CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

“Do we have to go on the boat, Brad?” asked his sister.

“We do, honey. We have to do this so that we can get the money and move away to somewhere warm,” he said, pulling the jacket tighter around her neck. She would be wearing a long red cloak over her clothing, but it was surprisingly cold outside and even colder out on the water.

“Will we have enough money to go shopping?” she asked.

“Yes, we can go shopping,” he said, smiling at his sister. “I’m going to take care of you, Marilu. Just like I did when we were kids. Everything is going to be okay.”

“I believe you,” she said innocently.

In so many ways, his sister was a brilliant woman. Her mathematical mind, her ability to see and understand numbers bordered on savant level. But when it came to anything else, she was completely innocent and out of her realm.

He’d argued with his parents all those years ago when they wanted to marry her off to Isaac. It wasn’t that he was a bad guy. In fact, he was a great guy. Just not the right guy for his sister. She needed tenderness and understanding. All the drugs her parents fed her to keep her calm made her catatonic.

They were as close as a brother and sister could be. People thought it was strange that he wanted to be close to her. They kissed one another on the mouth when they greeted or departed one another. That wasn’t strange. That was love. They didn’t touch one another, they didn’t have sex, they didn’t see one another naked.

For all his faults, Brockman loved his sister to the ends of the earth and only wanted to protect her, and he didn’t feel as though Isaac was capable of doing that. His career was rising, he was rising in rank, and as he did so, his sister was left behind.

She couldn’t be left behind. She needed someone with her all the time, or she might hurt herself. He spoke to her at least four times a day, sometimes more if she was having an episode, and there was no predicting when those would occur.

He turned to give her a reassuring smile and noticed that she was already trying to take her clothing off.

“No, no, darling,” he said calmly, placing a hand over hers. “We won’t take our clothing off. Not here.”

“But I don’t like it. It itches,” she said.

“I know. We’ll be somewhere soon where you won’t ever have to wear clothing if you don’t want to.”

Her parents sought out specialists from around the world when she started removing her clothing without notice. She claimed that it irritated her skin. At first, doctors proclaimed that she had eczema. They tried topical treatments, baths, even injections, but nothing worked. Later, they determined that it wasn’t related to her skin. It wasn’t physical. It was all related to her mental impairments.

That was when their father decided it was time his sister got married. He had to hand it to him. He’d done his research in finding Isaac. An officer, a gentleman, faithful, loyal, loving, he was the perfect husband. Just not for his sister.

It had been difficult to ensure that he was stationed near them during their marriage. He wanted to be available to his sister whenever she needed him. This was about love. He looked over at her sitting quietly on the sofa. He’d had to give her something to calm her anxiety, and he hated doing that but needed to keep her under control for a little while longer.

“Come along, darling. It’s time for us to go. We’re going to be Mr. and Mrs. Claus and give the people what they need.”

“Shouldn’t we give them what they want?” she asked innocently.

“They don’t know what they want or what they need. Only we know that. Here’s a secret. It really doesn’t matter. I’m going to give them something they will never forget. Then, you and I will go somewhere warm with a lot of money and new business associates that will keep us happy for our entire lives.”

She stared at him, frowning.

“What’s wrong?” he asked.

“What about your duty?” she asked him. He was shocked that she even remembered he served in the military as well. Sometimes, she didn’t understand anything other than what was right in front of her.

“My duty? Marilu, you’re my duty. You’re my sister, and I’m going to take care of you,” he said calmly.

“No,” she said, shaking her head. “No. You’re an officer, and you have to take care of the country and your men. Isaac always said duty and honor. Duty and honor. Duty and honor.”

“Honey, I need for you to focus. Isaac isn’t here any longer.”

“Where is he?” He let out a long, slow sigh, hoping it would help his patience level, but it was not.

“Marilu, we don’t have time for this. We have to go. Isaac is dead. You know that.”

“Dead?” she frowned. “Did I kill him?”

“No. No, you didn’t kill him.” He held his breath, waiting for her to decide whether or not she would move forward or turn back. She could be highly unpredictable at times. He didn’t want to give her more medication, but he would if it meant getting to the boats on time.

She stood from the sofa, straightening her coat and pushing back her wild hair. Staring at him, she smiled and nodded.

“Okay, Brad. I’m ready.”