Worth It All (All #3)

by Marie Wathen

  Earning the respect of not only the Collins family, but figuring out how to become the man Waverly deserves, is my second mission. I sure as hell don’t know how to make that one happen, so it will have to wait out her blackout.

  Breesan’s father, Brendt or Max, I’m not sure which one he prefers to go by, leans back in the leather chair next to his daughter hospital bed. The light from the hallway spills in and he stirs. Cayde rests in a small chair between father and daughter, with her head lying on Breesan’s bed, holding her hand tenderly, affectionately like a mother would.

  “Hey,” I whisper, entering and shutting the door behind me. He pushes up, runs a hand through his hair and then drags it down his unshaven face. Feeling shitty for disturbing their sleep, I offer, “I can come back.”

  “No, please stay.” He shakes his head and waves me inside. “She’ll be awake soon. I hope.”

  Moving around her bed, I take the empty seat across from him and look over at the sleeping doll, looking so peaceful, all except for a tiny pinch of anxiety displaying on her forehead with a crinkle between her brows. Always so distressed.

  After a lengthy silence of just watching the rise and fall of her chest, Brendt stands and kisses Breesan on her cheek. “I’m going out for coffee. Have me paged if she wakes up?” he asks and I nod.

  Deciding that I need answers, I follow him out. “Mr. Maxwell.” He twists around and waits for me to catch up. “Have you heard from him?”

  Cutting his eyes toward his daughter’s room, he sighs and then looks back at me. “I’ll let the nurse know that we’re going down for coffee.” He instructs the head nurse to call him, and we venture down to the cafeteria, located on the bottom level. Settling into a private corner, he shares more than I ever expected. “Your brother is coming in today. Things are going according to plan. He must verify for himself that she’s here and stable, and then he won’t return until the next phase is put into action.”

  “Explain some things to me,” I start. “What is the ultimate outcome here? I’m confused by what this will accomplish.”

  He sighs. “Morgan, there is a lot of history that would take forever to get into.”

  “This is my brother’s life, not to mention, your daughters, too, that is being threatened,” I point out, growing angry. “Let’s pretend for a moment that I can actually help you with the case. Tell me how all of this shit started and what role Marcus must play to make it stop.”

  “I’m saving most of this for Breesan. She needs to know everything before I get into it with you, but I will tell you that Marcus chose this.” I narrow my eyes at him, curiously. “He is leaving Willow Island behind and pursuing the trail that will lead him to the manufacturing location. Once that is secured, he will report back to me. It could take months before he earns enough trust to receive this information though, and I am afraid that Breesan can’t know his whereabouts, or why he has left her. She must believe that he’s ending their relationship and never returning for her.” Marcus explained it all to me, but right now I feel like I’ve been throat punched, thinking about how much pain they will both suffer from this horrible plan. Seeing my distress, Max confides, “It sickens me to think about all the hell that she’s already suffered at the hands of such evil. Ripping her heart apart isn’t something that I take pleasure in, Morgan. Unfortunately, this…suffering doesn’t end until we get that location.”

  Piecing everything together, I scan the hardness of his leathered face, made that way only by years of shear hell, and recognize a penance swelling within his silver eyes. “You weren’t captured in Afghanistan, were you?”

  “Technically, yes. After only being in country for a week, I was out on guard duty when a small child ambled up to the edge of our perimeter.”

  “I thought you were a Captain,” I question his role in guarding a border, like the job was beneath his responsibility.

  “Correct, but I wouldn’t ask my men to do something that I wasn’t willing to do. Anyway, I instructed her to leave, but she began crying and begging for food. She looked so much like Breesan, with the same big gray eyes, that I couldn’t turn her away. I fed her from the stash in my pocket. While keeping a watchful eye out for anyone waiting to attack, I had her sit and she ate the food quietly. I waited with her, wondering if her mother would come searching all while preparing for this scenario to be something more than just a little girl lost. Two hours went by, she fell asleep next to a tree, and no one came for the little one. My relief arrived later, and I explained the situation. He called me a fool and warned that I was risking more than my life if I didn’t send her off into the dark woods alone.” I nod.

  “Going against policy, I carried her in the direction she pointed out as home. Thirty minutes later, I was jumped and drugged. When I woke up again, I was inside the Renaissance Castle, chained to the walls down inside the dungeon.” I know my mouth is hanging open at this point, but Brendt is completely unaware of everything, as he recounts the nightmarish events with dead eyes. “My brother came to visit me first. Declan told me that the reason he brought me here was to get the fortune our mother left behind. I explained to him that I didn’t have it and that I will never have access to it.” He glances up at me, pain possessing his features.

  “Julia came to see him that night and she brought my daughter along. I remember seeing the utter fear winding up in her tiny little body and I was scared to death of what they would do. Not to me, but to that innocent baby. I left off the part where Breesan would be the only benefactor of the Andrews family estate. It didn’t matter what I told him. He was never letting me out of that hellhole. Unfortunately, they were smart and planned for that contingence, too, and used her as a weapon against me. Declan told me how they prepared to ruin her, piece by piece, through her friendships. Somewhat relieved that they wouldn’t lay a finger on her, I refused to play his evil game so he began testing the prototype of some new version of Ryske right there in the dark, musky room, using me as his guinea pig.”

  “Fuck,”

  He nods. “Originally, that poison was only meant for me. My brother’s hopes were that I would become some brainless minion, who he could control, earning himself access to the money. Those first few years were pure hell. I was dosed so many times that I lost count after the first month. Each batch fashioned some new acidic effect on my mind and my body. I was sick or unconscious most of the time, which really pissed him off. His first reaction was to kill me, and he nearly did, too. He left me a bloody mess, lying on the dirt-covered floor. Cayde took over as caretaker shortly after. She dosed me, but she slowly backed off the amount of drugs he was shipping to her. He had no idea, because he refused to face me again. She rescued me, nursed me and then helped me escape. It took a lot of time, but I healed and then I began formulating a plan to bring Dr. A down.”

  Shaking his head, probably trying to obliterate the sting of those disgusting memories, he takes a slow sip of his steaming coffee before he diverts the subject, “Do you know how happy I was when I discovered that you and your brother were back in my daughter’s life? Well, of course I knew Marcus was watching her. I set him up on that detail. But when she accepted the invitation to your welcome home party, I felt a twinge of satisfaction. Everything my pathetic brother tried to do to destroy her failed.”

  “Back?” I ask, confused by his question. “I didn’t meet Breesan until that evening.”

  “That’s not true.” He smiles. “As a matter of fact, you were supposed to marry her.”

  “What?” I choke.

  He laughs, placing his cup on the coaster in front of him. “You really don’t remember?” I shake my head and he explains, “Well, I suppose at eight years old, you don’t really mean everything you say. Thirteen years ago, you were leaving at the end of summer to live in England.” I nod, remembering that time very well. “You and my daughter, along with Anna and Tristan came up with a plan to keep you here.” He smirks. “The way she explained it to me she was going to marry you because husba
nds can’t leave their wives behind.” He chuckles deeply, staring down at his fingers, fingering the rim of his cup, and then shakes his head. “I convinced her that she didn’t need to get married and that was the last time we ever discussed the matter.”

  “Are you certain that it was me she was talking about?” I stare at him hard, trying to remember the events which he described, but come up completely blank. “After all, she was only five, right?”

  “At the time, I believe you went by the nicknames, Bones?” I nod and he adds, “Bones McGee?”

  A huge smile stretches across my face and I shake my head. “I was Bones, but Marcus was McGee. It was another crazy nickname that Tristan pulled out of thin-air. It must have been him that she planned to marry back then.”

  His eyes narrow in and he asks, “You’re sure?”

  “Positive.” Leaning my back against the chair, I nod and smirk. “I didn’t really like girls back then. But, I recall Marcus spending a lot of time hanging out with Tristan and Anna the summer before we moved. Sometimes I would go play too, but I preferred going into WC with my dad.” I pause, feeling a crush of guilt falling down on me. “I guess the names got jumbled and since we’re twins, it’s an easy mix-up.”

  “Well, damn,” he mumbles, “Apparently, she was in love with Marcus way back then.”

  I remember that he used to beg our parents to let him go back to Willow. It really didn’t make much difference to me where we lived, but Marcus felt like he belonged back home on the island. I guess that’s because he left his heart there. It’s totally unfair that he must risk everything, Breesan and quite possibly his own life, in order to put an end to all of this suffering, and yet, he will surely lose the one thing that he has wanted his whole life.

  “Tell me,” I start, trying to find the right words, “What role is he playing?”

  He sighs and then looks me straight in the eyes. “This goes no further than this table. Understand?” I nod and he confesses, “Marcus will be used as a token to destroy Breesan.”

  “What the fuck?” I growl deeply, disturbed by this scenario. “No!”

  “It is sick and disgusting, but there is only one thing left that will reach my daughter, forcing her to give up everything that she is entitled to.”

  “Marcus?”

  “Yes,” he states flatly.

  “But, why? Declan is dead. Is Tox is going to carry on his father’s legacy?” Without looking at me, he shakes his head and I ask, “He will destroy his own cousin?”

  “It isn’t Tox, who plans to use every means necessary to break down my child purely for my family’s fortune,” he tells me. “Casandria Madison, Breesan’s mother, is the evil behind this entire wicked plan. She is Dr. A.”

  “She’s Dr. A?” Holy, mother of pearl.

  After that serious barrage of pure mind-blowing information, I sit motionless and only respond occasionally with a head bob as he shares more details. He ends his tale, instructing me to keep my mouth shut and then we say our goodbyes, him going up to see his daughter and me heading out of the hospital in search of a good stiff drink. Reaching the sliding door, leading out to the parking garage, I catch my mirror image staring back at me through the glass door. Looking with renewed vision, I realize how much I’ve lost and what the future holds. I love Waverly and want nothing more than to be the man that she deserves, when she awakens. As of right now, I’m not worthy of any woman, much less the most amazing woman that I’ve ever known. Hearing the atrocious lengths at which Marcus is willing to go for the woman that he loves, I come to the conclusion that there is only one thing I can do. Sitting around here on my ass, while my brother risks his life to save Breesan most certainly isn’t it.

  Apparently, her mother will stop at nothing to destroy that beautiful, sweet girl. On top of her hateful-things-to-do list is making Breesan believe that my brother no longer loves her, just so she can take advantage of her weakened state later. She expects Breesan to curl into herself again, shutting out everyone who cares for her. They say that you can’t die from a broken heart, but with the way I feel right now, I call bullshit. This whole plan to get Marcus inside with Casandria and gain her trust so that she’ll eventually disclose the location of her pharmaceutical plant is one of the worst ideas that I have ever heard. Because I care for them both, I simply won’t allow him to sacrifice himself, when everything he wants is right here, alive and waiting. She needs him desperately if she’s going to face the hell that waits on the horizon.

  Epilogue

  Breesan

  Sitting on a concrete seat, tucked under the adjoining cold slab table in the middle of the quad at the University of Miami, I have my nose stuck in one of the literary assignments that is required this quarter. I delve in and am teleported into the life of the heroine, battling against evil paranormal forces that she accidently discovers living amongst the clueless humans. Warm air flutters loose strands of hair into my face, and as I glance up, I spot a pair of leaves dancing across the table’s edge in front of me.

  My mind drifts back to a night, no so long ago, where the man that I once loved with my entire being held me in his arms and swayed me around my bedroom in almost the same manor.

  Marcus.

  I miss those stunning green eyes desperately. The way he breathed my name while he made love devotedly, claiming my body and stealing the essence of all of me, piece by piece. I miss the sweet silence that was so comfortable between us. The feel of lightening zapping along my hot flesh from his fingertips, trailing along my curves, branded me as his. But, mostly I miss the look of complete respect he gave, especially while we worked together, trying to find the third suspect in the abductions. All of these are things that I can’t forget, no matter how hard I try. Every night, my dreams are haunted by his soul calling out for me, promising that it will all be okay.

  My heart squeezes from the reminiscences of my love affair with Marcus, and then immediately I remember that my forever died that night on a balcony with his betrayal. It is incomparable bliss that I know I will never be released from, because he’s not waiting on the outside of my dream. He’s gone. A pathetic tear slips off of my bottom eyelashes. Freaking get it together, Breesan! Marcus is gone. You are going to be oaky without him. You will be happy again – one day.

  I’ve been swallowing handfuls of ‘get-the-hell-over-it-already,’ for weeks, but it’s no longer working. Broken doesn’t even come close to describing how I feel now that all the dark lies are exposed by the light. Yes I am damaged. Hell, who wouldn’t be? But now, I’m something else.

  I’m changed.

  A bump against my arm jars me out of my torturous memories and I glance up, seeing Jama DeBlasi smiling brightly. “Hey, Bea,” she says, glaring down at the title of my book disapprovingly, then asks, “Why are you alone out here?”

  I was fortunate to meet Jama last month at the Walker anniversary party, before moving off for college recently. She’s really sweet, a bit of a loner, like me, and she is the only person that I know here. Although she is familiar with what the gossip tabloids told the world about my scandalous life, she doesn’t know details and that’s the way I need things between us. Leaving everyone and all of my heartache behind me on Willow Island wasn’t easy, but it is absolutely necessary, if I want to get my shit straight.

  “I’m just trying to play catch-up on my English assignment,” I lie, because I will never give voice to the power Marcus has over me ever again. I’m stronger. “I’m lucky that the university made an exception with my delayed admission, and I won’t disappoint them by slacking off.”

  “Exception?” She giggles. “A hefty donation can be very persuasive. Oooh, speaking of slacking off,” she mumbles, glancing behind me while smiling brightly. “Hi, Z.”

  A guy wearing black Dr. Marteens, a pair of faded and slashed jeans, and a Simple Plan concert tee-shirt walks over, looking directly at Jama. I’ve noticed him around campus several times. Usually, he’s somewhere nearby, slathered in beautiful wome
n. Z is a gorgeous guy with dark blonde hair, sprinkled with ginger-tinted streaks that remind me of Tristan’s gorgeous locks.

  “Hi Jama,” Z replies, taking the seat beside her. They begin chatting about some of the local clubs, and he tells her about a hot new band playing at one of them tonight. With him distracting her, I slip off into a world that I have been trying to avoid for weeks.

  A lump forms in my chest, remembering how devastated I was the day I woke up in the hospital and heard about all of the horrible wounds that my friends suffered at the hands of my evil mother because of me - because of the money my grandmother left for me.

  Since leaving Willow, I’ve only allowed contact with two people: Kole and Anna. At my request, and for his sanity’s sake, Kole checks in daily with a text message. Also, he calls me weekly, allowing me to keep tabs on everyone that I care about back on the island, from a distance. Also, with him staying connected, maybe a part of me is hoping that at some point he and Jama will have an opportunity to reunite. They had a budding romance a few years ago, that apparently involved a love-triangle. She doesn’t like talking about it, and even though I care for both of them, I will never press the issue and make her share the juicy bits. In this way, she’s very much like me.

  The best day of Anna’s life, since being taken away by hired gunmen, was my absolute worst. My best friend moved to Paris the day I came home from the hospital. Refusing to discuss what happened since her abduction, we had a few hours to talk about old times, cry and laugh, all while holding each other. Then we mapped out a plan to visit as our schedules will allow. When our time was up, I insisted on accompanying her to the airport where we refused to say those two final words. Even after all the hell that I endured recently, Anna’s send-off was one of the hardest moments of my life. I’m not sure how I managed it, but I held back the tears, watching her board the plane, leaving me behind.