TARA (The Trouble Sisters Saga Book 2)

by Taylor Lee

  Tara struggled to breathe. She was grateful that she was able to get any air in or out of her constricted lungs. The only part of her that hurt more than her scrabbling-for-air-lungs was her heart. It wasn’t hard to know why. The devastated expression on Griffin’s face was more than reason enough. She was shocked that she’d been unaware of the terrible things that had been happening in his life. She knew she was a private person, but apparently Griffin had her beat by miles, if not eons. That she didn’t know any of the things that he had been dealing with was frightening. Forcing herself to think about him, not why he hadn’t told her any of this, she said softly, “I . . . I’m so sorry, Griffin. I . . . I didn’t know . . . anything . . . ”

  He blew out a hard snort. “How could you, Tara? To put it mildly, I’ve been in a bit of a crisis mode. Unfortunately, my tendency in a disaster—be it professional or personal, is to close down, to become even more detached than usual.” He shook his head and said bitterly, “Let’s just say I’m a master at compartmentalization.”

  He was quiet for a long moment, then met her troubled gaze and said softly, “The difference this time was that you happened . . . ”

  Determined to keep the focus on him, not on her dismay at what he’d been going through, a hard thought caught her off balance. Before Tara could stop them, the words flew from her lips. “Griffin, are you telling me that all those calls, the texts, you sent . . . the ones I didn’t accept . . . That you were telling me what was happening to you? What you were going through?”

  He breathed out another audible sigh. “Yeah, I was. At least in the beginning. It was an anomaly for me. I had never done that before. But something happened to me that night with you, Tara. As it did to you. We just handled it differently. For the first time in my life, I reached out.”

  Tara shook her head and said grimly, “And I acted true to form. I closed down.”

  Griffin nodded in agreement. “Yeah, you did. But then after you’d rebuffed me a few dozen times, I reverted to my form. I got madder than hell and was determined to let you know that no one blows off the great Griffin Black. Especially the woman who has gotten under his skin in a way that no one else ever has.”

  They were silent for a few long moments, then Griffin rose to his feet and began making a production of building a fire in the outdoor fireplace. Tara watched him silently, deeply troubled by what he’d told her about his ex-wife and children. Knowing what she knew now, she was horrified that she’d refused to answer his calls when he’d reached out to her. What frightened her even more was what she’d done since that auspicious night. Today, after all the intimate things they’d done, once again she’d verbally assaulted him. Accused him of fucking her so that he could get her to support his project. Even when she said the ugly words, she knew they weren’t true. But as she’d consistently done in her past, she’d tried to protect herself from what she was sure would be a certain hurt. Even as she was castigating herself for her destructive behavior, she reminded herself that she was the one who’d stopped him when he started to leave. She was the one who’d said when he threatened to take her, “If that’s what you think you should do, what I deserve, what’s stopping you?” She smiled a watery smile, remembering how emphatically he’d shown her that nothing, including her bad behavior, would stop him.

  Having finished building a raging fire, Griffin moved next to her, a grin lighting his face. “May I be so bold as to hope that smile has to do with something I said or better yet, something I did?”

  Tara returned his grin and agreed succinctly. “Both.”

  He topped off their glasses of wine, then opened another bottle and sank down on the sofa beside her. Raising his glass to her, he said, “To the future, Tara. A future in which two wildly self-protective people have the courage to reach out to one another. When they’re hurt and even when they’re not.”

  Tara pressed her lips together, determined not to cry. Instead, she gave him a tentative smile. “Ditto.”

  Allowing the silence to settle over them, Tara gave in to the depth of her feelings. Then, not wanting the moment to go by, she asked carefully, “Tell me about your wife—your ex-wife—and . . . your children.”

  Griffin breathed out an audible sigh, and just when Tara concluded that he wouldn’t confide in her, he said with a dispassionate shrug, “It’s an old story, Tara. I’d just returned from Iraq. I’d seen every evil thing that hellhole could show me, and I was as hard and disillusioned as ninety-nine percent of the grunts who leave the force. Carolyn and I had connected before my last tour. When I got out, she was intrigued by my medals—at least her father was—and we hooked up again. Charles Mason was a New York real estate magnet and saw the promise of my commendations. Apparently, he thought they would make up for my otherwise unassuming background. Let’s just say that growing up in a rat-infested neighborhood with a single mother who was on the pipe wasn’t an auspicious background for a potential suitor for his privileged daughter. The army changed all that. An invite to the White House and a purple heart convinced him that I just might be worthy of his only daughter after all.”

  Griffin took a long pull on his wine, then shrugged. “In a crazy way, I might have been a reasonably good real estate magnate. In Iraq, I’d headed up what became one of the most lauded development projects in that war-torn country. Memories of the way that our unit radically changed a bombed-out city for the better made four-martini lunches at the Core Club, where the annual income of its members is in the top point one percent of all households in the country, seem pedestrian. Let’s just say I was too much of an outsider and rebel to toe the line. Within a couple of years, to the fury of my father-in-law, I bolted. I headed out West to check out some land a former Delta Force buddy told me about.

  “The project was a bust. I lost over a million dollars, essentially an entire year’s salary. My father-in-law never forgave me for blackening his name. Ultimately, neither did his daughter. Brooke was turning two and Hunter was born a few months later. Unfortunately, the lure of the land was as strong as ever. After months of looking, I discovered a piece of land in Oklahoma that had promise. I tried to convince Carolyn that she would love the West. Moreover, that I hated New York—especially the elite, multi-million dollar New York she craved. By that time Hunter was a year old and, given the intensity of the project I was developing, I’d seen him all of four times. Carolyn—make that her father—gave me an ultimatum. Get my head out of my ass and get back to where I belonged or our marriage was over. Unfortunately, in my mind, it already was.”

  Griffin was silent, then said with a shrug, “We never could have made it work, but I’m embarrassed to say I didn’t try. I’d found my true love—my development projects—and I never looked back.”

  Tara held her breath, waiting for him to continue. But Griffin had stopped talking and looked as though he was done telling his story. She hesitated, then said carefully, “You said that you were close to your children. When did that happen?”

  Griffin frowned and then seemed to remember that he’d told her about his children earlier. He nodded and said with a sneer, “When did that happen? When did I realize that there might be more than making money and becoming a world-renowned land developer? Hmm, believe it or not, it was our mutual friend Robert Redhorse, not Carolyn’s father, who helped me get my head out of my ass. Apparently, he saw more depth in me than I did in myself. He convinced me that the reason all the little Native kids chased after me was because I was a natural leader who loved kids. When I told him how wrong he was, and that I hadn’t seen my own kids for over a year at that point, he convinced me it wasn’t too late. While Brooke and Hunter made it clear that he was right, that they were thrilled to have me back in their lives, my ex-wife and her family weren’t. Even though the annual alimony I pay her is the equivalent of the GNP of a small country and covers everything for the kids, Carolyn and her father fought me tooth and nail in court. Did everything they could to curtail my visiting rights. I finally went back to c
ourt and won the right to see my son and daughter at least once a month. Which I’ve done from that time on.”

  Griffin stopped talking, then turned a troubled gaze on Tara. His voice was soft, strained. “In truth, I saw what Carolyn was becoming. I grew up in a house with a drugged-out, addicted mother. I knew the signs all too well. But I didn’t want to rock the boat. I knew my former father-in-law would go to ground to prevent me from getting custody of my children. Out of revenge if for nothing else. He never forgave me for becoming the success that I did. Christ, my current income is tenfold what his is today.”

  At that moment, Griffin rose to his feet and began pacing across the deck. Tara held her breath, not knowing how to reach out to him, to let him know that she was here and wasn’t going anywhere. Apparently, her presence did the trick because he whirled on her and said sharply, “You want to hear the worst of it, Tara? Want to know what an arrogant asshole I truly am?”

  When she nodded, he hesitated, then shrugged. “Fine, here goes. The last time I was there, Brooke told me that her mother was ‘sick’ all the time. When I pushed her, she admitted that Carolyn was drinking a lot and that she and her friends were doing ‘other’ drugs in front of the children. Now, Brooke is only ten, but she’s smart, and living in the house that she does, I was confident she knew what she was talking about. I started making plans, consulted a high-powered attorney who agreed that I had more than enough grounds to change the court’s custody ruling.” Griffin stopped pacing and turned a hard gaze on her. “Are you sure you’re ready for this, Tara?” When she just nodded, Griffin blew out a sigh that sounded more like a groan, then continued. “Apparently, Caroline, or her father—probably both, heard through their elevated grapevine that I was making a move. Which is when Caroline decided to overdose. And to make sure that it was her traitorous ten-year-old daughter who found her. To ensure that she scarred her child for life, the note she left said she didn’t want to live if the court stole her children from her and gave them to her cheating ex-husband.”

  Griffin shook his head and blew out a weary sigh. “You can be sure that Charles Mason made sure that Hunter, and especially Brooke, saw that note.”

  ****

  Griffin stopped pacing, then after tossing another log on the blazing fire, he walked back to the sofa and sank down beside her. After refilling his glass, he pinned a thoughtful gaze on her.

  “I hadn’t thought about it before, Tara, but in a way, Caroline is a lot like your mother, at least what your father told me. That was when I told him how lucky he was that he has three daughters, all of whom lived with him and, now as adult women, adore him.”

  Tara startled. “When . . . when did you talk to my father?”

  Realizing that the sheriff hadn’t told Tara about his visit, Griffin tried to downplay it, not wanting to compromise her father. He gave a careless shrug. “Hmm, he came to visit me after your trauma in the elevator. I guess he wanted to see if I was as arrogant an asshole as my previews indicated. I must have reassured him when I told him I was humbled by your fear and that I was glad I was with you in the elevator and that he should be too.” When she frowned at him as if knowing that there was more, Griffin reconsidered. Given that he’d just unloaded a boatload of his crap on her, he decided it wouldn’t hurt to know a little more about her.

  “Let’s just say that your father is a taciturn fellow, not given to unnecessary words. Actually, we had a good conversation. When I told him that I also had children but that I only got to see them rarely, a fact due to the way I abandoned them when they were young, he sympathized with me. Said he’d never forgive himself for some of the things he’d done when you girls were young. He told me that his biggest mistake was that he tried so hard to prevent his wife from leaving that she nearly caused irreparable harm to his daughters. He specifically said that he blamed himself for not preventing his wife from hurting you.”

  Tara closed her eyes, not wanting to acknowledge his intense gaze. After a long moment, she managed to say, “What else did my father say?”

  Griffin raised his hands. “That was it. As you know well, Tara, your father doesn’t waste words and he didn’t then. He simply said that he was glad I was with you in the elevator and that now he could sleep better than he’d earlier thought he would.”

  After waiting for a long moment to see if she would open up to him, Griffin asked carefully, “Any chance you want to talk about that, sweetheart?”

  After a silent moment, she just shook her head and curtly said, “Not really.”

  He must have telegraphed his concern because she whirled back to face him and with a forced, blasé shrug said, “Let’s just say that after the third time she locked me in a steamer trunk while she did her drugged-out buddies, I got enough courage to tell my dad. That night was the last time I ever saw my mother. I was five, Tatiana was three, and Tanya wasn’t even walking yet. They don’t know what happened. They were young enough to accept whatever my dad said. It was our secret. We decided to keep it that way.” She hesitated and then said with a narrow frown, “Until my dad decided to tell you.”

  Griffin shook his head. “No, honey, he didn’t tell me specifically what happened, just that your mother hurt you and that he blamed himself.”

  Seeing the emotional struggle playing out on her expressive face, Griffin decided to push her, see if he could get her to talk. Horrified at what her mother had done to her, he was confident that Tara had buried her trauma as deeply as he was afraid his daughter might have. He decided, at least with Tara, he had a chance to help her deal with it.

  Reaching for her hand, he pulled her up next to him. “Christ, sweetheart, no wonder you were scared to death in that elevator. Damn, it really was a good thing that I was there.”

  Tara glanced up at him, her flushed cheeks and trembling lips confirmed that she was reliving the trauma. When he rubbed her back and tugged her closer to him, she met his gaze and blew out a hard sigh.

  “I was surprised how hard it hit me, Griffin.” She was quiet for a moment, then stopped gnawing on her bottom lip long enough to say, “I . . . I’ve been thinking a lot about it. In a weird way, Griffin, I think I let down and gave in to my terror because you were there. It was as though at some subconscious level, I knew you’d help me. And . . . you did. At least I didn’t fall completely apart.”

  “No, sweetheart, you didn’t. After some challenging moments, you actually let me hold you, then you did as I told you to do.” He hesitated and added with a heartfelt groan, “Christ, honey, then when I carted you off to my house, I tied you and blindfolded you.” When she flushed more deeply, he added with another hard groan, “I guess we were both pushing out the boundaries. Even then I knew I was falling for you, Tara. I needed you to trust me. But little did I know the ramparts I was forcing you to scale.”

  She nodded and then said in a thoughtful tone, “But I let you. No, it was more than that. I wanted you to do what you did. In some crazy way, I did trust you. And . . . and I wanted you to do all the things you did to me. It was as though I’d been waiting all of my life for you, Griffin. For a man who would do the things that you did to me, as outrageous as they were.”

  Chapter 18

  After they’d finished the second bottle of wine and Tara was beginning to get sleepy, Griffin picked her up and carried her into the bedroom. She was beginning to doze off when she looked up to see him coming from the bathroom. He’d clearly just gotten out of the shower. His sweats hung low on his hips, and he was naked from the waist up. Seeing his bare torso, her heart leapt into her throat. Tara shook her head in wonder. Dear God, he was truly a work of art. Tall and lean, his arms and chest rippled with rigid muscles. As he closed in on her, the smell of his masculine body imbued with a faint whiff of expensive cologne had her gasping for air. Gleaming with a light sheen of moisture, his warm, tanned skin glowed, underscoring the contrast with his startling emerald eyes.

  She was so caught up in admiring his stunning body, it took Tara a moment t
o see his rigid jaw and the dark frown tightening his face. Startled, she realized that he almost looked angry. Not sure what had happened, she rose up on her elbows and scooted to the top of the bed. Drawing the sheet up to her chin, she forced herself to ask, “Is . . . is something wrong, Griffin?”

  His frown deepening, he said curtly, “Yeah, there is. Tomorrow I have to take you home. Let you go.” When she pulled back, he hesitated, then moved closer to the bed. His voice was low, layered with a mix of emotions that she couldn’t identify. Anger was clearly among them, but so was anguish. Before she could ask him what was wrong, he said, “But before I do, before I let you go, I need to confirm that you are mine . . . and that I am yours.” Sitting down on the edge of the bed, he captured her gaze with his fierce one. “I need to take you, Tara, as intimately and outrageously as possible.” As he spoke, he tossed several tubes of what looked like ointment on the bed. Glancing at the writing on the closest tube, her heart tripped. Forcing her voice to sound calm, she said, “I . . . I don’t understand. You look angry. Did I do something wrong?”

  He shook his head and groaned. “God, no, honey. You couldn’t have done anything more right than you already have. This is about me, Tara. I need to claim you. In every way possible.”

  Glancing at the other tube, Tara understood what he was saying. Meeting his hard gaze, she pulled back and shook her head. “I . . . I don’t know if I can do that, Griffin. I really don’t. I wouldn’t have a clue . . . ” Seeing the intent in his stormy, sea-green eyes, her words trailed off to nothingness.

  His voice was soft, his words comforting. “I know you don’t, sweetheart, but I do. I’ll show you how, and, Tara, I know you don’t believe me now, but I promise you, you will feel things you never knew that you could feel.”

  Swallowing hard, Tara tried to ignore the sensations that were streaking across her thighs at the thought of what she now realized he intended to do. Shoving at the unwanted fiery sparks lighting her core, she shook her head fiercely. “No, Griffin, I really don’t think I want to do this . . . ”