love you. I love you.
James stares at the message. Aimee regularly texted those words and he always replied in kind because he loved her beyond anything or anyone else in his life. She’d been his one and only. He cares for Natalya, but he still carries around Aimee’s engagement ring, for God’s sake.
With that thought, he feels the ring burn in his pocket, as though the platinum is molten hot, reminding him it’s still there. Aside from showering, running, and swimming, it hasn’t left his person in more than six months. He even had it on him when he spent last night with Natalya. What kind of man does that?
One who isn’t ready to forget his past, that’s for sure.
His thumbs hover over the keyboard and he finally texts back a message before sliding the phone into his pocket.
I’ll call you tonight.
James hires a cab. He doesn’t want to return to his parents’ house, but he has a couple of hours to kill before meeting Thomas and Phil at the restaurant. He lets himself into the stale house through the front door. He drops his suitcase and carry-on in the entryway and heads toward the kitchen for a glass of water.
He walks through the main room and movement in the corner of his eye snags his attention. “Jesus Christ.” James’s heart rockets into his throat.
Thomas lounges on the leather sofa swirling a lowball of whiskey on ice. James doesn’t have to smell it to know it’s Johnny Walker.
“I found an unopened bottle in the library. I think it’s leftover from Dad.”
Then it had been there for some time because their father died more than seven years ago.
“What the hell are you doing here?” And how did you get in? James had changed the damned locks.
Thomas takes a leisurely sip. “Have you remembered anything about that day in Mexico?”
Seriously? That’s what this is about? “Some.”
“Does it help me?”
“I doubt it.”
Thomas blows through his lips. “That’s unfortunate.”
James moves into the room, growing more uneasy by the second. “Fernando Ruiz is behind bars. My life is no longer in danger from his cartel, if it ever was. There isn’t anything further I can add to the DEA’s case because that case has been resolved. What difference does it make whether I remember or not?”
His chest expands on a deep inhale; then he speaks slowly, punctuating each word, his voice rising with each sentence. “I want to know what happened on that damn boat and the role Phil played. Because I want Phil’s ass back in prison. I want Mom to cut him off. I want him fucking out of our lives.”
A chill moves up James’s spine. “Where’s Phil?”
Thomas peers into his glass. He tilts it back and forth.
“Thomas. Where is Phil?”
James’s phone rings. He looks at the screen. Julian’s face flashes. His gaze snags in Thomas’s the same moment he answers the phone. The same moment Thomas says, “Kauai.” And at the same moment Phil greets him on the other end of the line.
“Jimbo, long time no chat.”
Present Day
June 30
God, we crossed paths midair.
James paces the back deck. He wants to hurl, he’s so disgusted with himself. The fear, it’s eating him alive. He hasn’t changed, as though six-plus years in a fugue state hadn’t taught him enough of a lesson. Once again, he got on a plane and chased Phil halfway across the globe, leaving his loved ones thousands of miles behind, unprotected.
After several phone calls that went straight to voice mail and even more unanswered texts, he finally gets in touch with Natalya. She’s home with the boys, thank God, not at the St. Regis where his Find My Phone app displays the location of Julian’s mobile.
“How did Phil get his phone?”
Through the phone, James hears her call for Julian. She gets back on some seconds later. “He says he left it in Claire’s room on accident. Your mother took him and Marcus up there to shower and change. We ate a late lunch at the hotel’s restaurant.”
But they’re home now. Thank God.
“Do you want me to go back and get it?”
“No,” he exclaimed, his heart racing. “Definitely not. Don’t go there tomorrow either. Come to think of it, lock your doors and windows. Promise you’ll stay there until you hear from me. Don’t let my mother come over either. Tell her you and the boys are busy all day. I don’t want her bringing Phil with her.”
“Why is he here, anyway? What does he want with you?”
“I don’t know.” James grips the back of his neck. “He’s been pretty determined to have a face-to-face since he learned I was still alive.”
“This doesn’t make sense. Why doesn’t he just call you? And how did he find out about you? You told me Thomas never told him. He didn’t want anyone to know so he could keep you safe in Mexico.”
“That’s what Thomas told me.”
“Do you believe him?”
It takes only one second for James to consider his answer. “Absolutely not.”
“Could your mother have told him?”
“She’s basically disowned him. They aren’t on speaking terms, as far as I know.”
“Well, they are now,” Natalya says, stating the obvious.
James sighs. “The only thing I can think of that he possibly wants is vengeance. Like me, he’s angry. We’ve both lost years because I was the idiot who walked into that bar after he warned me away.”