Mitch’s gaze struck Brock’s like a flame. The familiar flare-up of the notorious Colony temper quickly emerged. “I fucking knocked a few times.”
“And then what?” Rory pressed. “You ran before anyone had time to find you on the porch?”
The room was suddenly quiet. Brock took the opportunity to inspect the place. Mitch’s accommodations weren’t lavish. In fact, the room he’d rented appeared standard with two double beds separated by a nightstand between them, a small dresser, and a table and chairs. Brock was surprised he hadn’t booked a stay at one of the area’s diamond-graded resorts.
“Look at the two of you leading perfect lives with the perfect woman at your side. Hell, you’re even raising the perfect little family with one boy and one girl. What more could you ask for, right?”
“You could’ve had precisely what we have. You’re the one who made your bed,” Rory reminded him.
“And I’ve had to lie in it!” Mitch yelled in an agonized voice. “Every. Damn. Day.”
“You chose to take responsibility for Jordie Anne,” Brock reminded him calmly. He refused to coddle Mitch’s conscience.
“I was responsible for what happened to her. Without me, she had no one.”
“She had no one with you. When you agreed to marry her, you knew you were headed to prison and Jordie would remain institutionalized.” Brock set his beer on the counter. “You even went as far as to tell Trixie you loved Jordie. She was your reason for living. Remember?”
“I told Trixie what I wanted her to believe so she could move on and live a good life with you.”
“And she has,” Brock grated out. “But you’re here to screw around with that happiness. Aren’t you?”
“No, Brock. I’m not.”
“Then what do you want?” Brock asked, stalking him. “What the hell could you possibly want now, Mitch? Wasn’t it enough that Jordie Anne nearly killed Trixie’s sister? Wasn’t it enough that she stalked the Cartwell women for months on end while you were behind bars, incarcerated by your own guilty admission and unable to do anything to reassure Jordie? In fact, you nearly taunted her. Didn’t you?”
“No.” Mitch’s denial sounded sincere. He wouldn’t own that guilt for whatever reason. Perhaps he didn’t realize he’d provoked a killer.
“No?” Brock grunted. “Well at least you’re learning. You won’t take blame and carry guilt on your shoulders now, huh? Prison taught you to keep a stiff upper lip if nothing else.”
“I killed Stephen Pratchert for her! If I hadn’t, he would’ve found a way to eventually send someone to finish what he’d started. Do you honestly think I could’ve taken another man’s life for any other reason other than to guarantee Trixie’s safety? Do you really believe I would’ve ended his life for anyone else? I killed to protect the woman I love.”
Brock sat on the edge of the bed. He realized then, he’d taken a seat because Mitch’s words were like a punch to the gut. “You just think you love her. You don’t even know her now.”
“I don’t know her?” Mitch scoffed at that. “I know her as well as either of you and that’s what kills you, Sheldon. You’re afraid of what she still feels for me.”
Brock snorted. “The hell I am. You’re no threat to me. I know what Trixie feels for me and for Rory.”
“The hell you do. If you were so certain, you would’ve brought Trixie with you today. But oh no, you couldn’t risk that. She’s at home keeping the kids and you’re here for one reason.”
Rory stepped forward. “And what is that reason exactly?”
“You want me to leave town without seeing her.” Mitch’s gaze jumped from Rory to Brock and back to Rory again. “And that ain’t gonna happen, boys.”
Brock splayed his legs and dropped clasped hands between them. He’d been afraid of this. That part was true. He’d feared Mitch would come in and destroy their happy lives. He represented a sliver of darkness, an air of uncertainty, and Brock didn’t want his family susceptible to the dangers his life had represented.
Mitch didn’t just have a dark cloud hanging over his head. He was the blackest of eerie skies.
“Mitch, prison changed you,” Rory said gently. “Jordie Anne played havoc on your life as well. We all know you cared for Jordie. We know you loved her. You loved Trixie, sure, but you loved Jordie enough to marry her.”
Brock wasn’t sure he agreed with Rory’s line of thinking entirely. He’d always been suspicious about Mitch’s reasons for marrying Jordie, and none of them had anything to do with love.