I stared at the pair of them, Willow ever so pale, Carter's handsome face as kind and worried as I'd ever seen it. And those eyes, those beautiful dark eyes of his.
"Your brother had your eyes," I said. Maybe a silly thing to blurt out while he held his former employer at needlepoint and what had to be a lethal dose of Quexol in the barrel.
"I guess he did," he said. "But Jay was a hundred times the man I ever was." His face crumpled, moisture forming in his lashes. "I was a waste of space from day one, never made anything of myself. Got into drugs and petty crime while he set his heart on football. And he
made it, Fee." That smile. I'd fallen for the curve of it, the gentleness behind it. How had I misread him so badly? "He was making something of himself."
"Carter." Willow choked out his name. "I'm so sorry about your brother."