Elf Against the Wall: A Holiday Romantic Comedy (The Wynter Brothers Book 2)
Elf Against the Wall: Chapter 53

“Why didn’t you tell me?” My older brother sat in front of me, wearing the same blank expression he used when giving bad news to clients.

“Because I gave my word,” I said simply. “I promised.”

Hudson shook his head. “Henry Murphy.”

“He was my friend. I don’t leave my friends out to hang.”

“I can’t fucking believe this. You spent that Christmas in jail. I was so…” My brother shook his head like he was trying to get rid of the memory.

“I know they sent you to prison after that fire.” I rested a hand on his shoulder. “But it wasn’t like that. I just read books. I had my own cell.”

“My little brother. Little Andy.”

“Hudson, I’m—” My voice cracked. “I’m sorry.”

Hudson crushed me to his chest.

His girlfriend, Gracie, came in with a tray of steaming herbal tea. She rubbed Hudson’s back, making sympathetic noises.

“I’ve been working on a new drone design. You can strap a flamethrower to it, and we can burn down his house,” Lawrence joked.

“Didn’t Anderson spend all day decorating it?” Jake asked.

“Okay, so we just jump him in the parking lot.” Talbot cracked his knuckles.

“Just leave it alone,” I ordered them.

“I’m not going to leave it alone.” Hudson bared his teeth. “I’m going to bury him. I’m writing a letter.”

Lawrence and Jake collapsed in fits of giggles.

“He’s writing a strongly worded letter.”

“Gracie, you neutered him.”

Gracie sniffed. “Never underestimate the power of a strongly worded email.”

“When Elsa comes into town, she’ll help us beat the shit out of him,” Talbot said confidently.

I checked my watch. “I’d better go pick her up.”

Tinny carols filtered over the sound system at the ancient bus station in the heart of the Gulch.

The doors creaked at the bus terminal as I pushed out to the bus parking. In the fifties, someone had envisioned this bus station as the way of the future. Now the tapered columns and streamlined overhangs just looked shabby, the neon lights flickering, the chrome accents dulled from years of salt and grime.

A bus cranked its diesel engine and puttered away, revealing a red-haired man sitting on a bench. He looked up at me.

“Finally come for your revenge?” he called.

I loped over to him, dodging piles of soggy garbage.

“Nah, I’m here to pick up my sister.”

“You guys have a big Christmas planned?” Henry asked, face drawn.

“My brother is trying and failing to fix up his house. So we’re going be eating frozen beans for Christmas and performing manual labor.”

“Oh.” Henry glanced down at the bag on his lap.

“I told my family.” His eyes met mine, hurt on his face. “I told them what I did to you. How I fucked you over. I am so sorry, Anderson. You didn’t deserve that. I know this doesn’t help you, but I’m sorry I fucked up your life.”

“Hey, you don’t get to take credit for shit I did all by my lonesome,” I joked.

“Do you think you can forgive Evie?,” Henry asked quietly. “It’s not her fault—she was defending me. Not that I deserved it.”

I gave him a crooked smile. “Like I said, don’t take credit for shit I fucked up all by myself.”

“I’m going to make it right,” Henry said firmly.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” I frowned. “You hear me?” I shook his shoulder. “I didn’t save your life just for you to ruin Christmas.”

“I wasn’t. Just trying to psych myself up to do the right thing,” he assured me. “Be the better person and live up to my own hype.”

“Sometimes that’s overrated. Ask me how I know.”

“You’re the best person I know. You’re honorable. Brave. You know how to do shit. You’re who I always wanted to be.” Henry made a helpless gesture.

“Like I said, it’s overrated.”

“Why’d you do it? Why’d you accept the blame?”

I shrugged my shoulders helplessly. “Because I thought we were friends. I thought we were brothers.”

Henry was crushed. “I’m sorry I let them believe the lie. I didn’t think anyone would be hurt by it. I thought you were going to tell them.” Henry looked so devastated.

I sighed. I was suddenly bone-achingly exhausted. “They separated us. I thought that you and I were going to keep ten toes on the ground. I wasn’t going to rat you out. I’m not a snitch.”

“I already sent in my resignation letter and notified the government since I work on high-security projects.” Henry patted his laptop bag. “I’m going to lose my job and my security clearance when they all get back from vacation.”

“They work holidays at the Pentagon,” I told him. “So they’ll tell you bright and early Christmas morning. Ask me how I know.”

Henry let out a long breath. “So it’s over. I still feel like shit but at least not a lying piece of shit.”

“That’s progress.”

“You know, what I really regret the most is throwing away our friendship.”

“Maybe in the New Year, if you survive your bus ride, we can shoot some pucks?” I offered.

“Why are you forgiving me?” Henry asked.

I shrugged. “It’s Christmas. I’m moved by the holiday spirit.”

A bus with an inflatable Santa in the window pulled up with a screech.

“All yous, get off the bus!” the driver yelled. “Final stop, Maplewood Falls. I am a man of a certain age. I am not carrying anyone off this bus. It is going straight to the depot.”

My sister bounded off the bus. She saw Henry and immediately slugged him in the jaw. “Fuck you, asshole.”

“Shit,” he yelped.

“Elsa!”

My little sister hugged me. “I need to get my bags before someone steals them.”

“What the hell did you bring?” I grumbled, dragging her overstuffed suitcases out of the under-bus storage.

On the bench, Henry watched sadly, rubbing his jaw.

“Do not invite him for Christmas dinner,” Elsa hissed at me. “Hudson is right. You are going soft. The holidays are not an excuse to wimp out. Now, hurry up—I have a moose roast that’s probably defrosting.”