“He’s grown up a lot since then, although I think Laurella dragged him kicking and screaming into adulthood. Anyway, I was sore when he dumped me, but I soon got over it because the captain of the football team started paying me lots of attention. I wasn’t even a cheerleader, so you can imagine how that went down with the other girls. Tanner was the dream. Good-looking, fit, the envy of the school, and he was interested in little old me.” She stared off into the distance, lost in her own thoughts. “Stupidly, I married him. I was eighteen. For a while, things were good. He secured a tryout with the Chicago Bears, so we moved to Michigan. Then he damaged his knee and bam! Promising football career over. His way of coping with his terrible disappointment was to abuse me.”
Dex sucked in a breath. “He hit you?”
She shook her head. “Believe me, it would have been easier to deal with if he had. No, Tanner had a special way of breaking down my confidence, my self-esteem until I didn’t even know who I was anymore. He got inside my head, and he systematically destroyed me.”
“I’m so sorry,” Dex said, wondering why Millie was choosing to share all this with her.
“Oh, I’m not telling you for sympathy. My story ends well because Cole saved me. But I kept my secret for a long time. I thought people would blame me if they knew. ‘That stupid girl who let her husband walk all over her. I’d have kicked him into touch years ago. Why didn’t she? Maybe she liked him ruling over her.’ Yada yada. Anyhow, what I’m trying to say is I recognize the signs of someone carrying a terrible truth inside them. One they daren’t let loose, because they’re terrified of what will happen if they do.”
“Nate,” Dex said, more to herself than Millie, but the other woman nodded anyway.
“Don’t give up on him. He’s such a sad person, yet with you I see more than glimpses of… peace, I guess. Cole was my savior. I think you’re Nate’s.”
She yawned and got to her feet. “Sorry, honey, but I need my bed. When he comes back—and he will—try not to be too hard on him. But at the same time, don’t let him hide from the truth. If he’s ever going to tell anyone what’s bugging him, I think it will be you.”
Dex stared at the ceiling long after Millie had left, even though she was exhausted. But eventually, her eyes fell shut, and she slept.
Chapter 18
“Fuck!”
Dex’s eyes snapped open in time to see Nate hit the wall as he staggered through the bedroom door. She sat upright, watching him lurch toward her, reeking of booze. His hair stuck out at all angles, as though he’d been running his hands through it, he had a bruise on his right cheek, and his shirt was missing a couple of buttons.
“What the hell happened to you?” she whispered, conscious of Cole, Millie, and their baby sleeping right next door.
His unfocused gaze fell on her. With a stupid grin plastered over his face, he took another unsteady step—and collapsed onto the bed. “There you are,” he mumbled, clawing his way closer. He rested his head in her lap. “You smell gooood.”
She shoved him off her. “You’re drunk.”
He giggled. Nate did not giggle. Ever. A chuckle perhaps, or a snort of laughter.
“Drunk on you, Titch.” He tried to raise himself up, but couldn’t manage it, and collapsed back into his previous position then rolled onto his back. He closed his eyes.
“How much have you had to drink?” she asked, wondering whether he’d need his stomach pumped. When he didn’t respond, she punched his arm. “Nate!”
“Ow.” He turned onto his side, curling his knees into his chest. “Make love not war, Titch.”
She struggled to figure out what he’d said, because he was slurring all over the place. Her heart clenched. Poor Nate. He must be hurting really bad to get this wasted. Sure, he liked a drink, but from what she’d seen of him these past weeks, he was always in control.
“Shall I call a doctor?”
He violently shook his head. “No doctor.”
“Your brothers, then? Shall I get Jax, or Cole?”
A deep frown scored between his eyebrows. “What brothers?”
Jesus. He was utterly loaded. “Your brothers, dickhead. Shall I wake Jax or Cole, or call Calum?”
“Not my brothers,” he muttered. “Not proper brothers.”
“Nate.” Another arm shake followed by a second punch. “What are you talking about?”
He swatted the air with his hand. “Need sleep.”
And before she could say another word, he turned over. In seconds, he was snoring.
But Nate’s untimely arrival had put paid to any sleep she was likely to get. She got out of bed and tiptoed across the room, not that it made a difference to Nate. A pneumatic drill starting up right next to him would be unlikely to even stir him. He’d have a hell of a headache the next day, though.
The living area was quiet as she strolled into the kitchen. A cup of hot milk with some sugar might help her drop back off, but usually, once her sleep was disrupted, she always struggled to get back to dreamland.
She put the pan on the stove and half-filled it with milk. Within a couple of minutes, tiny bubbles formed. She removed it from the heat in case it got a skin and poured it into a cup. She added two spoonfuls of sugar and took a seat at the breakfast bar.
What on earth had Nate meant, not proper brothers? When she was younger, she’d occasionally disowned Elva as a sister, usually when she wouldn’t do as Dex wanted, but Nate wasn’t a child, and he hadn’t fallen out with his siblings. He’d fallen out with her. She rubbed her forehead. None of this made sense. Not his immature tantrum which resulted in him storming out, nor his refusal to have a proper discussion on the subject. And now he’d gotten so drunk he could barely speak.
She finished her milk and, with a heavy sigh, went back to bed. She must have fallen asleep eventually because the sun woke her. Groaning, she glanced at her watch. Seven-thirty. Nate had rolled in around two, which meant he wouldn’t be awake for a while. He was still dressed in his clothes and shoes from the previous evening and Dex watched his chest rise and fall, vowing that he could get as angry as he liked, but she wasn’t letting him get away with averting a grown-up discussion any longer.
She took a quick shower, dressed, and left Nate still snoring to go out for a walk. She plugged Central Park into the maps app on her cell and set off. Nate had planned for them to visit the park today, but given the sizeable hangover he would have, chances were he’d spend the day slouching around on the couch, no doubt feeling sorry for himself. Well, screw him. She’d sightsee on her own. No way was she coming all the way to New York City without ticking off every single must-do item on her list.
The park came into view, and she spotted a bike rental shop down a side street. A selection of bikes was already lined up outside, which meant they were open. She wandered inside and, after filling out a form and paying a deposit and rental fee for an hour, she set off toward the park.
She stopped when she reached the Alice in Wonderland bronze sculpture. She’d read about this when researching where to go, and it was at the top of her list. She loved that book so much. Taking out her phone, she shot a couple of pictures, but as she got back on her bike, her cell rang. She glanced down at the screen.
Nate.
Keeping her voice slow and steady, she answered. “You’re awake then?”
“Where are you?”
In usual Nate style, his tone was brusque and commanding, and whereas she usually didn’t mind, this morning, it grated.
“What’s it to you?”
A pause, followed by a deep sigh. “How long are you going to make me grovel?”
“Well, seeing as you haven’t even started yet, that’s difficult to answer.”
She could have sworn she heard a low chuckle, but then he sighed. “I’m sorry for snapping, okay? And for running out on you.”
“And for getting wasted. And for saying some horrible things, like telling me to go fuck myself.”
“Jesus, you reall
y are milking this for all it’s worth. I didn’t fucking mean it, you crazy woman.”
“Do you remember what you said to me last night, after you came home stinking of booze and staggering all over the place?”
“Whatever it was, I’m guessing it wasn’t good.”
She propped up her bike on its stand and perched on one of the toadstools in front of the Mad Hatter.
“Dex?” Concern and worry laced his voice when she didn’t respond.
Good. Let him stew and think he’d been horrible when, in fact, his comments had simply caused confusion.
“You still there?”
“You were so drunk, you could barely stand. After you collapsed on the bed, I was worried about you being sick and choking. I asked if you wanted me to fetch a doctor. You were very adamant in telling me no. So I asked if you wanted me to get your brothers. Your response, and I quote, was ‘Not my brothers. Not proper brothers’. What did you mean by that?”
Dead silence greeted her. She couldn’t even hear him breathing. She looked at her screen in case they’d been cut off. Nope. Still connected.
“Nate?” Now it was her turn to sound worried.
He laughed, but it sounded husky and raw, and very forced. “No idea what I meant. I was hammered.”
“You’re lying.”
She didn’t know how she could sense he wasn’t being truthful with her, but her intuition was firing like crazy.
“Where are you?” he eventually said.
“Central Park. I’m coming back now.”
“No, don’t. I’ll come to you. Meet me outside the main entrance to The Plaza. Can you find that?”
“Yeah.”
“On my way.”
He hung up, leaving Dex with a very uneasy feeling. He’d sounded exhausted, beaten, scared even. Why wouldn’t he want her to come back to the hotel where they could talk in private? It didn’t make any sense. He wasn’t making any sense.
She returned the bike to the rental shop, recovered her deposit, and walked to The Plaza. By the time she got there, Nate was already waiting. He must have sprinted to get there so quickly, but he didn’t look out of breath, only wary.
He sauntered over to greet her, meeting her halfway.
“Hey.” He offered her a wry smile. “You didn’t punch me.”
“You’re lucky I didn’t smother you while you slept.”
“Then the fact I fell asleep with that as a potential outcome must mean I trust you.”
She twisted her lips to the side, considering his comment. “Do you, though? Do you trust me enough to tell me what’s really going on? And don’t even think about denying it. We might not have known each other long, but I’m not stupid, Nate.”
He let out a sigh, and his eyes briefly closed. “Come with me.”
She allowed him to take her hand. He walked into The Plaza, right across the lobby, stopping in front of the reception desk.
“We need a room.”
Why do we need a room? She went to ask, but Nate gave a brief shake of his head and squeezed her hand in a silent no.
The man behind the desk glanced up, recognition evident in the slight bow to his head. “Certainly, Mr. Brook.” He put out his hand which Nate shook. “I’m Andrei, the assistant manager. Anything you need, rest assured I’m at your service.”
Dex suppressed a giggle at his formality while Nate responded with, “Thank you.”
Andrei tapped on a keyboard. “Our junior king suite is available. It comes with full butler service, of course.”
“A regular room will be fine.”
Andrei swiped his card then handed it back to Nate. “Our normal check in time isn’t until three p.m., but for you, Mr. Brook, I’m sure we can make an exception.”
“Great.”
“How many keys will you be requiring?”
“One.”
“Certainly.” He coded the key and passed it over. “The elevators are right over there, sir.”
“Thanks.”
A few minutes later, Nate opened the door to their hotel room, except it wasn’t like any hotel room she’d ever stayed in.
“This is bigger than my apartment,” she said. “Why have you brought me to a hotel?”
Nate sagged wearily onto a sofa positioned at the end of the bed, his legs sprawling in front of him. “I don’t want our conversation to be overheard, and don’t give me a hard time about extravagance. I refused the suite, didn’t I?”
Dex chuckled, taking the seat beside him. “I thought I might have had something to do with that.”
Nate hitched a shoulder. “I learned my lesson.” He knitted their fingers together. “I really am sorry, Titch. I shouldn’t have spoken to you like I did last night.”
Something about his demeanor scared her. Fear turned her stomach. Millie was right. Nate needed to share his inner turmoil about his family with someone before it slowly ate him alive. Might as well be her. She could cope with whatever it was… couldn’t she?
She squeezed his forearm. “I’m very discreet, Nate. You can trust me. Whatever you tell me stays between us.” She crossed her heart. “I will take it to my grave, on my mother’s life.”
He covered his face with his hands and rubbed hard. “I’m tempted. It’d be good to say the words aloud instead of listening to them screaming inside my head for the last seven years, but I’m scared to.” He expelled a sharp, bitter laugh. “I bet that’s a turn-off, right? I’m the man. I’m supposed to be the strong one.”
She shook her head. “Showing you’re vulnerable is actually a huge turn-on, Nate. At least for me. I don’t want a boyfriend who pretends to be something he’s not. I want the real you.”
He touched his forefinger to his bottom lip and stared at the wall opposite, lost in thought.
“If you tell a soul, I swear to God—”
“I won’t. Trust me, please. I won’t let you down.”
He turned to her then and reached out for a lock of her hair, letting it run through his fingers. “What is it about you, Titch? We’ve only known each other a month, yet I feel like we’ve been together for years.”
Her heart skipped a beat because that was exactly how she felt. “I guess with some people, time is irrelevant,” she said gently. “And then there are others who spend their whole lives together and never really know the other person.”
“Yeah, I guess.” He took a deep breath through his nose and then exhaled slowly. “Let me finish before you speak, okay?”
When she nodded, he began to talk.
“Jax, Calum, and Cole aren’t my full brothers. Mom had an affair, and I was the by-product. When I see my brothers now, I’m reminded that I’m an outsider, an interloper, and the woman I adored more than life itself was a liar and a cheat. That’s why I hate coming to New York. Because it fucking hurts.”
Whatever she’d expected him to share, that was not it. The pain in his eyes cut through her, and she automatically reached for his hand, squeezing for all she was worth as he continued.
“Seven years ago, I came home from RADA for Thanksgiving. I was looking through bits and pieces of Mom’s stuff that Jax had kept around. He’d put most of it in storage, but there was a box of trinkets and cards we’d made her when we were little, that kind of thing, which he’d kept on hand for some reason. There was a letter inside an envelope containing a birthday card. I’ve no idea how it got there.” He grimaced. “Not that it matters.”
His gaze returned to the wall. As he hadn’t given her a sign he’d finished, she kept her silence, but her grip on his hand remained steadfast. She hoped he’d take some comfort from it. What a terrible thing to find out, and then to keep to himself all these years. Her heart ached for him. To have everything you believed to be true torn apart. More than a minute passed, and still he didn’t carry on with the story.
“What did the letter say?” she asked as gently as she could.
His head dropped, chin curved into his chest. She wanted to hold him, to take his
pain and make it her own.
“It was from him in response to her ending their affair. She’d sent him a letter which he’d sent back to her with one of his own agreeing to leave her alone. Apparently, my dad—and by that, I mean the man who raised me—had found out everything. He’d given Mom an ultimatum. End the affair and they’d never speak of it again, or he’d throw her, and me, out on the street and make sure she never saw Jax or the twins again. My sperm donor didn’t mention me at all, as though I didn’t even exist. From the date on the letter, I’d just turned six months old.”
“Jesus,” Dex muttered.
He rubbed his eyes and then his forehead, as though he was trying to scrub away the hideous memories.
“It all became so clear to me then: the way Dad kept me at a distance, yet was so close with the others; how he’d be much harder on me over everything. My grades at school, how tidy I kept my bedroom, telling me I couldn’t have friends over, yet my brothers were allowed as many as they liked. Mom overcompensated for his behavior. She’d tell me how special I was, how gorgeous, kind, bright, clever. But I always knew something was different. That I was different.” His eyes cut to hers, and the depth of hurt in them broke her heart. “So, yeah, now you know.”
It was her cue to talk, but instead, she climbed on to his lap and hugged him as tight as she could manage. She wanted to take the agonizing memories festering inside him into her own body, cleanse them, and give them back to him, almost like money laundering for the mind. Except she couldn’t. All she could do was silently tell him that she was there for him, that it didn’t matter to her what terrible things lurked in his past. She wanted him regardless, every fucked-up, wonderful, amazing part. His past shaped the man he was today—sometimes angry and hurtful, but always magnificent.
“What do you need, Nate?”
He drew back, his eyes searching her face. She didn’t know what he was looking for, but he must have found it because he gave a small nod, curved his hands beneath her ass, and stood. Without saying a word, he carried her to the bed and set her down. His mouth searched for hers, and as their tongues came together, his touch became urgent. He undressed her quickly, and then himself, but as he nestled between her parted thighs, he slowed down as though her compliance to giving him what he needed had soothed an ache she couldn’t see but could definitely feel.
Web of Lies: A Brook Brothers Novel Page 16