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Devious Wingman: A Cocky Hero Club Novel

Page 28

by Hagen, Casey


  “Not strong enough,” I said, even as I took the bottle.

  “It’s perfect for the pineapple pizza Penn’s bringing with him in about thirty minutes. You’re going to eat it and like it. Consider it part of your punishment for pulling a dick move.”

  An olive branch.

  One I didn’t deserve. Normally, I’d take it, but for once, I wondered if doing so made me an opportunistic asshole. “I’m fucked up. What I did was—”

  “Stupid, juvenile, and fucking annoying.”

  I twisted the cap off and sucked down half the bottle. “Stealing women, how the fuck old am I?”

  “She wasn’t mine for you to steal,” he said with quiet finality.

  “At Rigby’s—”

  “Not even then,” he said with a hard shake of his head. “Since I’m reasonably confident Beetlejuice and his buddies didn’t pay you a visit, why don’t you tell me where you got this most recent makeover. Gotta tell you, it won’t go well with the new uniforms.”

  Any other time I would have laughed, but the weight of loss had such a solid hold on me, straining to the point of being in real danger of breaking in a way I couldn’t be sure if I’d make it back. All I could do was meet the eyes of the man who’d given me chances I didn’t deserve, stood by me no matter how much of a prick I’d been, and loved me like a brother through the thousands of times I’d been completely unlovable.

  I looked at him, really looked. He always relied on humor and charm in the most hopeless of moments. Like the first day I found him overpowered by six airmen ready to take him down a peg all because of jealousy.

  Even then, seconds before they were going to hand his ass to him for wearing a name he didn’t ask for, one which opened too many doors with ease—he wielded humor to soften the blow.

  Even with his nature, he had a keen sense for when a situation became so unmanageable that slapping a smile and joke on it wouldn’t work. Like now, when remnants of my falling apart turned into unease spilling over onto him, leaving a frown tugging on his mouth, his eyes narrowed and wary.

  He’d run out of reasons to stand beside me a long fucking time ago, but still, he walked right into my chaos and told me I wasn’t alone.

  “Why are you here?” I asked.

  “Because I’m more stubborn than even you.” Gripping me by the back of my neck, he forced me to look at him. “What are you fighting, man?”

  I swallowed hard and my gaze slid to the hallway. “I’ve got one thing left…and I have to let it go.”

  “She’ll come around, she just needs—”

  “Not this time. I have to let it go. Let him go. Maybe then—fuck, I don’t know—but maybe then I can find a way out.”

  “Then let’s stop talking about it and do it.”

  I nodded and took a step away. My throat burned. My knuckles turned white where I strangled the beer bottle at my side.

  Pushing past Hawk, I headed for the storage closet in the hall and reached for the lone item I kept there, a scuffed, black toolbox, the only thing my father ever gave me.

  Maybe I had two things to let go of after all.

  A throbbing ache took hold in my jaw with how tight I clenched my teeth. My head pounded, the piercing stab lodging behind my eyes.

  I hauled it back to my table and dropped it on a chair. Flipping the latch, I threw open the lid. I fought the urge to flinch as bile slid up my throat and the familiar stains stared back at me.

  “Fucking hell, is that—”

  “Blood.” One word—heavy with grief, pulsing with leftover guilt.

  I spread out the T-shirt on my table and followed with the jeans. The last physical thread I’d refused to let go of from the night Ethan died.

  I closed my eyes and cruised right past the memory of the funeral I’d relied on to keep me in check and resurrected the night itself—the one I’d been afraid to look at.

  Surrendering to it, I let the images wash over me, pummeling me with everything they had.

  Words bubbled up, one more confession I didn’t think I had in me. “I’m the one who found him. I was the first one to check his pulse. The first one to scream his name. The first one to try to pull him out.” Tears burned behind my eyelids, but this time I didn’t fight them. I didn’t battle for control.

  “You see accidents in the movies,” I went on. “But until you’re there to see the twisted metal, to smell the acrid smoke, the chemical sting of fluids filling the air, the blood—you can’t know the details they miss.”

  I stared down at the clothes, the last thing I wore when Ethan and Emory were both alive and within reach.

  “I was the one to hear his last breath.”

  Hawk cleared his throat, the sound so much like the grating of jagged memories over exposed nerves.

  “I witnessed so much in his last breath. I watched his dreams die. I saw his family fracture under the weight of pain. And before I even really knew someone could be the love of your life—I watched his sister’s heart shatter.”

  I curled my fists, resisting the urge to reach out to touch the shirt.

  “He didn’t exhale,” I whispered into the quiet room. “He inhaled—like he had one last fight in him—and the silence he left behind…I didn’t know silence could be so loud.”

  I opened my gritty eyes and found this guy I didn’t deserve, my mirror image of anguish looking back at me. As much as I struggled with the idea of being worthy of him, relief flooded me at his unwavering support while I stared down that night for the last time.

  “You keep holding on to proof you should be alone, but where has being alone gotten you?” Hawk asked quietly.

  I stared back at the clothes I’d refused to let go. And for what? Holding them tight meant pushing everything else away. I couldn’t have both, so why was I choosing the dead over the living?

  Retribution?

  Absolution like Emory said?

  Or had I held them close as punishment for a sin so much greater than any of my father’s?

  Only a sin with one key difference.

  Intent.

  My father had been all calculation and cruelty.

  I’d been young, stupid, and lacked foresight.

  He’d never once felt the weight of his sins.

  I hadn’t stopped punishing myself for mine.

  The absence of her sent a shudder through me with the power to reach right back in time and straddle two worlds—shaking the boy I’d been and the man I was today right to the bone.

  “I don’t recognize the world anymore,” I said, my tongue thick in my mouth, my throat dry.

  Hawk shook his head, took a step closer, his arm aligning with mine. No more than that.

  Just that.

  “It’s not the world changing, it’s you,” he said.

  And again, the silence left behind was so loud.

  Louder than that long-ago night.

  The sound breaking the silence of a young boy I’d held on to for so long—a boy I’d used as a shield against pain and as a reason to run—as he exhaled…and let go.

  Roadblocks fell away.

  The maze of my life opened into clever pathways, this time, some of them not leading to dead ends.

  Light returned, not to solve all the questions of life, but giving me the tools to see a way through.

  The knock at the still-open door made us both jump.

  Penn stepped in and whistled low. He glanced at the toppled chair from when Hawk punched me, the blood-stained clothes on the table, before stopping at my haggard face.

  “Seems like kind of a heavy moment for pineapple,” he said, gesturing with the pizza balancing on his hand.

  Hawk and I glanced at each other, and I managed a gritty laugh.

  The couple key parts of me that had tilted off my axis shifted back to where they belonged, but this time, more solid and resolute.

  And the light…with it I recognized the parts of me still hollowed out and for once, I thought I might know what I needed to do to fill the
m back up again.

  I needed to go home.

  28

  I loved these people to the ends of the earth, but I had to go home. I’d been at Graham and Soraya’s for a week now, and while they had a killer view of the sunrise in Manhattan, I missed my sanctuary.

  I really missed not having people around every corner asking me if I was okay, if I needed anything, if I was hungry, or even if I wanted to commit a murder.

  I was reasonably sure the last was a joke.

  As long as I didn’t look Graham in the eye when he said it.

  Because the man looked positively ready to hide the body for me and Soraya wasn’t much better.

  They gave me a soft place to land when I told myself I didn’t need one. We spent our days finalizing every bit of swag and branding I needed for Forever Begins Here. We filed for the business license after Graham’s attorney assured us Vera didn’t have a leg to stand on if I branched out on my own. And finally, we submitted the LLC paperwork and signed a partnership agreement between the two of us.

  We also got a call from Dustin and Sierra who were ecstatic to offer me preferred vendor status. They even went so far as to ask me to fly out to in about a month, right in time to catch peak foliage and explore the possibilities as the landscape shifted between seasons.

  I had mixed feelings about going. Not that I’d turn it down… I wasn’t nuts. They were paying me for my time spent there, and the rustic hideaway would always have a special place in my heart.

  What remained of it.

  When you finally gave yourself to a man you’d loved half of your life, a man who all but begged you to open up, and it wasn’t enough, what the hell did you do with it?

  A hundred times over I second-guessed my decision to walk away.

  A hundred times over I reminded myself of the mountain of reasons why it was the right thing to do.

  I left him bleeding.

  But he didn’t bleed alone.

  “There you are,” Graham said, stepping out onto the balcony. “Good morning.” He kissed me on the cheek before taking the seat next to me.

  “Good morning,” I murmured. “Where’s Soraya?”

  He laughed and leaned forward, propping his elbows on his knees. “She’s on cleaning duty. Lorenzo found her lipstick. The bathroom may never be the same.”

  “Oh God.”

  “Yeah, but the boy’s drawing skills are on point,” he said with a note of pride in his smooth, deep voice. “Actually, it gives me a few minutes to chat with you in private.”

  “I really am okay. You guys can stop worrying.”

  “I’m starting to get that, which is why I have mixed feelings about bringing this up in the first place…”

  I shot him a glance from the corner of my eye. “Graham, you’ve never been one to hold back. Don’t start now.”

  “True, but you’re family. And since you are…you should know, I had words with Falcon in Arizona.”

  I snorted. “And you were the voice of reason, right?”

  “You’re adorable, but no.” He met my eye, his smile slipping into the serious look I imagined he used when the time came to activate his ruthless side in business. “I told him I’d destroy him if he hurt you.”

  “Dammit, Graham—”

  He raised his hand. “You should also know I didn’t follow through. I won’t say I didn’t make a few attempts.”

  I glanced out over the city, but saw Falcon’s back to me, his shoulders sagged in defeat. “You can’t do anything worse to him than he’s doing to himself. He hurt me, yes. But I hurt him too.”

  “I tried to get out of the contract. I didn’t try hard. I called Hawk. I gave him a choice, keep the contract with me or keep Falcon.”

  My lips twitched and I glanced at Graham out of the corner of my eye. “How did the ultimatum work out for you?”

  Graham let out a gruff laugh. “He told me right where I could shove my contract, and if I was bad at navigation, he’d draw me explicit instructions.”

  I shrugged, gripping onto the veneer of “I’m fine” I’d been clinging to for the better part of the week so Graham wouldn’t know just how I much clung to ever detail he offered. “They’re a brotherhood. I could have told you it probably wasn’t going to go well. Plus, you know, there are those pesky labor laws and all Hawk has to abide by.”

  “Well, that’s where it gets interesting. I know you guys said Falcon works for Hawk, but he doesn’t. He really is a partner.”

  The hairs on my neck tingled. “Hawk called it a technicality.”

  “Yes, the night at Rigby’s, technically Falcon was still an employee. By the next day, he was signing partnership papers. Only hours after Hawk found out I was having a slew of background checks done on him, the business, and his associates.”

  “What are you getting at?”

  “I don’t think Falcon ever had any intention of walking away from you again. At the time he signed the papers, he knew what becoming a partner could mean. He had to know he would likely have to come clean eventually.”

  My skin grew hot and my heart raced. “Why are you telling me this?”

  “I know how it feels to have the person you love take away your choice. You get the gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach, but you can’t figure out what’s wrong. I don’t think Falcon ever really had one foot out of your relationship. I think he was trying to figure out how to get both feet in.”

  “I can’t fight his demons for him,” I whispered.

  “No, you can’t, but I think he has every intention of fighting them himself. The look in his eye, the way he watches you with a sense of wonder—of peace. I’m not saying to try to fight his battles for him; I’m not even saying to put your life on hold.” Graham blew out a breath and looked out over the city before glancing back at me. “I guess what I’m saying is be open to the possibility of him walking back in. I think when he does, he’ll be ready. The guy you love, who loves you, has been fighting with a ghost. That’s some stiff competition.”

  When he does? More like if. I narrowed my eyes at the man. “Just how much investigating did you do?”

  His lips twitched. “Enough.”

  “Oh my God, we need you!” Soraya said, busting through the door in a black silk robe, her cell phone pressed to her breast, holding Lorenzo who grinned down at us with red lipstick ground into his eyebrows.

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Casper and Cole’s wedding just crumbled to shi—dust,” Soraya said with a side-glance at Lorenzo who hadn’t taken his inquisitive little gaze off of her. “The dresses were one thing, but it’s like dominoes now. The caterer’s license is now suspended because of some health violation; the venue seems to think they’re double-booked with another wedding, and the wedding planner is officially MIA.”

  “Okay, one thing at a time,” I said, grabbing my phone and opening my notes app.

  “Casper’s in tears. Cole had to take over the call. Help!” Soraya handed Lorenzo to Graham.

  Hysterical wails came from the other end of the line, the frantic sound of a bride on the verge of losing her mind—and maybe taking a small town of innocent bystanders with her when she went off the deep end.

  A bride pregnant with twins who almost died too recently for comfort.

  “Hang on, Casper. I know, honey. I know. I’m with Emory right now. Give me a sec.”

  “I need a list,” I said as I made notes about what had already gone wrong. “Phone numbers and addresses for the wedding party, immediate family members, and all the vendors, even the MIA ones. I’ll handle the rest.”

  “Aww, honey, don’t cry. This isn’t a sign. This is life. It’s messy,” Soraya said, giving me a frantic look as Casper wailed in her ear.

  “When’s the wedding?”

  “Two weeks from this coming Saturday,” Graham said bouncing his son on his knee, but keeping a tight focus on the situation unfolding judging by the perceptive gleam in his eyes.

  “Get the infor
mation and give me a couple of days and I’ll get this back on track,” I said.

  “Casper asked what she should do,” Soraya said.

  “She needs to put her feet up and leave this all to me. She’s going to have the perfect wedding.”

  “She asked if you’re sure.”

  “Give me that phone,” I said, wiggling my open hand at her while I typed notes with one hand.

  Soraya handed it over with a look of relief sliding over her face.

  “Casper? Hey, it’s Emory.”

  “Please tell me it’s not the end of the world, because right now, it feels like the end of the world,” Casper said with a familiar hint of desperation I’d heard with hundreds of brides tinging her voice.

  “This is life. Sometimes it doesn’t care and it keeps on coming anyway. But you’ve got two little lives depending on you to do what’s best for them first and that means you need to take care of yourself and hand this to me. Listen, honey, I’ve had a bride’s updo catch on fire an hour before the ceremony. Burned six inches clean off her head and no one ever knew. I can recover this wedding. I promise you, I’ve got this.”

  “Thank you, thank you, thank you,” Casper gasped over the line.

  “Off the top of your head, what was the budget you were working with and how close were you to the top?”

  “No budget,” Casper said way too eagerly.

  “Okay, do me a favor; don’t ever tell anyone that again,” I said with a laugh. “I won’t take advantage, but others will. I’m going to take it as we’re fluid. Soraya has a list of info she’s going to get from you, and you’re going to rest and let me handle all of it, understood?”

  The only answer she gave me was the sound of her bursting into tears on the other end of the line. “I think she wants to talk to you,” I said, handing the phone to Soraya.

  My blood surged and my cheeks warmed. I smiled, grasping on to the one thing I knew I could control and bend to my will.

  Standing up, I took Graham’s hand and gave it a squeeze as I bent down to kiss him on the cheek. “I love you. Thank you for having my back.”

 

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