by Tijan
She sobered. A beat later, she said softly, “Karen died. They moved away. Life changes people. They forget.”
Life hardened people.
She didn’t say it, but I heard it.
I looked at her again, like I was seeing her anew. “That’s why you stay out there.”
Her eyes widened. She looked stricken.
“You don’t want to forget your mother.”
One beat.
We stared at each other, both knowing that I crossed the line. I should take back my words, but I couldn’t. She was going to bolt. I didn’t have time.
We moved at the same time.
I knew she was going to run, and I went for the patio door. I meant to block her, to apologize.
She didn’t go back for the door. She launched herself over the patio.
“Morgan!”
My heart stopped. Literally.
It was a ten-foot drop.
The world paused in that second, and then I was at the edge. I wasn’t ready to see her body there, but my God, if I hadn’t known I cared for her, I would’ve then.
Fear like I’d only experienced one other time crashed through me.
Not again. Please not again.
But she wasn’t down there. I searched the ground. There was no sight of her.
Shit, shit, shit!
“Morgan.”
Where was she?
I scanned the grounds, and then I saw her.
She was jogging down the field, and already knowing what I’d see, I spotted her horse at the end of the fence. She was waiting for Morgan as if the girl had called for a car or something.
A raw laugh ripped from me, and I fell back into my chair.
My heart was racing.
My body heat was a bonfire, and I’d never been so relieved before.
I was happy, but I fucked up, and I wasn’t so upset about that, either, because I had my answer. I had suspected before, but I had as much pull on her as she had on me. Whatever we were locked in, we were both in it.
She’d be back.
Brody
Thirty minutes later, I’d finished the last of the bourbon and was heading to bed when a tentative knock had my dick hard again. Instead of heading to my bedroom, I kept straight and swung open the door.
“You actually know how to knoc—” My words died in my throat.
I wasn’t staring at Morgan. I was staring at her stepsister.
“Oh.” My hand let go of the door, and I stepped back.
Abigail Kellerman, whom I met briefly my first night there, was standing on the porch, not a single brother in sight.
I chuckled to myself, pointing to the door. “Is that weird for you?”
“What?”
“Having to knock on your own door? This is technically your place, not mine.”
“What?”
“Nothing.” She wasn’t in my headspace. I waved a hand inside. “Come on in.” I held up the empty bottle. “I’ve had a few, so fair warning.”
I didn’t mean to, but I knew I was giving her the rakish grin I reserved to turn a woman on. The bourbon was messing with me, making me go into work mode. I didn’t want to do that, not with her, at least.
I shook my head, trying to clear the act.
I was about to shut the door but paused. “You’re not here to sleep with me, are you?”
Her eyes threatened to bulge out, and her neck reddening as she patted her hair in a nervous habit. “What? No. Oh my gosh. No.” She stopped patting her hair, and her head bent forward, her eyebrows pinching hard together. “Though, I suppose that does happen to you.”
We were in the clear. I shut the door.
I motioned to the living room. “Did you want a seat or . . .” She walked to the patio, and a whole new understanding filled me.
I almost felt bad for her.
I moved to the doorway and studied her as she focused on the chair Morgan had been using thirty minutes ago.
I said, “You heard us?”
“I wanted to come before, but I was so scared of scaring her away. I heard her laugh.” Abigail laughed under her breath as she went to the chair. Her hand rested on the back of it. She sounded in awe. “It’s been so long since I heard that from her.”
Feeling twenty shades of awkward, I coughed. “Do you want something to drink?”
“No.” She turned those big eyes on me. “Can I—I mean . . . can you tell me about her?”
“What?”
“Yeah.” She sank onto Morgan’s chair, folding her hands in her lap. She was almost posing there, just on the edge of the seat. “Matthew’s talked to her, but he doesn’t freely talk about her. I don’t know. I can’t get a good sense of how she is from him, but he told me that she talks to you. Could you . . .” She waved for me to sit again in my old chair. “Please.”
“Do it, asshole. She’s a sis yearning for her other sis. It’s the least you could do.”
I could literally hear Kyle grumbling and sighed, taking a seat. I almost wanted another bottle of bourbon for this, but no. If it’d been Kyle. If it’d been me. I would’ve wanted to know too.
I raked a hand over my face. “What do you want to know?”
“Is she happy?”
I nodded. I knew that right away. “She seems to be.”
A tear formed in her eye, but she ignored it and scooted even closer to the edge of her seat. I eyed her feet, making sure they were planted in place so she wouldn’t slip off and onto the ground.
A second question. “Is she healthy?”
Her skin glowed. Her hair was shiny. Her eyes were mischievous. She lit up when she had a grin on her face.
I nodded again. “She looks good. Healthy.”
“She’s eating enough?”
She was petite but strong. She could move like a panther. “She doesn’t seem to be hurting for food. She isn’t weak or frail-looking.”
She let out a shuddering breath, nodding as she finally reached to brush the tear away. “What did you guys talk about?”
“Ah.” An awkward laugh escaped as I shifted. “Well, we . . . I don’t know. Just bullshit, I guess. She asked about me, about my life. I told her a little bit.”
Her eyebrows pulled together again. The ends of her mouth dipped down. “What else?”
“She told me you smeared peanut butter on Matthew’s backseat for one of his dates.”
Her eyes widened again. “She told you that?”
“And that Finn took the fall for you.”
“Oh my . . .” Her mouth stayed open. Both her hands lifted to cover it and she bent forward, resting her forehead on her knees.
I sat up, cringed, and reached toward her, not really knowing what to do, but then I heard the soft laughter.
My shoulders slumped, and I let my hand drop.
Her laughter grew. Soft at first until her shoulders were shaking, and her laugh was echoing over the field. She sat straight, her face beat red with tears all over.
Wiping at her face, still laughing, she began hiccupping. “I can’t believe—” Hiccup. “She remembered—” Another hiccup. She groaned, taking a breath.
She was silent, still holding her breath.
When she exhaled, she leaned back in her seat and let her head rest against the cushion. “Sorry.” A lopsided grin flashed for a moment. A few more soft chuckles had her shaking her head again. “I can’t believe she remembered and that she told you. That was so long ago.”
Her eyes lit up again.
I knew exactly why she began crying again.
I thought of Kyle.
I thought of the laughs we had, the stupid adventures, and I would’ve been crying alongside her if I didn’t have a whole bottle of bourbon in me. It was helping to numb the pain.
“She was so quiet when we moved in.” Abigail wasn’t stopping the tears anymore. She let them slide freely as she looked out over the field. “We all doted on her. I did her hair. She begged me to show her how to do makeup. Finn brought h
er along every time we did those stupid pranks. She was his apprentice. That was what he called her. He was going to teach her how to take care of herself, and in his mind, that meant learning all the best ways to trick someone. Then there was Matthew and her. She worshiped him, and he always protected her, and then when Karen died . . .” Her mouth closed tightly, and her throat trembled. Fresh tears slid down her cheeks. “Morgan was supposed to come with us. She was a part of our family. I expected her to be brought to my school, but it never happened. I never thought—” She chewed on the corner of her lip, sounding anguished. “We lost Karen and Morgan that day. We came to visit a few times after, but it was never the same.”
I tried to imagine life from her perspective.
Matthew said he was sixteen when Karen died, that would’ve put the twins around fourteen. She would’ve been in junior high. I had no clue what happened to their first mother, but she would’ve been grieving. I heard the love there. She’d been happy when they were here with Morgan and her mother, but I thought about afterward . . .
The new mother was killed.
All decisions should’ve been pointed toward protecting the youngest. The most vulnerable was always protected. That would’ve been Morgan.
That didn’t happen.
I heard Morgan’s explanation, but Abigail was talking as if it were out of her hands, as if she didn’t know why Morgan didn’t come to her, as if it hadn’t occurred to her to make the suggestion in the first place.
Anger rose, and I bit down on it, shoving it back.
Morgan was scared to move on, and these assholes were letting her stay scared.
“What?”
I looked at her. She was watching me, her tears almost all wiped away.
“What?”
She said, “You made a sound. Are you—” Her eyes narrowed. “Are you upset with me?”
Anger flashed back at me, and I saw how she sat up, how she straightened her shoulders, how her little chin lifted in defiance.
There was the adventurous girl Morgan mentioned.
I gestured to her. “You should be this girl more often.”
“Excuse me?” Her head reared back a little.
“You walk around like a beat dog with your tail between your legs.”
The asshole in me broke the surface. If I was starting, I had to stick with my motto: Go big or go home.
She sucked in her breath. I didn’t want to hear her false indignation. I rolled my eyes and said, “Your whole family drives me fucking crazy. You’re all moaning about each other, but she’s here.” I shoved to my feet and pointed to the field. “You want her? Go get her! And if you can’t find her, turn it around so she has to find you. Get lost. Get into a situation where she has to talk to you. Good grief. And your brother? He looks at her like he wants to control her, and Morgan knows it.”
“What?”
“Kyle, where are you?”
“A million bucks that’s probably why she’s staying the fuck away. If I were a girl, I’d do the same. I don’t know what your issue is, but if you guys want her, go and goddamn get her. She’s here. She’s within reach. She’s alive. She’s breathing. She’s still going to be here tomorrow! Don’t waste your time.”
“I’m in your car.”
I was breathing hard.
I was sweating now.
“Brody, I’m damn proud of you.”
The patio was spinning.
I was losing balance.
I heard screeching sounds—then metal crunching.
“Are you close?”
I was falling.
I felt myself going down.
“I can’t wait to get there.”
“Kyle,” I whispered, my voice heavy and distorted.
I heard screaming in the background, but I couldn’t pinpoint where it came from. Who it was.
That damn dial tone.
Something crashed and then the world went black.
Brody
A headache greeted me when I woke, but it wasn’t the one in my skull.
I opened an eye, saw Gayle, and immediately wished I could go back to sleep. I didn’t need to ask. Everything came rushing in.
Talking to Morgan.
Drinking.
Watching Morgan running away.
More drinking.
Then Abigail.
The drinks hitting me.
I groaned. “Am I fired?”
Gayle looked up, folding the newspaper and tucking it back down into her purse. “No, but from what Shan says, you should be.”
Shan. “You’re on nickname basis?”
My manager grunted, a cocky grin teasing her lips. “Brody, it’s my job to be on nickname basis with almost everyone I meet. And to answer your question, you aren’t. Abby said she wasn’t there on movie business.”
Another nickname. I didn’t ask this time.
I waited to hear whatever lecture Gayle had in store, but nothing came. Looking at her, seeing her deadpanned expression, it clicked. “No! I didn’t sleep with her.”
“Are you sure?”
I was in the twilight zone. “Good Lord, did she say we did?”
“No. That’s the thing. She’s keeping a tight lip on why she was there, but she’s only saying it didn’t have to do with the movie. Once Shan found out you were fine, she started talking about firing you and backup A-list actors.”
I fucked up. Bad.
I squinted, looking around the room. “Where am I?”
There were no call lights beeping in the distance, and I wasn’t in a hospital nightgown. An IV pole was next to me and there was a fake plant in the corner, but that was it. The room looked barren.
“They moved you into the main house.”
But . . . I couldn’t remember Matthew’s reason for kicking everyone out.
Gayle’s hand pressed down on my arm, reassuring me. “He said the radon test came back fine. They’ll move you as soon as you’re ready.”
Radon? That was the excuse he gave?
I sagged back down into my bed. The headache was beginning to pound behind my temples, but I knew Gayle would drop the hammer real quick. I wanted to get it over with.
“Lay it on me, G. Tell me how I messed up.”
That was all she’d been waiting for.
“First”—she held up a hand, her eyes gleaming—“you will goddamn stop drinking! I mean it. I confiscated all of your booze. The crew will be thanking you for their amazing party tonight. Second, you will tell me why Abby Kellerman was in your room. She said you started ranting and raving before you passed out. I know something is going on. You and the Kellermans are the only ones still on the property, and it has nothing to do with some phony radon test. And third, you have to talk to someone about your brother’s death. You know it, and I know it. I get it, but enough is enough. He wouldn’t want you to tank your fucking career.”
My mother just inhabited her body.
I sighed, pushing up until I was in a sitting position. Looking down at my chest, I didn’t want to ask where all the bruises came from.
Gayle saw my look. “They had to cut your shirt off to check you over. You fell hard on the floor, then when they were moving you to the main house, you woke up and started swinging. You were going on about Kyle and Captain Morgan.”
Captain Morgan?
I was pretty sure I hadn’t been adding the “Captain” part. Thank God I was a boozehound.
“Is Abigail mad?”
She frowned. “No, which is the weird thing. She isn’t upset at you. She wants to talk to you once you are awake. You ready for that?”
I nodded, sighing. “Better to get it over with now.”
Gayle stood, her purse in hand. She paused at the door, glancing back. “You can thank me, by the way, for not letting Shanna fire your ass. You passed out, and they called a doctor to come here. She worried about it being leaked to the papers.”
“But I’m good to go?”
She grunted, disapproval lining he
r frown. “You’re good to go. I’ll let you yank out your own IV.”
I was doing just that after she left, when I sensed someone in the doorway. “You can come in.” If it was Shanna, I wanted to get the ass-chewing done.
It was Morgan’s sister.
“Hey.” I let go of the IV cord, but I couldn’t stay in the damn bed. I felt like an invalid. Sitting on the edge, I was glad to see sweatpants, but these weren’t the jeans I’d been wearing last night. I was shirtless, and I wished that weren’t the case. The bruises were a garish purple and blue. “You can come in, and”—I glanced around but couldn’t see a shirt—“I would cover up, but I’m not seeing anything.”
She hid a smile, stepping in and shutting the door behind her. “We did call two EMTs that our family knows. They thought it would be funny to change your clothes, hide the shirts. They’re both divorced and big fans of yours.”
I grunted out a laugh. “So much for Shanna’s hope to keep this quiet.”
Abigail shook her head, suddenly serious again. “They won’t say a word. I promise. We’ve used them a lot over the years, I mean, when we were here before.”
“A lot?”
I eyed her, moving to the chair and lowering myself down carefully.
She nodded, moving to the other vacant chair in the corner. We were watching each other over the bed.
“Finn was always getting hurt. After the first few times, he kind of became friends with them. I think he met them for a beer afterward.”
“Good to have resources like that.”
“Yeah.” She looked down to her lap. She was twisting her hands together. “I went to see you last night to ask a favor. When I got there, I just got so curious. She doesn’t talk to people. Ever. Unless you catch her sneaking through the house, which sounds really ridiculous when you think about it, but—”
I cut her off. She had to know first. “I’m sorry for going off last night.”
“Huh?” She lifted her head again. “Oh. No. That was fine. I get it. I really do.” She lifted a shoulder. “It was pretty obvious you were projecting. I know about your brother.” Her eyes grew sad. “Everyone does.”
“I hope I didn’t scare you last night. I’d never . . . well, you know.”
“No! I totally know. I don’t want you to think I was scared or anything. It was actually, kind of heartbreaking. You kept saying Kyle’s name, and then you started saying things about Morgan. I hid the bourbon, told everyone you’d been drinking Captain Morgan.”