Home | Happy Lowman/OC (Book 1)

twenty-four

"What happened to your brother?" Happy asked in the early hours of the morning before the sun started to come up. Victoria laid with her head on his chest, one leg tangled between his. It was a question she'd been asked only a few times in her life, but never by a boyfriend. Never by Cameron.

"He was shot and killed."

"I know that. Tell me the part I don't."

Happy ran his fingers through her freshly washed hair lazily. They hadn't slept yet, an unspoken understanding that they shouldn't waste their final peaceful hours together asleep. They'd talked for a while, then showered, spending an unnecessary amount of time in the bathroom with the lights turned off, just enjoying the heat of the water and the feel of each other in the dark.

"We were at a party," she started, closing her eyes.

Immediately, flashbulb memories popped up and vanished inside her head, quick and out of order. "Me, Jac, my brother, this guy I was seeing—Antonio. It was just like any other night. So ordinary even now. Gabriel had been miserable for weeks, stressed about this new crew he was working with, but that night he was happy. Smiling and laughing. That I remember so clearly."

Her chest squeezed as she pictured her brother's face—handsome with eyes that'd already seen too much of the world at such a young age. They were sad, soulful eyes. "We'd walked to the party. It wasn't far from Antonio's place, so when Jacquelyn was close to passing out, we decided to head back, all four of us."

Victoria traced the lines of Happy's tattoos, anything to keep her hand busy while recalling the worst night of her life. Hot tears burned at the back of her eyes. Happy soothed her, his own fingers moving from her hair to her back, touching the place at its center where the tattoo in Gabriel's honor was inked into her skin.

"Jacquelyn needed water, so I ran into the convenience store just a few blocks from the party while Gabriel waited outside with her. Antonio came with me. It was late and I was drunk, too, you know, not safe to be alone. I just remember the sound of screeching brakes and gunshots. Three shots." She hesitated, throat clenching. "Gabriel recognized the car before it happened. He'd put Jacquelyn down on the sidewalk and ran across the street so they wouldn't hurt her," she whispered, reaching up to wipe the falling tears away.

Happy tipped her face up so he could see her and she closed her eyes, not wanting to meet his.

"I'm sorry," he said, leaning forward to kiss her forehead.

She smiled sadly and rested her head back on his chest. "They got away with it, too. No one was ever arrested."

"The crew he'd been working for. It was them, wasn't it?"

"That's what Antonio thought. Jacquelyn was practically unconscious. She didn't see a face or much of the car other than the color—dark blue or black. It makes sense that it was them. He wanted no part in their operation, but he knew too much already."

Happy was quiet for a while. "And you were there. Did you see it happen?"

"No. When I got outside he was already lying on the ground. Gone."

He squeezed her tight with both arms, so tight she couldn't take a breath, but it felt good. When he released her, she leaned up. "Thank you," she whispered.