Eighty
“You should have saved him from that life a long time ago.”
Well, apparently the grieving was over. Justus was glad that Alan finally voiced what the entire Quartermaine family was undoubtedly thinking. Perhaps now the unnatural cloak of concern and support the family had worn all morning would fall away and they would revert to the squabbling, bickering group Justus had become accustomed to.
“Jason didn't want to be saved,” Justus replied calmly. “He didn't think there was anything he needed to be rescued from.”
“That's because he didn't know any better in the beginning! You could have pulled Jason aside and told him just what kind of future he was buying for himself.” Alan Quartermaine glared at his nephew.
“I knew that they would try to find a way to make you responsible for everything that happened.” All heads turned toward the mansion. Faith Ward stood at the edge of the patio and fixed the Quartermaines with a hard stare.
Justus smiled at the picture his sister presented. Faith was outfitted in a skintight red leather outfit that made the tips of his ears hot. He quickly crossed the expanse of perfectly manicured lawn and embraced his sister. “Hey, Red. I didn't know you were coming.”
“I thought you might need someone you could trust watching your back right now.”
“Ah… Faith, my dear!” Edward rushed toward his granddaughter with outstretched arms. “Come and sit next to me during the memorial.”
Faith stopped Edward with a haughty gesture of her hand. “That's far enough, old man,” she warned through gritted teeth. Quickly she glanced over at the garden where all the members of the Quartermaine clan sat assembled. They were silent and solemn, quite unlike themselves.
“Of course, if you would rather sit beside someone else,” Edward wheedled, “that is fine with me.” He put on an injured expression. “It was merely a suggestion. Your presence beside me might have lessened this old man's terrible grief over the loss of your cousin Jason.”
With a shake of her head Faith ignored her grandfather's attempt to manipulate her emotions. “I won't be staying for Jason's memorial.” She addressed her words to Alan and Monica. “I only came here to pick up his motorcycle.”
“Jason's motorcycle?” Monica cried.
“Yes.” Faith produced an official court document. “Jason promised me the motorcycle if anything ever happened to him.”
“To you? Jason didn't even know you!”
“Yes, he did. We became quite close cousins over the past three years. If you had known absolutely anything about your son's life, you would have known that. Now,” Faith raised an impatient brow, “where is my bike?”
