“Maybe a little of both.” She crooked a finger at him, drawing him closer. “But I can guarantee he’s never coming back.”
“I assumed as much.” He shrugged one shoulder as if he didn’t care one way or the other. “Dead?”
She glanced around the room. Satisfied no one was paying them any attention, she turned back to Bruiser. “I might know more, but you want the info, you gotta pay.”
Bruiser tried to smile, but his face hurt. He suspected the expression stuck on his face was somewhere between a grimace and a maniacal grin. “The answers don’t really matter to me.”
She raised both eyebrows. “I close about midnight. What are you doing later?” She ran a finger across his lips, down his chin, throat, and to the collar of his shirt. “One night with you could have me telling all my secrets.”
The Bruiser of even a week ago would’ve met her later without a second thought. It was just sex, and Bruiser loved sex as much as the next man. But a night with Mac had fucked up his self-centered priorities and left him unsure of his direction. He needed time to contemplate his next move and determine how far he was willing to go for answers that might give Mac and her dad some closure.
He slapped his forehead in mock dismay. “Oh, crap. I forgot. I need to help my sister with something tonight. How about a rain check?”
“I’m here every night this week.”
His acting skills were getting pretty good. “Great, I’ll be back.” Before he could screw things up, Bruiser paid and hustled out of there.
Instead of heading home—the smart thing to do—he headed for Mac’s house.
Fifteen minutes later, he broke the remaining promises he’d made to himself since his divorce and rapped on Mac’s door.
* * * * *
Mac woke from a sound sleep to someone pounding on her front door. She sprang up from the bed, heart in her throat, not even bothering with a bathrobe over her nightshirt. Middle-of-the-night news was never good.
She ran for the door, stubbing her toe on the coffee table in the process and hopping the rest of the way on one foot. Throwing open the door, she fully expected her father in some state of insanity, but the muscular blond man standing on her porch was definitely not her father.
“Bruiser?”
One corner of his mouth tipped up, and he cocked his head sideways. “Were you expecting someone else? You’re killing my ego, darlin’.” He clutched his hands to his chest, and Mac laughed in spite of herself.
“Uh, no, I just wasn’t expecting you.” Her heart did a cartwheel up and down her spine.
“Can I come in?” Bruiser smiled again, not so cocky this time. His apparent uncertainty was winning her over, sucker that she was.
“Uh, I don’t think this is a good idea.” She knew how this would end if she let him in the door.
“I just spent the last hour at the bar where Trudy works.”
“You did? Did she say anything?”
“Let me in. I don’t want to talk about it out here.” He glanced around as if expecting paparazzi hiding in the bushes.
Mac let him in and bolted the door. Bruiser sat on the couch and she sat next to him, too anxious about possible news to worry about them sitting too close.
“What did she say?”
Bruiser took her hands and squeezed them. “Mac, I— Are you sure you want to hear this?”
“Are you kidding? I’ve been waiting three years to hear this.” Mac leaned forward, gripping his hands like a lifeline.
Bruiser heaved a deep sigh. “I asked her what happened to your brother. She said you’ll never find him.”
Even though she’d suspected as much, had prepared herself for bad news for the past three years, hearing the actual words relayed from someone with probable insider knowledge made her stomach drop to the basement of her house. “Did she say how she knew that?”
“I asked if she knew something or if she was speculating. She said a little of both.”
“That’s the most we’ve ever gotten out of her.” Mac stared at their hands with fingers intertwined together.
“Are you okay?” The genuine concern in his voice almost undid her.
Mac nodded, not trusting her voice.
“I can get more information depending on how far I’m willing to go.”
Mac frowned and held his hands tighter. “It’s not worth it. Don’t compromise yourself.”
“Not worth it to finally find out what really happened to Will? Not worth it to make Sonja pay? Not worth it to set you free of your guilt and give you back your life and your father his peace of mind?”
Mac considered his words for a moment, and her answer surprised her. “To me, it’s not. I can’t ask you to compromise your integrity.”
He looked shocked, then pleased. “You think I have integrity?”
“I know you do. You don’t fool me one bit, Bruce Mackey.”
“Look, I know what it’s like to lose someone. You can’t change what happened, but I can’t imagine not knowing. That would make me crazy.”
“How do you know what it’s like?” Mac searched his blue-gray eyes for answers but only found that glimmer of pain. “Who did you lose, Bruiser? Your brother?”
He set his jaw, and his eyes froze over like a granite lake. “That subject is off-limits.”
Mac nodded, feeling crappy that he didn’t trust her enough to share his pain. Pulling her hands from his, she rose and walked to the French doors and stared into the night across the wide expanse of lawn.
Sonja and Ben were sitting down by the lake on the beach around their fire pit, laughing and drinking beer with friends, Will’s old friends. Her throat constricted, making breathing difficult. If she let it, the bitterness and anger would eat her alive.
Bruiser walked up behind her and put his arms around her waist. He nibbled on her neck. “I want to do it.”
“No. Definitely, no.” She fought to keep the desperation out of her voice. She looked over her shoulder at his face.
“Why not?” A
