Free Written in the Scars by Adriana Locke Page A

savior and brings me home, watches me in my inebriated state.
    So not the image I want him to have of me, and Jiggs knows that.
    “Damn it, Jiggs.”
    “Listen to me. He—”
    “No,” I cut him off. “I can’t think about this right now.” I rise off the chair, my stomach all acidy again. “He can’t just waltz back in here and bring me home and see me like that. It’s not okay. And to hell with you for letting him! I’m your sister, James!”
    “And he’s your husband.”
    I whip around to face him. “Is he? Or did he just see something last night that contested his manhood? Did him seeing me get hit on by Pettis make him go all alpha? Like I was some kind of fire hydrant in a pissing match?”
    “Don’t do this.”
    “Why? Because he should be allowed to just come and go in my life when he feels like it? Because that’s not happening.”
    He sinks back into the sofa and sighs.
    My eyes narrow. “You have no idea what he’s put me through.” I’m sure it’s the alcohol that’s still pumping through my body that makes those words sound choppier than I’d like. He doesn’t know I was pregnant. Only Lindsay does, and I swore her to secrecy. The coupling of losing my husband and our baby in the matter of a few short days was just too much humiliation to admit to. I wanted no pity, no casseroles, no cards. I just wanted to be sad. Then bitter. All of it alone if it wasn’t with Ty. I deserved that reprieve and it’s the only secret I’ve kept from my brother.
    “I know he’s broken your heart. I get it.”
    “No, you don’t,” I laugh angrily. “You don’t have any clue how deep my scars go.”
    Jiggs scans my face, trying to see what I mean. He quirks a brow. “I’ll listen if you want to tell me.”
    “I don’t.”
    Rolling his eyes, his jaw pulls tight. “The two of you are going to be the death of me.”
    My heart breaks, but I say the words anyway. “I’m not sure there is a ‘two of us’ anymore.”
    We watch each other, a sadness in the room that’s almost as thick as it was the day our parents passed away.
    “Jiggs, I’m just . . . I’m really, really tired of this,” I say through the strangle in my throat. “I’m tired of being sad and I’m tired of hoping he’ll come back. Him bringing me home wasn’t him coming back. That was him being jealous and while it’s entertaining and I might even enjoy that a little bit, it’s not us being together,” I sniffle.
    Jiggs rises from the couch but doesn’t come towards me. He just stands, shoulders slumped, almost as saddened by this as I am. “When did it get this bad between you two?”
    Walking to the mantle, I pick up the picture of us. I trace his jawline with my finger. “I can’t even remember. He was fine after the accident. At first, anyway. Then everything folded on top of itself. I think he got depressed. I know I felt pressure to take care of it all. He received unemployment, but no insurance payout and no overtime. Things got so tight. So I had the infertility money we’d been putting back . . .”
    “Ah, Sis.”
    “It just started feeling like this black hole, Jiggs. Like everything was shit and we both felt that. There was nothing to look forward to anymore.”
    My brother lets out a sigh, his hands clasping in front of him. “I knew he’d withdrawn some. When he put in his resignation from the team, I came over. Asked what was up and he just said he couldn’t do it anymore. I knew that was bullshit because those kids were his everything. But the harder I pushed, the more he refused to talk.”
    “Dustin would come by,” I say, my throat tight. “It didn’t help. I didn’t know what to do. I just kept thinking if we could have a baby, that would shine some light on this. Give us something to come together about. Instead, it caused even more stress, and then I had to use the money to live and then I found out he was taking some of it too . . .”
    “The perfect storm.”
    “Yeah.” Shaking