“In part.”A huge fucking part.“When I got out, I wasn’t in the best of shape. Mentally, I mean,” he admitted. “And Jax, well…Jax gave me a place to stay and a steady paycheck. It was only supposed to be temporary.” Just until he got back on his feet. “Before I knew it, a couple years had gone by, and the P.I. gig was taking off.”
Turned out, he and his former teammate made one hell of a team. When Jax officially formed Monroe Investigations, he’d offered Ivan a job as his technical analyst. Only it wasn’t simply a job.
It was roots. Security. And a lifeline that, at the time, even Ivan hadn’t realized he’d needed.
“If you don’t mind me asking,” Cera broke the silence a few seconds later. “What happened to your sister?” Then, before he could even respond, she shook her head and waved the question away. “Sorry. I shouldn’t have—”
“No, it’s okay.” The truth in that claim surprised him as much as the natural ease he felt when talking to her. “It was while I was on my last op with Teams. The whole mission had gone to shit. We lost two of our brothers, and when we got back to the States, my lieutenant called me into his office.”
He blinked against the same damn tears that pricked his eyes every time he thought about that time in his life. And apart from his ex—because, well, they’d been married—he’d never told any woman about Nina. Never wanted to share that part of himself withanyone.
Until her.
“My lieutenant, he uh…he had the unit’s chaplain in there with him, so I knew it was bad news. I just never thought…” Ivan’s throat thickened with emotion. “They informed me that Nina had been killed while the team was away.”
Reaching across the table, Cera covered his balled up fist with one of her delicate hands. Giving him a squeeze, she offered a soft, “I’m so sorry.”
“Thanks.” Another clearing of his damn throat. “Anyway, her death was ruled an accident, but it wasn’t.”
“What do you mean?”
“Nina’s boyfriend was an abusive prick who preyed on those he saw as weak. My sister wasn’t weak, but she was impressionable.” Weren’t most eighteen-year-old girls? “I tried to warn her. The whole family did, but…”
“She wouldn’t listen.”
“Nope.” He stared back at her. “She didn’t.”
“You know that’s not your fault, right?” Another squeeze, and then she slid that hand away. “I speak from experience when I say most teenage girls runtowardthe boys their families don’t like. Not away from them.”
A small hitch of a smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. “You’re right. They don’t.”
Didn’t make him feel any less guilt, though.
Momentarily lost in their thoughts, a long stretch of silence rolled past before Cera’s sweet voice broke through once more. “You said the cops think your sister’s death was accidental. What makes you so sure she was murdered?”
“The M.E.’s official ruling was blunt force trauma to the head. But with no definitive explanation as to what caused it, and her fuck of an ex being the only other person with Nina at the time of her death, the authorities bought his story.”
“Which was?”
“They’d been drinking, and Nina tripped and fell. Hit her head on a landscaping brick when she landed.” Ivan looked away, unable to stare into eyes that drew him in while also picturing his sister laying in a pool of her own blood. “That son of a bitch killed her.” He’d never be convinced otherwise. “Unfortunately there was no way to prove it.”
“I’m sorry,” Cera rendered softly. “I can imagine how frustrating that must be for you and your family.”
He brought his gaze back to hers. Yeah, he supposed she could imagine it, given her own issues with evidence and uncovering the truth.
“Thanks.” A slight dip of his chin.
“No, Ivan. Thankyou.” When his expression turned inquisitive, she said, “You know pretty much all there is to know about me, and…I don’t know. As bad as it sounds, it’s nice to hear about someone else for a change. Not that your family’s tragic loss is nice. I don’t mean it like—”
His hand covered hers that time. “I understand what you mean, Cera.” Their stares became fixed on one another’s. “Truth is, I never talk about Nina.”
“You should.” Her bow-shaped lips curved in a bittersweet smile. “For so long, I’ve kept my family to myself. In the beginning, I was afraid to share what memories I had with anyone else. Because those were mine, you know?” Unshed tears glistened as she spoke. “They were all I had left. But listening to you talk about Nina… I don’t know.” She released a slow, steady breath. “Do you think maybe we’re dishonoring those memories more bynotputting them out into the world?”
The question sent him back in his seat, his hand unintentionally slipping from hers in the process. “I never thought about it like that before.” But now that he had, “I think you’re right. Keeping all that shit bottled up inside… It’s almost like—”
“Burying them all over again.”
Damn. He couldn’t have said it better himself.