Romeo (Payne Brothers Romance Book 6)

by Sosie Frost

  “I want you to have someone better than me,” I said.

  “That’s not what I asked.”

  “You think I want to hurt you?” My temper flared. “For Christ’s sake, Lady, figure it out. Ask me again. Keep rolling the dice until you get the answer that will make you hate me. Then maybe you can walk away too.”

  Lady always looked lovely, even when her heart was breaking.

  She held herself tight, crossing her arms low over her belly. Her expression twisted, and, within a few fragile heartbeats, I knew I had lost the only good thing that had ever happened to me.

  Her voice nearly shattered with softness. “I can’t believe I was so selfish.”

  What the hell was she doing to me?

  “You’re not selfish.”

  She covered her face. “Oh, I absolutely am. I’m a selfish, naïve idiot. I didn’t see it until now.” She stared at me, through me, as if she suddenly didn’t even recognize me. “It was never about falling in love, Quint. I’d only ever wanted to be loved.”

  She plunked onto the bench and stared out into Butterpond.

  I didn’t dare sit beside her, but I couldn’t move my damned feet.

  “I lived a total fantasy,” she said. “And at its center was you. All that mattered was how you felt about me. I wanted to be your entire world.”

  And she was.

  And she would be. Forever.

  “I wanted you to take me at night, stay with me through morning, and then share with me the rest of always.” Her voice hollowed. “But I never saw you, Quint. I never actually thought of you as someone real. It was always an illusion. An invention of my own crush. And I’m sorry. That was wrong of me. How could I have ever fallen for someone who didn’t actually exist?”

  The answer was simple.

  I hadn’t existed until she kissed the real me into reality.

  “You asked me why I left Butterpond? It was to start a life away from you. But even that was just…cowardly. I should’ve stood up for myself. Realized the truth of my feelings.”

  “Which were?” I asked.

  “Nothing but vanity.”

  It wasn’t fair to her, but I stayed quiet. Didn’t yell. Didn’t fight. Didn’t tell her how fucking wrong she was.

  Because she needed to be wrong. Lady had to hurt.

  It was the only way she’d stay away.

  “I was naïve,” she said. “But I’m glad you showed me the truth. Maybe it’s a little too late, and maybe I’ve ruined my entire life, but at least I know what to expect from here on out. And I can do it on my own. I’ll be fine alone.”

  Lady stood, but she refused to look at me. I couldn’t blame her. I’d never be able to stare at the man in the mirror again.

  “I wanted you to love me.” Her words wavered with tears. “But you’re a waste of a broken heart, Quint Payne.”

  Lady stormed away into the darkness, heading back to the church.

  I didn’t know what possessed me to follow. Why I wanted to stay so close to her. Why I couldn’t just let her go.

  But I needed that last moment. One final heartbeat before it was all over.

  She opened the doors to the chapel.

  Chaos spilled into the night. The pageant ran rampant.

  But the mayoral debates had dissolved into shouting matches between residents as the preschoolers screamed their songs. Councilmember pounded on their gavels. Sherriff Samson had run out of handcuffs.

  “The Paynes are a menace!” One voice yelled.

  The man he held in a headlock shouted a reply. “It’s the Barlows who think they own the whole town!”

  “See what they’ve done to this church!” A third pleaded to the Heavens.

  Another yelled back. “And look how they saved this congregation!”

  “They’re miscreants!”

  “They’re good people!”

  “They’re nothing but trouble!”

  “They keep this town alive!”

  A skein of yarn soared across the church.

  Then a scarf.

  Within seconds, the knitting clubs had once again dissolved.

  Accusations shouted. A preliminary charge roared from a band of Nick’s N’Actors, colliding with a group of men proudly declaring their support of the Barlows. The church women dissolved into slap fights and hair pulling. The town had gone mad. Brother against brother. Club against club. Even the kids on stage began to cry, tattling on Mellie as the little girl had once again consumed the forbidden fruit.

  The Barlows lashed out. Regent, Contessa, and Duchess shouted at their brothers, gathered their purses, and attempted to escape the church only to get swallowed in a sudden, spontaneous protest by members of the historical society, preaching the sanctity of sobriety to the congregation via homemade signs and good, old fashioned scorn.

  But over the din of absolute chaos, Lady whistled between two fingers.

  The sharp echo sliced through the church.

  Everyone went still.

  Lady stepped forward into the sanctuary.

  “I support Marius Payne for Mayor!”

  She wouldn’t need to whistle again. Her declaration shocked everyone.

  Lady called out again, her voice just as confident as before.

  “I think he’s good for Butterpond,” she said. “And I think this town will be better with a Payne in charge.”

  Duke stood, but Lady’s sisters throttled him with a swipe of their purses.

  Butterpond was bizarre, but it wasn’t stupid. Nobody was foolish enough to speak while Lady Barlow stared at them with a steeled gaze.

  “Marius ran for mayor when nobody else would stand up to Desmond,” she said. “And Marius doesn’t care about the stupid politics that have sown hatred and division in our town. He doesn’t even want the job. That’s good. I understand that. No one wants to be the person who must stand up and act responsible. But someone has to convince everyone else that sometimes, it’s not worth all the fighting and insults and immaturity.”

  The town collectively lowered their fists.

  Lady continued. “Butterpond is hurting right now. No one is happy. Everyone hates someone else. And it’s only getting worse.” She pointed toward Marius. “Well, as long as he’s volunteering to try to bring us together, then I give him my support. This town is better than all this petty bickering and hostility. It’s time we start acting like a real community.”

  She took a breath.

  “And that’s why this Barlow is voting for that Payne. And that’s why all the rest of you should as well.”

  Lady didn’t bother staying to watch as the stunned silence faded and every person in every pew dove over each other—extending handshakes and hugs, apologies and long-overdue praise.

  I watched in shock as an entire summer’s worth of planning and stress suddenly evaporated from one very public declaration.

  What the hell had she done?

  Why the fuck did she still care?

  Why wouldn’t this woman just let me break her heart?

  17

  Quint

  I needed an escape.

  It was the first time I went to work on the farm instead of slinking around Ironfield to find distraction in a bottle of beer and a girl who didn’t care if I remembered her name.

  So, this was loneliness?

  I deserved every last heartbeat of soul-crushing monotony. After all, it’s what I’d wanted for so long. A life where everything stayed the same—no real path, no future, no difference between one day and the next. I lived only for the moment.

  And that moment would torture me for the rest of my life.

  I’d had a chance to escape it. I blew it. But instead of retreating to my own vain pleasures for a sense of relief, I labored all afternoon and evening in the dirt. Didn’t get laid. Didn’t get drunk. Just punished myself with sweat and sore muscles.

  Thought it would make me feel better. More like a man. Like someone who understood his role in this world and his responsibili
ties.

  That was a joke.

  All it’d earned me was a throbbing headache and shaking hands. I hadn’t eaten enough. Nothing had tasted good, and I figured I was better off eating the dust in the fields than cramming anything down my throat.

  But rules were rules. Blood sugar was blood sugar. And schedules were fucking schedules. No matter how I longed to ignore that part of my reality, an empty stomach just meant a crash was inevitable. I didn’t need to get sick.

  At some point, a man had to take care of himself. I’d hold out until that moment when I couldn’t get any worse.

  But it was coming. Soon.

  I used to seek comfort in the arms of strangers. Was it too late to realize how stupid I’d been? I’d never found relief. Never had any peace. I’d only wasted my body. My pride.

  All that time I spent chasing skirts I might’ve followed that one woman who had actually helped me feel good.

  All summer I’d worried about what would happen in my future.

  Now I hated myself for what I’d lost.

  The porch steps no longer creaked. Jules and I had replaced them last month. The fresh coat of white paint had rejuvenated the farmhouse, and the brand-new neighboring barn modernized the property. We had corn in the fields. Equipment painstakingly maintained and stored in the refurbished sheds. It’d taken weeks, but we’d weeded the paths, laid new fences for the pasture, and scrubbed every last surface of rust and grime.

  The farm looked beautiful.

  At least we’d get a decent price for it. More than we would’ve earned even a year ago, when no one in the family cared about the land. When we’d been too chicken shit to admit that that our real worry was what might happen if the farm succeeded and we were all happy.

  Gave me a good reason to do all I could to protect it.

  And a better reason for my family to never understand why I did it.

  They waited for me in the kitchen. I’d expected it. Didn’t stop me from crashing through the door, kicking my muddy boots into the corner, and ignoring their stares as I rummaged through the fridge.

  Julian and Marius claimed the table. Tidus and Cassi patrolled the kitchen doorways, blocking me from escaping into the hall. Varius, as usual, was the first to welcome me into what would inevitably prove to be a worthless conversation guaranteed to irritate the shit out of all of us.

  This had played out before, though usually I sat on the other side of the table, talking sense into my idiot brothers who’d been so hell bent on ruining their lives that they couldn’t see how fucking good they had it.

  This wouldn’t be fun.

  And I’d need a hell of a lot more than some cold chicken and a heaping container of leftover macaroni salad to make it through the conversation.

  They’d watched it before, but I never liked an audience when I dosed myself with insulin. I jabbed the pen into my abs—loathing the little tick tick tick as the medication seeped into my skin. The ten seconds I waited after I hit the plunger seemed an eternity. I ripped the pen away, pitched the needle into the special container reserved just for me and my condition, and fixed my dinner.

  I didn’t bother with a plate. Cassi offered me a clean spoon from the silverware drawer, but I simply bit the chicken and grabbed a fork from the sink, wiping it on my jeans before digging in.

  They stayed silent as I gagged.

  “Hope you don’t expect me to share.” I spat the pasta into the sink. “Mayo’s not supposed to get chunky.”

  Julian kicked a chair out at the table. “Sit.”

  I declined his offer with a mouthful of chicken. “I got more work out in the barn.”

  “You’ve got work to do here.” Cassi ripped my dinner out of my mouth and plunked it onto a plate. She tossed it into the microwave after scavenging the fridge for last night’s mashed potatoes. Then she began work on a salad. “Sit and eat. We wanna talk to you.”

  Like I didn’t know what they planned to say.

  I snorted. “Quint, why aren’t you taking better care of yourself. When was the last time you checked your blood sugar? Are you getting enough to eat? Are you eating too much? Did you forget your insulin again? Are you feeling okay? Why don’t you take it more seriously?”

  Cassi smacked the back of my head. “Keep being an ass and one day we might not give a damn.”

  My brothers? Maybe.

  Her? Not a chance.

  Still, she looked pissed.

  I shrugged. “What do you want?”

  “I want you to start acting like a responsible adult.” She reached into her pocket and tossed a handful of my replacement, plastic-sealed needles onto the table. The little green cones spiraled into the salt cellar. “I found Tabby playing with these earlier today.”

  Damn it.

  “I left the package out today,” I said. “Sorry.”

  “Sorry?” Cassi picked one up only to bounce it off my forehead. “She could’ve been hurt.”

  “They’re brand new and sealed.”

  “They were in her mouth.”

  “Oh.”

  “Right,” Cassi said. “Oh.”

  “I was in a hurry. I’ll make sure I clean up when I’m done.”

  “That’s not the point, Quint.”

  Jules agreed. “Found a case of your insulin lost between the fridge and the counter the other day. Ruined all the pens.”

  “Expensive mistake,” I said.

  “That you didn’t realize.”

  “Would’ve figured it out eventually.”

  Marius laughed. “Yeah, right about the time we’d be stepping over your corpse in the living room.”

  “Just make sure I’m wearing pants.” I gestured over my body. “Not that I’m ashamed, but I got enough self-respect to not give it away for free.”

  Varius had an amazing ability to suck the air out of the room. “Quint, you know why we’re here. Isn’t it time we had a talk about all this?”

  They could talk all they wanted.

  Didn’t mean I had to listen.

  “I’m not in the mood right now,” I said.

  Tidus grabbed a chair at the table and spun it, sitting backwards so he could lean close just to piss me off.

  “Then you better lube up, big boy,” he said. “Or else we’re going in dry.”

  Varius cast a disapproving glance toward our brother. It’d never worked on him while V stood behind the pulpit. It’d be less useful in our kitchen.

  “We’re worried about you,” he said. “You haven’t been taking care of yourself.”

  I wagged a finger. “Aha. That’s not true. I’ve never taken care of myself.”

  “Yeah, but this time it’s worse than usual.” Marius was a man of limited patience and few words. What he couldn’t intimidate with a stare, he’d grind out with his fists. Fortunately, he’d lost a step—literally and figuratively—when they’d amputated his leg. I could outrun him. “I get it. You hate your body.”

  “This an intervention or an article from Cosmo Girl?”

  “It’s your lot in life,” he said. “Can’t change a motherfucking thing about it, so stop fighting. Take your meds. Eat the right food. Live to see another day. It’s not fucking hard, you’re just acting like a little bitch.”

  I resented how right he was.

  “I never said it was hard.” I pushed passed Cassi and faced a microwave almost as old as the farmhouse. I wrenched the handle, nearly pulling it off. My food was only barely warm, but the potatoes had lost their glue-ish quality. Good enough for me. “And I never asked for any help.”

  “Maybe you should.” Cassi jabbed me with a carrot. I was just grateful she hadn’t come after me with the peeler.

  “I got it under control.”

  Julian stared at me. “You sure?”

  I should’ve told him to drop it, but last week, Jules had run to the house to fetch me an emergency can of Pepsi when my sugar had crashed in the barn. Not much I could hide from the brother who had caught me before I bashed my head
against the floorboards.

  “It’s fine,” I said. “Just got my mind on other shit now.”

  Julian smirked. “Never took you for the thinking type.”

  “Usually just cycle through the same three thoughts: food, pussy, shots—both insulin and whiskey.”

  Cassi’s preferred punishment came in the form of a tossed salad. She dropped the bowl in front of me with a scowl.

  “We promised we wouldn’t drink now that Tidus is sober,” she said.

  Tidus picked the cherry tomato out of my bowl and narrowly missed getting stabbed with my fork.

  “Don’t encourage him to make better choices on my behalf,” Tidus said. “Last thing I want is someone bettering their life cause of little ol’ me.”

  “My life is fine,” I said.

  Tidus eyed me. “Full of vice?”

  “The worst kinds.”

  “Taught you well.”

  Varius crossed his arms. “Hopefully not too well.”

  “I got no complaints,” I lied.

  Marius saw through me. “Who you trying to convince? Your life is shit. Question is—why the fuck are you making it that way? What’s wrong with you?”

  I popped out of the seat and handed the salad to Cassi. Just to make her happy, I grabbed the bottle of water and not the can of soda in the fridge. I chugged it, but it didn’t cool me down. The Payne family had a time-honored tradition of irritating the piss out of one and other. Tonight was no different.

  I glanced at my brothers. We didn’t have a lot in common. We shared Mom’s green eyes, and we all had Dad’s temper—though Tidus and Cassi had to learn by example. We’d never once worked well together before, not since high school when we last jumped Duke or Marquis Barlow.

  All this camaraderie was new. Not unwelcomed—especially when it wasn’t directed at my expense. But it was something we hadn’t practiced before. Something we still had to figure out.

  We loved each other, even if we didn’t know why.

  We took care of each other, even when most of us refused to help ourselves.

  And despite the parents we had buried or the secrets we’d uncovered, we’d stuck together. Through the barn fire and the damned farm reconstruction, catastrophic injuries, and heart-breaking depressions, addictions and paternity revelations. We’d managed to overcome it all.