I know I don’t want to be with Vincent. I saw the look in his eyes when his carefully crafted mask dropped, and I still have the marks on my wrist where he grabbed me. I saw the insistence with which my mother tried to push us together.
I’m not sure if she’ll agree to finish the contract with Dominic. I’m not sure if Dominic wants to see me, or if he wants anything to do with me. All I know is that I have to talk to him. I have to tell him how I feel about him. I have to show him that he matters to me – that I’m not like my mother.
He has to understand that! He will, won’t he?
With every step, my confidence grows. Soon, a smile is playing on my lips as I think of kissing him. I can almost feel his arms around me and the way that our bodies melt together. I can feel the happiness growing in my chest as I get closer to him.
When I round the last corner, that happiness starts to fade. I frown as the trees thin and his small log house comes into view. I sweep my eyes over his front yard and my heart drops.
There are splinters of wood everywhere. The remnants of a table or a nightstand are all over the grass. There’s a leg near the edge of the tree-line, but the rest of the table is unrecognizable. I take a few hesitant steps forward and my heart starts thumping.
Whatever it was, it’s completely destroyed now. He must have smashed it over and over and over to get it to break this much. I pick up a piece of wood and turn it around in my hand, glancing toward the house. I look over at the workshop and see the door open.
I take a few slow steps as my heart hammers against my ribcage. With a deep breath, I peer inside the workshop and let out a sigh when I see it empty.
“Dominic?” I call out softly. I step inside and look around once more. “Dominic?”
I do a slow lap of the room, checking under the benches. I shake my head. Why would he be under there? When I’m sure the workshop is empty, I step back outside and close the door quietly behind me.
My breath is shallow as I tip-toe toward the house. The curtains are drawn, and I try to peek in the tiny opening between the edge of the window and the curtain. I can see a sliver of the room, but no sign of Dominic. My heart is racing now, and my palms are starting to sweat. I turn around and look at the destruction in the front yard one more time. What drove him to do this? Was it just seeing my mother upset at the hotel? Surely that wouldn’t drive him this crazy.
I turn back toward the door and walk up to it. I ball up my fist and lift it up, taking one last deep breath as I try to slow down my racing heartbeat. I close my eyes and knock.
I hold my breath as I wait for his heavy footsteps.
Nothing.
I’m greeted with complete silence. I take another deep breath and knock again, a bit louder this time. “Dominic?” I call out. I wait again, counting the seconds of silence that follow.
Finally, I shake my shoulders and take a deep breath. I put my hand on the doorknob and turn it slowly, hoping to find it locked. If it’s locked, I can turn around and go home. I can try to forget the smashed nightstand. I can call Dominic again later. I can figure out what’s going on.
But it’s not locked.
The doorknob turns in my hand, and I push the door open.
That’s when I see him. He’s collapsed on the sofa with crushed beer cans all around him. My hand flies up to my face in horror as I look at the state he’s in. I take a step inside and hesitate, afraid to breathe.
Should I try to wake him? I glance behind me at the smashed table and my heart sinks.
Is this the man that I know? Is this the man that I’ve been falling for?
He would come home and destroy something in a fit of rage and then drink himself to sleep?
The happiness I felt on the walk over is completely gone. I don’t know what to think, or how to feel, or what to do. I take a step toward him and accidentally kick a can. It spins on the floor toward him and knocks against his foot. My eyes widen and I wait for him to wake up, but he doesn’t even stir. I watch him for a few moments as my chest squeezes.
I still care about him. I don’t know what’s going on, and I don’t understand why he got upset and then drank himself to sleep, but I still want to be there for him.
Dominic’s head is at an unnatural angle, so I grab a cushion from the couch and prop his head up. It’s heavy, and he doesn’t wake up as I move him. I grab a blanket from the end of the bed and cover him before laying a soft kiss on his temple. He stinks of beer and he starts snoring. I stroke my finger along his cheek, scratching his stubble and imagining him groaning in satisfaction.
My heart sinks as I walk back toward the door. I glance from the destruction in the front yard to the mess in the house, and I feel like crying. I take a deep breath and close the door before making the long, painful walk back toward the hotel.
My father’s voice rings in my ears: Are you okay?
No, Dad. I’m definitely not okay. Not even close.
31
Dominic
My head is splitting. I try to sit up and groan as my whole body screams at me for moving. I squint at the pale light of dawn that filters through the window as I lift myself up. My blanket falls off and I look at the cushion behind me.
I don’t remember getting those yesterday. I frown, looking around me at the crumpled cans of beer before dropping my head into my hands.
Ugh.
I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve never been a drinker, and I’ve definitely never been one to drink myself into oblivion. I groan again as I brush the blanket off, looking at it one more time before leaning back on the sofa. I definitely don’t remember getting that from the bedroom, but who knows. All I remember is drinking beer, after beer, after beer.
I hardly even flinch when there’s a knock on the door. I sigh and bring my hands to my temples, rubbing them in slow circles to try to ease the pain radiating through my forehead. I don’t care who’s there. I just want to be left alone.
“Dominic!” Aiden’s voice calls out. “Dominic!”
I sigh, groaning as I heave myself off the couch. What is Aiden going to be mad about today? My feet drag on the floor as I make my way to the front door. I open it to see Aiden’s concerned face.
“Dude, what the fuck happened here?” He asks, glancing at the yard. “What the fuck happened to you!”
I groan and turn around, collapsing back onto the couch as Aiden lets himself in. He closes the door behind him and looks around the room, shaking his head and blowing the air out of his nose.
“Dominic,” he breathes.
“Don’t, Aiden. Please,” I say, closing my eyes and leaning back.
“This isn’t you,” he says. I open my eyes to see him sitting on the chair opposite me, studying my face as his eyebrows inch closer and closer together in consternation.
“I know,” I reply. My head is still pounding, and I can barely string two words together.
“Here,” Aiden says, walking to the kitchen and pouring a glass of water. “Drink this.”
I nod in thanks and drain the glass. I empty it in seconds, and Aiden takes the glass from my hands and fills it up again. I drink half of it and finally take a deep breath.
“Thanks,” I say. For the first time this morning, my voice comes out almost normal. Aiden sits down again and looks at me. I sigh and drop my forehead into my hands again.
“I don’t know what happened,” I say, looking at the floor. “I read that letter and then we came back and Mara was… I don’t know what she was doing.”
Aiden is silent for a few moments and I finally lift my head to look at him. He’s staring out the window, chewing his lip as he thinks.
“You really care about her,” he says after a pause.
His comment surprises me, and for a few moments I’m not sure what to say. Finally, I take a deep breath and nod. “Yeah,” I answer. “I do. I did, I mean…” I sigh. “Yeah.”
He nods and swings his eyes back toward me. “I’m not mad at you for getting involved with her,�
� he says.
My eyebrows shoot up. “No?” I ask.
Aiden chuckles. “Alright, maybe I was. But not anymore. I get it,” he says. He smiles sadly and stares out the window again. “She always had this spark, even when we were kids.”
“Look, if you don’t want me to –”
“Nah,” Aiden cuts me off, shaking his head. “I can’t ask you to stop seeing her. I can’t explain it,” he says, leaning back in his chair. I take a drink of water and wait for him to continue. “I’ve looked at the McCoys as the enemy for so long. I blamed them for so much. Reading those letters this week…”
I snort. “Seems almost anticlimactic for it to all be because of a bad breakup between Dad and Margaret.”
Aiden shakes his head and laughs softly. “I can’t imagine the two of them together. But then again, I think about all the times she was over at our place. I thought it was to bring Mara over.” Aiden looks at me, and his look pierces through me. “I thought the whole family was rotten to the core,” he says. “But after reading those letters, I’m not so sure anymore.”
“My head is all messed up,” I admit. “I’ve got no idea what the fuck to think.”
Aiden chuckles. “Same.”
I take another drink of water and lean back on the sofa, resting my head back and closing my eyes. I can feel Aiden’s gaze on me but I don’t look at him. When he speaks, his voice is softer than I’ve ever heard it before.
“This isn’t you, Dominic. That smashed up table outside, the drinking…”
I take a deep breath and look at my brother. I nod my chin down once. “I know. I couldn’t stand the thought of her with someone else.”
“What are you going to do?”
Aiden is staring at me again, and I feel like my answer to this question is important. I wish I had something to tell him. I wish I could say what he wants me to say. I don’t want to be fighting with my brothers. I don’t want to be doubting Mara. I don’t want to be drinking myself to sleep.
But as Aiden waits for me to answer, there’s only one thing that comes to my mind. I take a deep breath and shake my head.
“I don’t know,” I say.
Aiden drops his eyes and nods his head up and down. He looks out the window again and takes a deep breath.
“I thought Dad’s death was done ten years ago, but it seems to be getting more and more real every year.”
“Who do you think knows about Dad and Margaret?” I ask.
Aiden looks at me and shrugs.
“You think Tim McCoy knows?” I say in a low voice.
My brother shrugs again and we exchange a loaded look.
“The more I think about it, the more Tim and Mara did nothing wrong,” Aiden says. “All these years, I’ve blamed them all for Dad’s death and for taking the business. But now…”
“It’s all fucked up,” I say. I stand up and stretch my body. Out of the corner of my eye, I see some shards of wood through the window. I take a few steps and look outside. I glance at Aiden, who has the hint of a smile playing on his lips.
“Thought you were in the business of making furniture, not destroying it,” he says as the grin spreads across his face.
“Who the fuck knows anymore,” I answer, turning back toward the kitchen and trying to hide my grin. “Like I said, it’s all fucked up now.”
32
Mara
I haven’t slept this badly since I left California. The last bad night’s sleep I had was the night before moving back to Lang Creek. My whole body is aching as I lift myself up and get ready. I tiptoe to the kitchen and pour myself a strong cup of coffee before heading to the office.
The renovations are well underway, and even if Dominic stays on board with the job, we have a mountain of work to do in order to finish on time. I can’t think of Dominic right now, or Vincent, or anything. I just want to bury myself in work and feel something other than sadness.
I fire up my computer and start working. Soon, my bad night’s sleep is forgotten and I’m completely absorbed in my work.
I’m so focused that I don’t hear the door open behind me. It’s not until Vincent’s voice rings in my ears that my spine straightens and I spin around in my chair. He’s standing in the doorway with my mother, wearing a smug grin on his face as he watches me.
“Hard at work?” he asks. His eyebrow is raised in that arrogant smirk that I’ve always despised. I look from him to my mother and back at him.
“You’re still here?” I respond. “I don’t want to see you.”
“Mara,” my mother says, sashaying through the doorway toward me. “Don’t be like that.”
“I’m an adult, Mother. I’ll speak however I want to speak.”
Her eyebrows shoot up and she stops in her tracks. She looks taken aback by my words but recovers quickly.
“I raised you to be polite,” she chides.
“You raised me to be a doormat,” I spit. “Well, not anymore.”
“Mara!”
“Mrs. McCoy,” Vincent interjects. “Please, allow me.” He takes a step in and closes the door. The room immediately feels stuffy. Vincent’s body is blocking the doorway, and my mother is looming just beside me. I try to keep my face still but my heart is hammering against my ribcage. I’m scared.
Vincent grabs a chair and turns it toward me. He sits down and crosses one ankle over his knee as he tents his fingers under his chin. He stares at me with those beady eyes, with one side of his mouth curled up in a smirk. How I was ever attracted to him??
“Mara,” he says. I suppress a shiver. Even the way he says my name disgusts me now. “I’ve been speaking to your mother over the past few weeks.”
My eyebrows shoot up and I glance at my mother. Weeks? She ignores me.
“We’ve come to an understanding.”
“About what?” I snap. Vincent leans back in his chair and almost snarls at me. My mother flutters around and finally leans against the wall beside the door.
“About our engagement,” Vincent finally replies.
I snort. “What engagement? That was called off a couple months ago, or have you forgotten about that?”
“Mara, please,” my mother says. I swing my eyes toward her and feel the anger bubbling up inside me. Is this real life? Are they really in here, telling me to reconsider my engagement with this man?
“Mara,” Vincent says. His voice is dark and his eyes are unreadable. A chill goes down my spine and I find myself waiting for him to speak again. “If you want your little boyfriend to have any chance of being successful, you’ll be reasonable.”
My blood runs cold and I stare at him, not understanding. “What are you talking about?”
“Your mother and I have agreed to renew our business relationship. But in order to get your father to agree, we need to be a happy couple.”
“My mother and you agreed?” I start, staring at him with my mouth wide open. “Am I not a person to you?” I ask, turning to my mother. “Do I not get a say in this?”
My blood is pumping and the outrage is boiling inside me. All the resentment and betrayal I felt when my engagement fell apart is coming back to me. Vincent leans back in his chair and smirks.
“If you don’t agree, I’ll use every connection I have to make sure that your lover’s little woodworking business gets run into the ground.”
I stare at him, opening and closing my mouth as I struggle to find words. Is he threatening me? Why is he doing this?
“What are you getting out of this?”
“Well, with this hotel approved by the Park, we’ll be able to expand the brand nationwide. We don’t need another luxury hotel here, but we can have McCoy hotels in every National Park in the country.”
My heart sinks and tears start prickling my eyes.
“And if I refuse?”
“If you refuse,” Vincent replies slowly, “then your career as a designer will be over. The Clarkes will see everything they touch turn to dust.”
“You don’t h
ave that kind of power,” I spit, eyes blazing as I stare at the man I used to love.
He grins and I see nothing but evil in his face. “Try me,” he says.
My chest is hollow. I look from him to my mother. She’s staring at me, and I see nothing in her eyes. She’s completely devoid of emotion, and for the first time I see her for who she truly is.
The loving, friendly woman that she portrays is all an act. She’s nothing but a vindictive, greedy leech on this town. I blink back tears and try to swallow as my throat tightens.
I think of Dominic, and the effort that he puts into every piece of furniture he makes. I think of his workshop, impeccably clean. I think of the way that he runs his fingers over a piece of wood with something almost like reverence.
He could lose it all. His brothers could lose it all. I try to blink back tears but I can’t. They’re pouring down my cheeks as I think of the man I love losing everything he cares about.
I can’t do that to him. I can’t be the reason that once again, the Clarke brothers lose everything.
I lift my eyes to Vincent and I swallow the disgust that rises in my throat. Without a word, I nod my head down once.
With that, my fate is sealed. I’ve traded my future for Dominic’s. The tears are pouring down my cheeks and my chest feels like it’s been smashed with a sledgehammer.
As much as it hurts, I know it’s the right decision.
I’m the reason he lost his father. I’m the reason he lost his father’s business. I can’t be the reason he loses his livelihood. I brush the hot tears away from my cheeks and try to sit up straighter.
Vincent puts his hands on his knees and stands up. He looks down at me with that arrogant smirk on his lips.
“Good decision,” he says. “You’d better pack now. We leave tomorrow.”
“What!” I say, snapping my head up toward him. My mother clears her throat.
“You and Vincent will go back to Silicon Valley. I’ll manage the rest of the renovations. Vincent and I have agreed to keep Dominic’s contract in place, as a show of good faith to you.”
The Clarke Brothers (Complete Series) Page 28