by J. Saman
“Do I charm you, cupcake?”
“Definitely not.” I smile, bumping my hip into his side.
“Claire?” someone says behind me just as we reach the lot for my building. Both Kyle and I spin around, and I gasp at the sight in front of me.
Chapter 13
Claire
“What are you doing here?” I ask my father, barely able to form the words. That’s how stunned I am right now. I haven’t seen him in years. Not since I graduated college and he and I had a fight about how I should live my life.
I can feel Kyle next to me, his posture stiff as his hand moves up to grasp my arm protectively.
I wish he wasn’t here to witness this.
My father has aged in the last three years. Those creases around his eyes from years of squinting into the desert sun are more prominent. My dad is tall and broad with silver hair styled into a short military cut, and the arrogant air of a man who is used to having people do his bidding. He’s dressed in his typical two-star General Army gear.
And after not seeing him for three years, you’d think I’d feel something resembling nostalgia or maybe even regret, since it’s been so long, but I don’t. I feel disgust for him because I can only guess as to his reason for showing up now.
“I’m in town for the Pentagon,” he says, his eyes bouncing quickly to Kyle like the fact that he works at the Pentagon should impress him. So goddamn arrogant.
“So what?” I ask, tilting my head. “You thought you’d look me up? How did you find me?” I am not listed. And Ryan and Luke, being the paranoid bastards that they are, go to great lengths to keep my shit private.
“Claire?” Kyle asks, grasping my forearm a little tighter, trying to move me behind him. He’s protecting me and I sort of love him for that right now. Sort of wish he would just whisk me away from here so I don’t ever have to see my father again.
“It’s fine, Kyle. This is my father,” I explain, waving my hand out in front of me.
My father’s cold eyes turn on Kyle, his thin lips forming a sneer. “Is this your flavor of the moment?” His eyes bounce to mine before turning back to Kyle. “You can run along now, son. It’s not like she was going to keep you, anyway.”
Wow. He’s really not holding back.
“Hey, I don’t care who you are, but you can’t talk to Claire—” Kyle snaps, stepping forward, about to lay into my father, but I interrupt him before this gets out of control.
“Stop being an asshole, dad. This is my friend Kyle. I work with him,” I emphasize the two key words in those sentences hoping he takes the hint and shuts the fuck up. “Clearly, this isn’t the time or the place for this. In fact, you can go back to D.C. or finish your work here or whatever.”
“You insolent little brat,” my father hisses through his teeth, one stern finger pointed in my direction. “How dare you speak to me that way? You and I are having this conversation. Again. It’s time you listen to me.”
Jesus Christ, I cannot do this with him. I shake head, suddenly sick to my stomach.
“Claire?” Kyle says my name again, only I don’t know what to say to him. I look up into his hazel eyes and see the concern and confusion dancing in them. “What do you want me to do? Do you want me to get us out of here?”
I can’t help but grin a little at that.
“Listen,” my father starts, “Kyle, is it? I need to talk to my daughter—”
“I’m not leaving her,” Kyle says firmly, staring my father down with an unflinching gaze.
“You’re not a part of this,” my father yells, his cheeks turning ruddy.
We’re standing on the side of my building, off to the side, but there is no shortage of people walking on the sidewalk behind my father. No shortage of people who heard him yell and who could hear this conversation if they so desired.
I take a step toward my dad, Kyle’s hand still firmly affixed to my arm like he’s afraid to let go. I wish he would just go, but I know he won’t, even if I ask. So instead, I speak directly to my father. And whatever Kyle hears, well, I can’t do much about that right now.
I lock eyes with my father so I know he hears me. “I know what you want to say, but my position on this matter has not changed. And it won’t.”
His dark blue eyes—the same shade as mine—turn an obsidian black. His rage is taking on a new form, but really, I don’t know what he’s expecting. He’s never spent time with me, never acted the way a father is supposed to act. He made it clear my entire life that I was nothing more than an inconvenience to him. Something he was required to provide for and that’s it. He can kiss my ass if he thinks he’s getting control of that money. Or taking over my life. Or making me work for the government.
“Your mother is dead, Claire. Dead. Is that what you want for yourself?”
I shake my head, but the fact that Kyle has stepped closer to me only reminds me that I need to choose my words carefully. “I can’t do anything about Mom. Nor could I have. She cut me out of her life a while ago and her decision was made before that. You know that.”
My father shakes his head before his chin drops to his chest in contempt. “She didn’t cut you out of everything.”
He hates my mother for what she did. I didn’t even have to speak with him to know that.
“She’s going to burn in hell,” he says, like he knows this for a fact. “And you’ll join her if you don’t let me help you.”
Help. Right. Like that’s really his intention. More like my lack of autonomy so he can take over my life.
“What will you do once you lose your mind the way she did? You constantly make bad decisions for yourself. I can fix that.”
I laugh out loud, but Kyle steps forward. “I think it’s time you go. Now.”
“All I wanted was for you to make a different choice with your life. Why can’t you see that? You can still come and work for the DOJ,” my father says, completely ignoring Kyle who is starting to get really fired up himself. “You can let me take over. Let me protect you from yourself before you end up like her.”
Kyle moves me, trying to get me to turn around so that we can get to my car.
And I let him, but just before I’m facing the other way, I roll my head over my shoulder and lock eyes with my father, probably for the last time. “It wouldn’t make a difference either way,” I tell him honestly. “It is what it is, Dad. I can’t change that and neither can you. And I will never work for you or allow you to take over my life.”
Kyle leads me to my car through the outdoor lot at the back of my building. Somehow, he’s silent, though I’m sure he’s bursting at the seams with questions that he probably knows I won’t answer. He takes the keys from my hand, unlocks my car and then we both get in.
Kyle starts the engine, pulling out of the lot and past my father, who is still standing in the same spot, watching us go. He doesn’t try to stop us, so I guess he got the message. Part of me has to wonder that if he didn’t have business here, if I ever would have seen him. I know how he found me. I mean, the man does work at the Pentagon. He has top-secret clearance and access—or whatever the hell you call it.
But I don’t really understand why he bothered.
My father has never told me he loves me. That he’s proud of me. He never hoisted me up on his shoulders, or took me to a ball game, or came to any of my dance or concert recitals. In fact, he wasn’t around. Ever. Aside from the few years I was forced into his possession, I can count the number of times I saw him on two hands, and I don’t even need all my fingers for that.
He can think my mother is burning in hell, but I don’t believe in that shit. I don’t. Sometimes life is worse than death. If that ends up being my fate, then I’m not so worried about it.
I realize I’ve been silent, lost in my own thoughts when I hear Kyle clear his throat. “I don’t know where I’m going. I’m just sort of driving us around,” he admits.
I clear my head away from the childhood I never had and look out the window, taking s
tock of where we are. Kyle went in the total opposite direction of the office.
“Sorry,” I tell him, hoping it covers much more than the fact that he was forced to drive us in a city he’s not familiar with. “Turn right up here,” I instruct, pointing to the intersection. “I can drive us, if you want to pull over.”
“No,” he says. “But I will pull over to punch in the address into your GPS.”
I don’t say anything else as he parks the car on the side of the road in morning rush hour and plays around with my GPS. I don’t care. Let him do whatever the hell he wants. In fact, if he told me he was taking me out of the city and up into the mountains for the day, or down to the ocean, I’d been cool with that.
But he can’t.
Today is technically his first day, and he has an exam to study for and Bridgett is waiting and life goes on. It just does. It doesn’t stop even when you want it to. Even when you might need it to. It just continues to spin, which means that’s what I have to do too.
“Do you want to tell me about it?” he offers once he gets us going in the right direction. “I’m a good listener, Claire, and I’d take your secrets to my grave.”
Shit. He means that. And it’s so very tempting.
Yet, at the same time, it’s not. I don’t really want to have that conversation with him. I don’t want to tell him all my dark and ugly. I like the fact that Kyle sees me the way he always has. And maybe that girl isn’t perfect. Maybe she drinks too much on occasion and goes out with too many guys, and lives life by her own rules.
But he likes that Claire. He likes the girl he knows and I need that from him. More than he’ll ever understand, I need it. I need the way he sees me not to change.
So, I say, “That’s sweet of you, Kyle. And I appreciate it. But I’m fine. My dad has never really been my dad, and in case you missed it, we don’t see eye to eye on much.”
“When was the last time you saw him?” he asks, quietly, as if he’s afraid of pushing his luck with the questions. “You were surprised he knew how to find you.”
I look over at him, a small smirk quirking up my lips. “Caught that, did ya?”
He glances over at me quickly before turning back to the road. His hands at two and ten, his back straight, and I realize he’s not entirely comfortable behind the wheel. He didn’t exactly drive much in New York, so I get it.
“I’m a lawyer, Claire. I catch everything.”
“Right,” I say, making a note of that. “I haven’t talked to him since I graduated college a few years back. But in truth, he and I were never close and I never saw him much.”
“If he hasn’t seen you in such a long time, why does he think you sleep around?”
I bust out laughing, a loud cackling sound that might just be a touch crazy. “Nice. Really nice.”
Kyle looks over at me and then he gets what he said. “Shit. No!” he shakes his head back and forth. “That’s not how I meant it. Fuck.” He runs a frustrated hand through his hair. “Damn it, I’m flustered here and I don’t do flustered—except with you, apparently. I just meant, why would he think that about you? I don’t believe you’re like that. It bothered me, is all. I hated him saying that about you. I wanted to throttle him for it.”
I smile at that. “Kyle Grant, you really are one of a kind. And I mean that in the best possible way.” He’s silent, waiting me out, and I sigh. He wants answers, and for some inexplicable reason, I suddenly want to give them. “I lived in St. Louis for most of my life. I hadn’t seen my dad since I was thirteen and he finally came for a visit two weeks before I graduated high school. He came into my mom’s house like he lived there and walked in on me having sex with my boyfriend.”
I look over at Kyle, but his eyes are focused on the road, his head tilted ever so slightly in my direction, like he’s taking in every word I’m saying, and analyzing it.
“He freaked out. Phoned my mom after yelling at me for an hour and calling me every name imaginable. My mom basically said that she knew we were having sex since we’d been together for two years. Said that Morgan was a good kid, we were careful and he loved me.”
“That doesn’t really explain things.”
I laugh, shaking my head. “The last time I saw him before today was a week before I graduated college. Which incidentally was the first time I had seen him since that time in my mom’s house. My father had been emailing me because I had gotten an offer from the DOJ to build weapons of mass destruction and I wasn’t into it. He was super pissed. Anyway, when he walked into my dorm room, he found Ryan sitting on my bed.”
“What the fuck?” Kyle snaps, his knuckles gripping the steering wheel until they turn white. “I thought nothing happened with you two.”
“Slow your roll over there, baby cakes. Nothing has, or will ever, happen with Ryan. We were fully clothed, sitting on my bed doing work. My father noted that Ryan was only slightly older and didn’t buy the line about him being my boss. Whatever. My father’s a self-righteous, indignant prick, especially for someone who knocked up a girl he barely knew when he was eighteen. So yeah, he thinks I’m a slut and that I’m wasting away working for Ryan instead of the government, and he has a lot of ideas about how I should live my life.”
Kyle opens his mouth, about to ask more questions, but I hold up my hand, stopping him before this gets out of control. There are only a few more logical questions and I don’t want Kyle to ask them, because I don’t want to lie or be evasive or whatever. “That’s as much truth as I can give for this hour on a Monday morning.”
“I can’t stand my father,” Kyle says quietly and my head snaps over in his direction.
Ryan doesn’t speak about his father often. I know he’s an alcoholic. I know their mother is too, but is more in control of it—if it’s something you can ever really have control of—than their father. Ryan called him catatonic once. And I never really pushed it because clearly my family is no prize.
“It’s really a mutual dislike mixed with dissatisfaction.”
“Why?” I breathe out when he doesn’t elaborate.
Kyle’s eyes flicker in my direction before turning back to the road. “Because I had cancer. And that drove my father to drink. He blames me for it and refuses to stop. To even seek help. Probably because he likes it. A lot. My mother blames me for it too. And fuck that. I refuse to take responsibility for it. I was a goddamn kid with cancer. In case you haven’t noticed, Ryan and I don’t speak to them much.”
“Yeah, I did notice that. Primarily at the wedding.”
He nods his head like I get it. And I guess I do. Families are tough. Love isn’t always a given. At least, it wasn’t in my childhood and apparently not in Kyle’s either.
I stare him down, even if he can’t look back, I know he feels the weight of it. “I’m sorry you have shitty parents.” I pause here, debating whether or not to say this next bit, but my need for security is outweighing his potential insult. “I’d appreciate it if you wouldn’t say anything to Luke or Ryan, or anyone else for that matter.”
Kyle looks over at me, fixing me with his discerning gaze now that we’re stuck at a red light a few blocks from work. “Okay, Claire. I won’t say anything.”
It’s sort of funny the way he says that. It reminds me of the way Ryan said something similar after my mother died. Jesus, how many people are holding on tight to my secrets right now?
“Thank you.” I smile at him, a little relieved that his eyes are still clear and not clouded with pity.
A few minutes later, we pull into the garage at work. After he turns off my car but before I can get out, he yanks me into his chest, wrapping his arms around me. Kyle doesn’t say anything, he just holds me tight. His heart pounds in his chest against my ear, his fingers glide down my hair as his lips press into the top of my head.
It would be so easy to sink into him, into this. So very easy to allow myself to get lost for just a few minutes. To escape reality. I’m good at that. I have a lot of practice with it. But with
Kyle, it’s different. He’s different. I can’t explain it and I don’t understand it, but he is.
“I’m here for you, baby,” he says softly and I get locked in the promise of those words. In the way he calls me baby.
But I’m not his and I never can be. My father’s visit reminded me fully of that, so I pull back and smile. “Thanks, baby cakes. You’re aces.” I kiss his cheek and get the hell out of the car where I can breathe without his damn scent infiltrating my nose and clouding my senses.
We get into the building and I take Kyle up to the top floor where our offices are, after showing him around a bit. The only way into the building is by scanning your badge. If you don’t have one, or someone doesn’t know you and let you in, you’re not getting in. Ryan and Luke are super crazy about security and are very cautious about social engineering.
There is no outside access for anyone.
“So, this is the place,” I say to Kyle, standing in between my desk and Ryan’s office. “You like?”
He leans into me, his hazel eyes dancing around my face before they grow serious. “I like. I’m going to be honest with you, I didn’t think I would. I expected to hate everything about this because it wasn’t New York. Because it wasn’t what I was used to. Because the idea of working for my brother is off-putting. But maybe I was wrong. Maybe being here and being with you and everyone else and starting this new life is a good thing.”
“Maybe.” I smile up at him.
“Do you want to show me my office?” Kyle asks in a tone I cannot place.
I open my mouth to answer when Luke yells out, “What’s up kids?”
Kyle and I both turn in unison to see the cocky asshole approach. He slaps Kyle’s back hard and Kyle jabs at him with his elbow.
“Dick,” Kyle mutters, pushing Luke’s hand away. “That any way to greet your new lawyer?”
“Kyle, I’ve known you since you were in diapers.”
I snicker, but Kyle just blows it off. “Right, when was that, grandpa? You mean when I was a teenager?”