by Lauren Smith
“It was Lewis. He shot Abrams, and he died at the foot of the stairs. He’d gotten his arms around me and was going to finish me off, but Lewis put a bullet in him. I fell and hit my head.” He ran his hand over the back of his head where the scar was concealed. It twinged at the mere memory of that old pain. “Lewis picked me up and we ran. Everything was so fuzzy after that and I was so young…I just couldn’t remember.” In that moment Fenn truly hated himself. He loved his family. Why hadn’t that love been enough to help him remember all those years ago?
“Lewis raised you?” Emery sounded surprised.
“He wasn’t all bad. I believe he really didn’t know the plan was to kill us. And maybe he was too scared to turn me over to the police. He would have been arrested for having played a part in our kidnapping.” He couldn’t stop shaking. His hands trembled and his legs felt a little weak as adrenaline ran its course through his body.
“I wish you’d made it outside with me,” Emery said quietly.
All around them the house settled into the shadows, and the sunset’s red glow washed the pale walls like blood.
“Who owns this place?” Fenn asked.
“I don’t know,” Emery admitted.
“I want you to buy this place and level it,” Fenn said. He didn’t want to ask Emery for any money. “I’ll repay you.”
His brother stared at him as if he’d gone crazy. “Fenn, you understand that now that you’re back, you’re entitled to your share of Dad’s company. You’re rich now.”
Rich? The word held so little meaning to him that he laughed darkly.
“That doesn’t matter to me.”
“You could easily save the Taylor ranch. Wes told me it needed financial assistance.” Emery met his gaze. “We can start the paperwork tomorrow and get the ranch taken care of immediately. Wes said it was one of the conditions of your return. It’s easy enough to pay off the mortgage.”
Fenn wanted to laugh at it all. A mountainous debt on the Broken Spur was an easy matter to settle here. He didn’t immediately speak. Instead, he knelt and picked up a piece of the shattered mirror. The reflective glass crunched beneath his boots as he crouched. His face danced from splinter to splinter—a hundred angles, a hundred reflections. In that moment he felt just as shattered and confused. He’d thought—hoped—feeling this way would vanish once he’d come home, but it hadn’t. He was still as disoriented as when he’d first arrived. Only this time he was not alone; his brother was here. He rose, still clutching a shard of the mirror. He would keep it, a reminder of what he’d survived. It was time he accepted his role in all of this. If he had money, then why not use it for what mattered to him?
“Can you have Wes work on that first thing tomorrow? I want the mortgage fully paid off. If I have enough money for that, then that’s what I want to do.”
Emery patted his back once. “You have more than enough for that. Trust me.”
“Good.” He took one more sweeping glance at the crumbling, decaying structure that had lurked at the edges of his nightmares for so many years and shook his head.
“Let’s go.” He was done with being afraid, done with letting the past control him. He wasn’t a frightened little boy anymore.
No.
He was a very angry man. Whoever was responsible for stealing his life, for destroying his brother’s life and his parents’ peace, they would pay. That was a promise.
* * *
Hayden clenched her fists as her brother pulled his sleek Hennessey Venom GT through the entranceway to the Thorne family estate. The five-hundred acre property held two houses: her parents’ French chateau and Hayden’s small cottage a quarter of a mile away. The main drive was bordered by red cedars, lending the passageway to the house an almost fairytale feel, as if one was traversing through an enchanted forest’s forgotten path. The trees parted and tapered to open onto a huge cobblestoned courtyard. Wes’s car rumbled over the road as he pulled up in front of the main house.
With a sigh, Hayden turned her gaze away from the chateau’s peaked rooftops and stared out across the gardens, wishing she could escape into them. The last place she wanted to be was near her parents.
The setting sun reflected off the two large pools dotted with lily pads. She loved this place, but being here when her parents were home was a reminder of how gilded her cage was. Why couldn’t they go away to Europe? Spend half a year in that Italian villa they’d bought and leave her alone?
Wes turned off the Venom and covered her left hand with his.
“You can’t tell anyone about Fenn.”
“Why not?”
“Emery wants to release the news in a few days, when he’s had time to plan everything. If word gets out before he’s ready it could put all of us, but especially him and Fenn, in danger. Do you understand?”
Hayden swallowed the irritated retort on her lips. Wes sometimes treated her like she was an idiot. She could easily keep silent if she knew it was for a valid reason. This wasn’t the hard part of the concept to grasp. What concerned her was dealing with their parents.
“Yes, I understand.” She sighed and stepped out of the car. Her arm twinged sharply and she winced, touching the injured spot where her stitches were concealed by her blouse.
“We’ll have to think of some excuse to explain your injuries,” Wes observed.
“They’ll know we took the jet to Colorado.” She leaned over toward her brother in the car window, resting her elbows on the open frame.
He frowned, silent for a moment before he climbed out of the car and retrieved her bag from the trunk.
“Tell them you met someone and flew there to have a weekend fling. You went rock climbing and fell. It would explain the bruises and stitches.”
“Seriously? If I told them that you know how they’d react.”
His sad smile confirmed her fears. “It’s just for a day or two. Then we’ll be able to tell them everything. Do you want me to go in with you?” He rolled her suitcase to the front door and waited for her to join him.
“No, it’s fine. You can go home. But call me tomorrow. Give Fenn my cell number. Actually, give him a cell phone. I don’t think he even has one. Tell him to call me.”
“You really like him, don’t you?” Wes asked.
She was tempted to lie, but with Wes she never succeeded. Siblings were like that sometimes; they could read into every little nuance, every look and gesture. She was an open book to her older brother.
“I do. I know it’s crazy. I know it’s a bad idea…but there’s something about him. I don’t believe in love at first sight. Really.” She paused a brief second to shake her head in disbelief. “But I can’t deny that from the first moment, when he looked at me after I’d saved him in the arena, it’s like something inside me clicked into place. I don’t know if that makes any sense.” She laughed at herself. It sounded crazy trying to explain something that had changed her on a fundamental level, but it was the truth. Fenn had changed her. She couldn’t go back to who she’d been before, not after knowing him and being with him.
Her brother’s expression was impossible to read. “I think I get it,” he replied. “You can’t get him out of your head, you want to know every thought in his head, want to be close to him even if you can’t be with him.” He pulled her into a hug. “Be careful with him and yourself. I don’t want to see either of you get hurt. Call me if you need anything.”
He left her alone at the door and she pressed the doorbell, waiting to fight the coming storm she knew would be her parents.
One of the maids answered—a young woman she knew, one close to her own age.
“Hey Jordan,” she greeted in a low whisper. Her parents didn’t like it when she befriended the help.
“Hayden!” Jordan grinned. She wore the obligatory black dress and her dark hair was pulled up into a bun, but she still managed to look attractive. Hayden always admired that about her.
“Your parents are really upset,” she warned as Hayden came into
the house with her suitcase.
“I figured they’d be mad.” Hayden’s belly flipped a few times with nerves. Dealing with her parents always put her on edge. It was a little like a recurring nightmare where she was in school and unprepared for a test. Only this wasn’t a dream.
“Jordan? Who is it?” Her mother’s cultured voice echoed from the rafters of the main entryway just before she appeared at the top of the stairs.
“Hayden. You’re back.” Her mother’s disapproval made her name sound heavy on the older woman’s lips.
Hayden’s mother Silvia was beautiful. Poised and polished, she never had a hair out of place or a button undone. The cold clinical way she surveyed Hayden made her repress a shudder. They were so alike, with their red hair and full figures, but on the inside they couldn’t have been more different.
“Hello, Mother,” she said in greeting.
Jordan beat a hasty retreat, likely expecting a display of verbal fireworks.
“Your father and I are very disappointed. You took the jet and told no one where you went.”
“I had my cell; you didn’t call me.” Hayden was sick of cowering, sick of being bullied by her mother. Why were they so impossible to please? More than once she’d gotten on her knees and prayed the Lockwoods would be her parents. They were so natural, so kind, so real. They had fought to earn their wealth and valued everything it had given them. The Thornes were old money and it had gone to their heads.
“We shouldn’t have to call you and track you down. You aren’t a wayward teenager anymore. This kind of behavior is not acceptable.”
Hayden gave a most un-ladylike snort. “If I’m not a teenager, then where I’ve been the last few days doesn’t matter. I’m twenty-four years old.”
Her mother’s lips curled into a sneer. “And what have you done with your life?” She descended the stairs, trailing a manicured fingertip along the shiny wooden banister.
“I got an MBA, that’s what. And if Father would remove his order to not hire me to all of his friends, I might actually get a job.”
“A job? Hayden, how many times have I told you that you don’t need a job? You need to focus on your life here. There are plenty of eligible men looking for a wife. You could be the toast of the island if you just—”
“Sold my soul?” Hayden snapped. “No. I’m done with it. No more dates with Father’s golfing buddies, no more fundraisers, no more parties. I’m done. In fact, I’m moving out.” Her heart was pounding as her mother froze at the foot of the stairs, an expression of shock and outrage twisting her features.
This wasn’t what she had planned or wanted, but it was happening and she was not going to back down.
“Keep this up and your father will take away your trust.”
“You think I care about that?” It was the truth. It wouldn’t be fun to leave the easy income behind, but she could do it if it meant her freedom.
“You’ve never earned anything in your life. You wouldn’t last five minutes on your own.” Her mother’s warning was almost gleeful. Why did her own mother want to hurt her? She’d never understood what it was she’d done or failed to do that had set her parents against her.
Hayden bristled. “I’m leaving now. I should have left at eighteen, but now’s better than later. I’ll send someone to collect my things tomorrow.” She spun on her heel and marched right back out the front door. She didn’t look back even once as the door closed behind her.
She was never more thankful she was still in her cowboy boots, because the long walk down the cobblestone drive would have killed her in heels. Fishing her cell out of her purse, she dialed Sophie. Her friend answered on the second ring.
“I was wondering when you’d call.” Sophie’s voice was a little soft, as though she was tired.
“Did I wake you up?” Hayden asked.
“Nope. I was thinking of going to sleep early tonight. Emery and Fenn are coming back soon for dinner and I’m supposed to rest after we eat.”
“I’m sorry I didn’t call right away after the attack.”
Her friend chuckled. “Don’t worry about it. You were busy saving Fenn, or so I heard.”
Hayden laughed. “Sort of. Yeah. Did you meet him?”
“Yes!” Sophie giggled. “He’s gorgeous, just like his brother. But they’re so different. Aren’t twins interesting?”
“Definitely,” she agreed. “Can I ask you a favor?”
“Of course.” Her friend didn’t hesitate.
“So I left my parents’ place. Is there any way I can stay with you? Do you think Emery would mind?”
Sophie paused. “I know he wouldn’t mind normally, but he’s very worried about everything. He’s protective of me, and everyone else right now. He might be worried about you being here and how it might put you in danger. Let me ask him. I’ll get back to you.”
“Thanks.” She hung up and continued to trudge down the road. She passed through the gates and started the long walk down the path leading back to the road.
God, if Sophie didn’t call soon…
A car’s engine purred as it zipped down the road behind her, coming up fast. She stepped into the grass, dragging her suitcase off the road. A Porsche Spyder skidded to a stop next to her.
“I got a call saying you might need a ride,” a familiar voice said.
She stopped and turned to face the driver of the Spyder.
“Royce Devereaux. You always show up when you aren’t needed.” She couldn’t resist teasing him.
“Babe, I’m always needed by someone, and I always come.” He winked.
He was such a devil but she liked him—when he wasn’t pissing her off. His devil-may-care grin faded as he studied her injured arm and then frowned. “It’s nice to see you survived your vacation.”
She realized he must have talked to Wes or Emery and heard she’d gotten shot. With a casual shrug she nodded.
“Excluding bullets and car wrecks it was actually quite nice.”
“Hmm.” He pursed his lips as he put his car in park and got out to help her put her luggage in the trunk. A true gentleman. It was a trait she admired about him. Even if he was a dominant at the Gilded Cuff Club, he still respected and treated a woman like she was a princess. Her brother was like that, as was Emery. Fenn, too. The thought made her heart squeeze. He was a truly good man, the type who risked his life to save another man’s ranch.
“Get in.” He opened the passenger door for her.
“Thanks. How’d you know I needed a ride?”
“Sophie called me. She said to take you to Wes’s tonight. It’s supposed to be safer there.” Royce eyed her curiously. “Did you get into trouble?” He was half-teasing, but she sensed the concern that underlined his question.
“Sort of, I guess. More like trouble by association. I got a little close to Fenn, and he was the target of two ‘incidents’.” She slid into her seat and buckled herself in.
As Royce walked around the car to his door, Hayden swallowed down a lump of disappointment. She wanted to see Fenn again, hadn’t even gotten a chance to say good-bye. Wes had said Fenn needed time with his family and that they should leave early. Besides, Fenn and Emery had made plans to visit the house where they’d been held captive, a place that would probably bring back horrible memories. If only he’d let her go with him, let her hold his hand, or provide him any comfort she could. But he hadn’t.
Maybe he doesn’t care for me as much as I do him…
God, she’d let it go too far. Falling in love should have been a fun experiment, since she’d never cared about a man, never trusted a man like she did Fenn. But it wasn’t. It was terrifying. She cared so much about him and he didn’t seem to have any interest in her except in the bedroom. It was like high school all over again. Pretty but unpopular, except for with the guys who wanted to date her because of who her father was. And she always ended up alone. In falling for Fenn, she’d made a grave mistake.
“Why so glum, sugar plum?” Royce asked in a
heavily southern accent. She bit her lip to keep from smiling. It was something he’d done when she’d been younger. He’d play act the gentleman to her Southern belle whenever he and Wes had been charged with babysitting her while her parents had gone out to parties. Those two teenage boys had sat through more than their fair share of tea parties with a five-year-old who’d been obsessed with the movie Gone With the Wind, but they’d taken it like champions. Resurrecting that old accent was still Royce’s favorite way to get her to smile.
When he reached to cup her chin and turn her face his way, she swatted his hand. “I’m not five years old anymore.”
“You still pout like you are.” He tapped her nose and then put the car into drive, heading for Wes’s house.
“So you and the infamous Fenn got close, really close I hear. What’s he like?”
She fidgeted, hating to talk about Fenn, not when the wound of his apparent indifference was still fresh.
“He’s…” How did one describe a dream come to life? A walking phantom of lost innocence.
“Well?”
“Think Emery but in jeans and boots, and a little more quiet.”
Royce laughed hard. “That’s it? You get naked with a man and that’s all you can say about it? No wonder the doms at the club don’t know what to do with you.” He continued to chuckle for a moment before he grew serious. “Does he still not remember his life before he was taken?” There was a seriousness in his eyes, like heavy shadows stealing across the yard as daylight faded on the last evening of summer. Like the loss of a golden age that couldn’t be reclaimed, only mourned. He, like Wes, had lost so much in losing Fenn as a child. Royce was rarely serious, and seeing his grave expression now tightened her heart.
“I think he remembers more now. It seemed like when he saw Emery today for the first time a lot of it came back.” She was hesitant to say if Fenn remembered Royce, and she knew that’s what he wanted to know.
“Huh, twins, right?” He laughed again but the sound was more subdued.