The door handle bit into her palm, cold.
“Harley! Calm down.” Jericho, his low voice reaching out.
She ignored him, shoved outside, and stood on the stoop, huddled into her coat, the hood up, the wind howling, the cold reaching into her bones and turning them brittle. The trees creaked, and the night pitched so thick around her, she could get lost ten steps from the lighted house.
Oh, she wanted to run.
“Harley.”
The door had opened. Just Gabe’s voice now. “Don’t be this way.”
She rounded on him. “Seriously? Don’t be ... what?”
He stood, his mouth a tight line.
“Five years, Gabe. Five years of thinking you were dead.” Her voice cracked. “Of blaming myself for not rescuing you.”
He looked away then, frowned. “I didn’t think that you’d blame yourself—”
“Are you kidding? OfcourseI blamed myself. I’m your big sister. I spent my entire life protecting you—”
“You left for Juneau after Mom and Dad were buried.”
She stilled. Swallowed. She had. “I know. I was running, maybe. And that’s why I blamed myself for your . .. I should have stayed.”
“No. You had a life. That’s what I’m saying. You left, and I had to figure it out. And I did. I really did.” Gabe closed the gap, reaching for her. “But I never meant for it to turn out like this.”
She hadn’t moved, hadn’t walked into his embrace, her breaths slowing, the deep ache inside seeping through her. Her arms curled around herself. “Wow, I missed you.” Her eyes blurred. “I really missed you.”
“I missed you too.” Then his arms came around her, solid and warm andreal. She couldn’t move.
But more of her anger fell away.
Fine.She put her arms around him, the stronger, older version of her brother, clearly reborn, and simply held on. Tears spilled out and then she started to sob.
“I’m so sorry,” he said as he put his hand on the back of her head and just held her.
She couldn’t seem to stop it, this sudden breaking of the dam, all of it pouring out as Gabe tightened his hold on her.
“I’m sorry,” he said again. “I’m so sorry.” He said it over and over.
The ache finally dulled, and she lifted her head. “I don’t...”
Gabe touched her face. “We’re going to fix this. You and me—”
“And me.”
She looked past Gabe to see Jericho standing in the door.
“Just making sure there wasn’t a murder being committed out here.”
She looked at him, shuddering. “You’re telling jokes right now?”
Gabe glanced at him. “I missed you too.”
And when Jericho held up a fist for Gabe to bump ... yeah, maybe they would be okay.
“You’re really back,” she said softly.