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and beat it caveman-style while telling everyone about my super sperm.
    “Huh, so I heard the wedding went without a hitch. Apparently, it went really well.” He laughed before he gulped from his bottle. “It’s good, Liam. I’m pleased for you.” His smile fell, his blank expression once again firmly in place. “So, other than you calling in Lane a few weeks back for a favour, when you know you should have called me, but that’s shit I’m willing to forget, I repeat, why’d you call me?”
    And that was the crux of it all. I hadn’t wanted to call Mace. For a big brother, we’d had a shitty rollercoaster ride of it over the years, and if Jo knew I’d called him, she’d be pissed as hell. Shit, pissed wouldn’t even cover the world of pain I knew she’d throw at me, but I had no idea what else I could do.
    Over the last few years, I’d managed pretty much on my own, or rather, it was just Jo and me. We’d been inseparable and it worked. It really was as simple as that. She was the other half of my soul; we connected and fitted together perfectly. But perfectly was not to be confused with perfect. We fought up a storm at times, and drove each other to distraction, but for the last three years especially, it had been just the two of us. I almost tagged on the addition of her crazy family and Ella, who were amazing and always there for both of us, but it was Jo and I who had to work every day at not allowing the past to swallow us whole. Somehow, we’d managed to do that together, and damn if that didn’t make me love her even more.
    Seven years ago , I had walked away from my family, or most of them, and tried not to look back. I’d also been foolish enough to let Jo leave me. It wasn’t until three years later that we reconnected, and thank Christ we did. Three years was long enough without her in my life for real. We’d been in touch the whole time, even slept together, but it took her that long to truly deal with the damage of three years earlier. Mace and I had been in touch when we needed to be, but it tended to be about the business. Some things were still too painful. But I had since reached the point when the shit was going to hit the fan, and that fucker was on full-speed and was about to shower us with so much crap, I didn’t know if I’d ever come out on the other side clean. My only solution was Mace. My brother, who’d always had my back when it mattered, had, however, managed to let me down in the worst possible way. He owed me, owed Jo, and it was time to call him out to make good on what he and I were unable to make right seven bloody years ago.
    I reached behind me and pulled out the folded piece of paper from my jeans pocket. Concentrating hard not to allow my hand to shake, I passed it to Mace. “Did you know?” My voice was low, sad. I hoped to God that his answer was no. The thought of the alternative was too much. There’d be no recovery from it.
    A deep frown sat between his brows as he reached for the paper and unfolded it. His eyes moved over the page, scanning each word, taking in each line. I saw his muscles bunch and tense under his black t-shirt and his jaw clench tightly. I released the breath I hadn’t realised I had been holding. He hadn’t known.
    “When did this arrive?”
    “This morning. I recognised the handwriting.”
    “Has Jo seen this?”
    “Of course not,” I snapped. “Shit, Mace, she’s pregnant. We should be celebrating. What the hell do you think his letter would do to her? Shit.” I slammed the palm of my hand down hard on the bar. A heaviness settled in my stomach. I had no idea how I’d managed to keep my crap together since discovering the damn thing. It was just after lunch and only now with the harsh reality of Mace recognising the letter for what it was, did I begin to feel the rage burning in my gut.
    “I’ll take care of it.”
    My fists were white, balled tightly.
    “I said I’ll take care of it. Give me until tomorrow to check