by C. M. Owens
“Anyway, that was the last day I saw my grandfather. My uncle told my father all about what had happened to him as a kid, things my father never would have believed if not for the bruises on my body. Dad lost it and nearly went to jail when he beat my grandfather so bad that the old man stayed in the hospital for two weeks. Edward was the only thing that stopped him from killing him. Dad wouldn’t stop until my grandfather was sobbing and begging for mercy. It pretty much got swept under the rug because of the pull the Sterlings have. They were friends with Dad and they felt like the bastard in the hospital belonged in the grave. The adults knew, but they never told their kids in order to give me privacy. And that was that.”
He finally looks up to meet my eyes again, and I quickly wipe away my tears.
“So Edward turned to alcohol and women, and you grew numb because of one man.”
“Edward had it every day instead of just in the summer. And Edward broke mentally in a different way.”
“I never knew. I’m not that close to Tria and Rain, so they’ve never told me about any of that.”
He sits up. “They don’t know about it. Edward never wanted them to know. He made that clear to my father and me.”
“What? Why? They hate him, and they don’t even know what scars got him to where he was.”
“Exactly. Edward made a lot of really stupid, really selfish, and really hurtful decisions. Even when he was dying, he asked my father not to say a word. He might have been a fuck-up, but he owned his mistakes. He never wanted his wife or daughters to feel sorry for him or excuse his behavior. He chose to neglect his daughters. He chose to fuck around on his wife all those years. He told me to choose wiser. Edward was a broken man, but he was never the bastard everyone assumed he was. But he went to the grave as a villain because he refused to ever be labeled a victim.”
My mind is reeling, and I’m working damn hard not to pity him. Ethan isn’t the kind of guy to open up, and he probably never will again if I act like I pity him.
“Look, Bella, I don’t have a problem talking about this. I just don’t tell anyone from the group too much because I’m afraid it’d get back to Rain and Tria. Rye is the only one who knows everything. Hell, he and I got close because we both had baggage to deal with.”
“What happened to your sorry excuse for a grandfather?” I ask, feeling more anger than pity at the moment.
A dark grin curves his lips. “He dropped dead a while back after a stroke. They said he suffered for about three days, give or take. Hell, he’d still be rotting in his house unnoticed, but he’d ordered something offline several days before he collapsed, and the delivery man saw him through the window. No one went to his funeral. Most people didn’t even know he’d died.”
Sick and dark as it is, I’m glad he suffered and died alone. No one who abuses a child should have a happy ending.
“I started interning for my father during the summer after that. It was his way of keeping me close, since he felt like he’d failed me. I went to therapy and all that after they decided the numbness wasn’t a physical reaction, rather a mental one. I stopped going when I turned eighteen. I was over what happened, but I couldn’t make the numbness stop.”
He stands and stretches, smirking like he hasn’t just admitted to being a survivor.
“Until you,” he adds, leaning over and kissing my forehead. “Because you’re special.”
I’d smile under normal circumstances, since I know that’s what he’s trying to make me do. I don’t give him a forced smile, because it’d be too fake, and he’d know it.
“I know it’s none of my business, but I think you should tell Rain and Tria about Edward.”
Surprise mars his face. “Why? He’s dead now, and it was his wish to never have anyone know.”
I move up to my knees, slowly inching closer to him as he stands beside the bed. My arms go around his neck as I stare into his eyes.
“Because if I was them, I’d want to understand my father. On some level, they’ve both felt like it was all their fault. It’s a natural reaction to feeling unloved by a parent. If they could understand him better, they could forgive him and possibly move on. It’s not just his secret you’re keeping; it’s also their closure. And it’s just my opinion, but it seems like their father took a toll on them. In the past, Rain lashed out like she wanted to hurt someone more than they could ever hurt her, and that’s by her own confession. But I think it’s still holding Tria back.”
His lips flatten to a thin line as though he’s thinking it over. Instead of speaking about it again, he brushes his lips over mine.
“Eat your disgusting soup. I’ll find us a movie we can both endure,” he says instead.
Considering it’s his decision to make and not mine, I take the hint that the discussion is closed.
Of all the things I expected him to unload on me, this wasn’t it. He could be broken too, but he’s not. He’s just a little lost. At least now I understand why he slaved away in a corporate world for his father when he didn’t really want to.
He’s not the asshole I pegged him to be. At least not once you get past the first few layers.
Chapter 36
ETHAN
My phone rings, and I see my mother’s name flash across the screen of my phone. Damn it.
“Mom, hey, I told Dad I’d be at the dinner,” I tell her, moving toward my fridge and grabbing a bottle of water.
“I know. I know. But then he told me you had someone special. Are you dating someone?” she asks with far too much enthusiasm.
Bella went back to work today, and I’m stuck in the house, ready to sleep for hours on end. We’ve yet to have that awesome makeup sex I’ve heard so much about, but after everything I unloaded on her, I wasn’t exactly in the mood, and I don’t think she was either.
Oddly enough, I didn’t mind just doing the whole movie night with her wrapped around me. Now I feel like shit, but I’m not telling her because she’ll feel guilty. It’s why I lied and told her I have this super immune system… that I don’t really have.
I cough and sneeze, and Mom chirps in my ear.
“Ethan? Are you dating someone? And are you sick?”
Groaning, I ignore the fact I feel like ass as I move toward the couch and drop like a ton of bricks.
“Yes, I’m dating someone,” I tell her quickly. “No, I’m not sick,” I lie. I don’t want my mother here when I’m sick. She still thinks it’s okay to give me a sponge bath when I run a fever, and that’s just not cool.
“Who’s the girl?” Mom asks. I swear I hear her grinning.
“You’ll meet her at the dinner. I’m not giving you her name before then, because you’ll research her to the point of creepy. Then you’ll ask her a thousand probing personal questions you shouldn’t know to ask.”
“I’d never,” she gasps.
“You did it to the nobody-girls I took to the company parties,” I remind her. “And I wasn’t even dating them.”
“But they were prospects,” she states, acting as though that makes it all okay.
My head feels like an anchor being tossed over a ship when I try to lean up and take a sip of water.
“If you break out that damn wedding album at the dinner, I’ll leave with her, and we won’t come back until you return to your sane, rational self.”
She sighs as though she’s disappointed. “I want grandbabies. You can’t blame a woman for that. I’m not getting any younger, Ethan Noles.”
“And on that note, I’m going to let you go. I’ll see you at the dinner.”
I cough again as she rattles off a list of things I need to do to woo—fucking woo?—my girl. Unbelievable.
When she reaches the part about writing a poem about the first time I saw her, I hang up. She should know by now that’s not me. If Bella wanted poetry, she wouldn’t be entangled with me.
My door opens, and I mumble a few curses while watching for whoever is invading my house right now. When Wren steps into view, I groan.<
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“Not now,” I grumble, wrapping a blanket around me like a damn baby.
I regret losing that numbness right now.
“I’m not here to raise hell,” he says, amused. “Why are you curled up in a blanket?”
“I’m sick.” Motherfucker, it sounds like I’m pouting.
“So I guess Bella rubbed off on you,” he goads, grinning like a cheeky asshole.
“Again, not fucking now.”
Groaning, I cover my eyes with my arm.
“So the partying is over? Good, because I’m tired of trying to keep up with people who just turned twenty-one.”
“Partying isn’t over. Bella is going to have fun with me. It’s part of our compromise.”
I can hear his disappointed look spreading over his face. I don’t have to see it.
“Look, I get that you want to have fun, but you can’t always have your cake and icing too. Bella is ready for something serious, and—”
“I do not want to talk chicks. Especially not right now. This thing with Bella is mine. Not yours.”
“Do you have to be such a dick when I’m trying to give you advice?” He sounds more like he’s mocking me than getting angry, so I flip him off, because Bella really has rubbed off on me and that’s her favorite gesture.
He laughs like he’s thinking the same thing, and I go back to ignoring him as my head crashes around like a ship lost at sea.
“Fine. I’ll come back when you’re less of an ass.”
Before I can repeat my last non-verbal response, I hear another voice in the house, and I groan loudly.
“Wren?”
Why the hell is Kode here?
When I look over, Wren seems just as surprised as me to see Kode barreling through my house like it’s completely normal to just walk the hell in.
“Sorry, saw your car here, and I need your help.”
Wren crosses his arms over his chest, completely caught off guard and confused.
“Okay. Yeah. What?”
“Get your cousin to decide she wants to get married. You’re good at all that kind of shit.”
This is not going on in my house. Why are they discussing chicks right now? Marriage? Seriously? Kode and Tria hated each other not too long ago, and now he’s here for a heart-to-heart with Wren about marriage.
“All that shit?” Wren drawls. “You might want to refer to it as something else, and maybe then she’ll marry you.”
“I’m not proposing until she stops saying she doesn’t believe in marriage. I do have some pride.”
“Some,” I echo, then pinch my fingers together to represent the tiny amount he has.
Kode glares over me like I have no right to be eavesdropping—in my own fucking house.
“If you two bromancers want to plan weddings and whatever, do it at Dane’s. He’d appreciate it. Me? I just want to fucking sleep.”
Wren stifles a laugh, and Kode narrows his eyes at me.
“You lost your edge,” I say on a long, disappointed breath, turning over.
“Give him time,” I hear Wren saying as they walk out together to find a new China pattern for their upcoming weddings or whatever.
My phone buzzes on the table, and I glance over to see it’s Bella. It takes a lot of effort, but I snatch it and read the text.
BELLA: Daniel’s surgery went perfectly, even though it got set back to last night. His foot jerked! They just did a reflex test on the bottom of his feet, and the right one jerked! The left one responded as well, but I wanted you to know. xoxoxox
A sense of relief fills me that I wasn’t expecting. I didn’t even realize how much I wanted to hear that good news until this moment. I also have no clue what the hell to say.
ME: Good. I’d say send me a picture, but considering the last time I was in the hospital I was getting attacked for picking a kid up, I don’t think that’s appropriate.
BELLA: You could come and sex for yourself.
The hell?
BELLA: SEE for yourself. Not sex. I’ll do that for you when I get off.
BELLA: Get off from work, that is. You’ll have to be the one getting me off.
I’d laugh, but it hurts too much.
ME: I can’t come see.
BELLA: Yes, you can. There’s no reason they shouldn’t know. You were only keeping it a secret because of me. Come see what your fat wallet has done for a kid who didn’t have any hope until you.
If I felt worth a damn, that would have me caving. I’m almost positive it’s not smart to have some stupid virus and show up in a hospital full of kids who are sick and have weakened immune systems.
ME: Not today.
BELLA: Yes, today. It would be a good morale boost to see his hero.
ME: You’re his hero.
BELLA: Stop being stubborn.
ME: You’re being stubborn.
BELLA: You’re being petulant. And grumpy. Come see him.
ME: I can’t.
BELLA: I’m seconds away from kicking your ass.
ME: Is that supposed to scare me?
BELLA: I’m cumming on it.
That one does have me laughing… and groaning. Pretty sure that’s not even a real word.
ME: Guess you don’t need me to get you off after all.
BELLA: What?
BELLA: Stupid perverted phone! COUNTING on it. Not conning.
BELLA: Conning??? Oh NOW it decides ‘cumming’ isn’t a word!
I’m laughing, coughing, groaning, and cursing all at the same time. I don’t even get to message her back before she’s hitting my phone up again.
BELLA: Seriously. Please?
ME: I can’t.
BELLA: Give me one good reason…
Sighing, I scrub a hand over my face, frustrated with the damn relentless woman.
ME: I’m sick.
I expect a witty retort, or some claim that I’m lying, but instead, she sends me back one letter.
BELLA: K
K? What the hell? I tell her I’m sick and that’s her response?
Fucking eh. I am grumpy.
I decide to go to sleep, and I toss my phone to the ground. I really hate being sick when I can feel every ache and pain.
Chapter 37
BELLA
As soon as I get off work, I rush home and pack up all my supplies that I have left. I hid from all the schedulers so that no one could tell me to stay over.
After getting it all packed, I head over to Ethan’s house, and I punch in the code. He really should pick a better code than his birthday. That’s way too predictable.
I put the basket of things on the counter, and I head into the living room where I find Ethan face down on the couch with the blanket tangled around his feet. He looks so pitiful, but it’s kind of cute, because I’m weird like that.
“I thought you didn’t get sick,” I tell him, which has his body stiffening.
He blows out a breath, not bothering to lean up, and he speaks into the pillow his head is on.
“Lies. All lies,” he grumbles, the words muffled a little.
Fighting the urge to laugh, I head over, feeling how warm his body is as soon as I touch his shoulder. He grunts as he forces himself to roll over and look at me.
I looked like a pale nightmare after Carrie’s bloody prom night when I was sick. He looks just as sexy as always. Life isn’t fair.
“I guess I get to return the favor now.”
“I’m not eating that disgusting concoction you call soup.”
I snicker lightly while standing up, noticing the empty bottle of water at his feet. Before I make it to the fridge, I hear the door opening and shutting.
“Ethan?” a woman calls out, causing me to tense. “Ethan, honey, where are you? Wren said you were sick.”
Who the hell is this chick?
I wander out of the kitchen in time to hear Ethan groan like he’s ready to hide, and I watch as a very curvy, regal, older woman walks toward him.
Oh my damn. That has to be his moth
er.
“I’m fine,” he lies, batting her hand away as she tries to touch his forehead. She came through the front instead of the back, where I parked. Apparently she doesn’t know I’m here.
“You’re not fine, sweaty boy. Why didn’t you tell me you were sick?”
I prop against the wall, thoroughly enjoying this little show. Ethan, the badass, surly, somewhat arrogant man is about to be babied by his mommy. Aww.
“Mom, please go. I have one person here already, so I’m good. I’m not in the mood for—stop feeling my head!”
“You’re running a fever.”
Ethan cuts his eyes toward me and glares when he notices me leaning against the wall and smiling like I just found the Holy Grail. His mother follows his line of view, and her eyes widen when she sees me.
Damn. Wish I had changed out of my scrubs now.
“You must be Ethan’s mystery girl,” she says, standing as a broad smile crosses her face.
“I’m Bella,” I tell her, moving closer to awkwardly stick my hand out for a handshake.
My breath is knocked out of me when she pretty much throws her arms around me and hugs me like I’m a long lost friend. Ethan mutters something under his breath before covering his head with his arm.
“You’re absolutely perfect,” the hugging woman says as she releases me.
I smile, because she’s totally not at all what I expected. Most of the elite mothers aren’t so… adorable?
Her short hair is bouncy and styled to perfection, but she looks like a little girl who just got her first doll when she stares at me. Her eyes pretty much go over me from head to toe, as though she’s checking for any flaws, but she’s too busy smiling to make me feel uncomfortable. Well, I’m a little uncomfortable.