“Do you ever feel like you shouldn’t be as happy as you are?” I ask. “Like it’s not allowed because ...”
He stops and tugs at my hand until I face him. “You’re allowed to be excited about this showing, no matter where your brother is in the world and what he’s doing.”
I fix my gaze on the ground. “I just feel guilty that things seem to be going in the right direction for me, and his life ...”
“His life is where it’s at because of him.” Kane tips my chin up with two fingers. “You didn’t make those choices. He did.”
“But—”
Kane shakes his head. “Did he work his ass off to put himself through college?”
“No.”
“Did he bust ass to have a respectable job so he could feel good about himself?”
“No.”
“Did he pursue a passion that creates something beautiful for the world to see?”
This time I shake my head because the lump growing in my throat makes it hard to speak.
Kane speaks for me. “No. He didn’t. He chose his path, and you chose yours. You reap what you sow, Temperance. He might share your blood, but what he does with his life has always been up to him. You couldn’t stop him if you tried.”
“I know.”
“So don’t, for one second, let the situation he dragged us all into take away a single moment of your joy for living your dream.You did that.You deserve to enjoy it.”
Tears, which I should be out of at this point, blur my vision, and I blink them back as I meet Kane’s gaze and nod.
When I turn my head, I see it.
The perfect piece of metal.
“There it is,” Kane says, but he’s talking about the smile tugging at the corners of my lips.
I point behind him. “No, there it is.”
As Kane helps me pull out the headlight housing, the excitement that fills me isn’t only for the metal I’m using to build my sculpture, but for whatwe’rebuilding.
After I pay for the metal and arrange for delivery of the pallet to the warehouse, we turn to leave the scrap yard. Kane’s holding the headlight housing as we walk toward the Scout, and I spot a man running toward a dark SUV.
“What the hell?”
Kane’s gaze follows mine. “What the fuck is he doing?”
“I have no idea, but ...” I spot the broken side mirror on the Scout. “That motherfucker.”
Kane turns and takes off after him, but the guy is already diving into what looks like a black Tahoe and takes off, tires spinning and throwing gravel.
I rush to the Scout and the first thing I notice, other than the broken mirror, is the divots on the glass.
He tried to break the damn windows.But they’re bullet resistant and he wasn’t prepared for that.
Kane comes back, not even breathing hard after his sprint, and hands off the piece of metal we found to me.
“The dumbass didn’t cover his plate. We’re going to track this motherfucker down.”
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