The muscles in the back of my head strain, locking up my neck and shoulders. My palms tingle and sweat. I’m slowly being sucked back into the darkness of all I’ve abandoned, everyone I’ve hurt. My throat aches and burns. I want to swallow. I need to take a breath. But I will not lose my shit in the middle of a fuckin’ strip club.
Mind over matter.
Gray spots blur my peripheral vision, and my chest feels pinched.
Once upon a time, Ryan was my brother. I have fucked up life to the point where I can’t fix it. Shit. I pull a breath through my teeth. Fuck me. Fuck me. Goddamn. This will not happen now.
I pinch my eyes closed as my heartbeat slams in my chest so loudly the whole damn establishment must think there’s a mortar attack. I push myself to pivot away from Ryan and squeeze my eyes tighter than before.
Mortar attack… the blasts, the blood—morbid memories floor my senses. It’s all I can concentrate on. I picture Maddox’s face as he reached for me—as if I could save his life. Goddamn it.
My fists ball in my pockets until I think my hands will crush themselves.
A hand claps hard on my back. I’m in a complete spiral, falling apart within eyeshot of those I am desperate to impress. I stagger away in the same direction Sarah went. I can’t clear my head enough to look for an exit, but I need to escape. My steps wobble—I know they do. I can’t stop that. But I growl forward, focusing on my breaths and footsteps, trying to survive this moment.
That hand claps my back again, even though I’m moving. At least, I think I am. Shit. This is so bad. But I have complete tunnel vision and can only follow Sarah’s way out.
A weight leans against me—no, I lean against it. Somehow, I move with purpose toward the back hall, away from Emma, away from Titan and Delta. They don’t need to see this. My head hangs low. I’m panicked and ashamed, but when I look up—it’s Ryan.
I seal my eyes shut. My breaths heave through my clenched teeth.
“Open your eyes, man.”
Anguish and anger torment me—I can hear the explosions ripping my team to bloody pieces—and I can’t get away from my own mind. I can’t stop thinking about everything I’ve screwed up.
“I’ve got you, brother.” The words are quiet. But God, they are strong.
His hands are on my shoulders. My mind desperately wants to stop living in the past. My knuckles ache, and the pain centers me and tears me away from their last breaths… I’ve got you, brother. My heart slowly slides from my throat, and I take what feels like the first breath I’ve had in days. Then I take another, and I open my eyes.
Ryan drops his hands and backs away a few steps. We’re alone. I fill my lungs completely and drop my head back. “Fuck me.”
Seconds tick by…
“It was bad over there.” He doesn’t really ask me but just kind of acknowledges the hell I lived.
I nod. “Yup.”
“That happen a lot?”
I don’t answer.
He looks toward the lit end of the hall, where it opens to the main floor. “No one noticed.”
I drop my gaze to my shoes. “I’ve fucked my life so many ways, I don’t know how to fix it.”
“Nah. It’s fixable.” Ryan shifts, shaking his head, and crosses his arms. “We both care about her.”
I nod.
“And we both carry a huge burden for her.”
I have to laugh. It comes out sad and angry. “Think I’ve got you beat on that one.”
“Yeah.” He tilts his head back. “See, this is where I fucked up: back in high school, I was a cocky ass. You too. Right? And she was—God, Emma’s always been so sweet… I didn’t get you and her. I liked it and wanted that, ’cause it made her happy, but I didn’t see… the whole thing.” He sighs and knocks his head against the wall. “When you were gone, I could have killed you. When she cried on my bed—it slaughtered me. And that conversation, that she was knocked up… shit.”
A lump forms in my throat.
Ryan clears his voice. “I forgot that you and I were boys. That you grew up as my brother.”
“I left. I deserve that. Abandoned every fuckin’ person.”
“It didn’t cross my mind that you loved her—even though we were close friends. A you-and-her long-term thing? I was too young to understand anything of that magnitude. But her pregnant and heartbroken?” He drops his arms then cracks his knuckles. “What I’m trying to say is I pushed for you two to hang out back in the day, and now I’ve done the opposite. And really, I need to step the hell away.”
His words hang in the air as I think back. Since we’re airing memories, I speak up. “There was a lot going on back then. Since I was a kid, Pops would beat the crap out of me.” I rub my temples. “I ran from that. That’s why I left. I might’ve been the person you knew when I was at school or around your family, but at home, I was worthless. Except when I was with her.”
I sigh, letting my eyes close and my mind drift back to the night at the beach house—the night I almost didn’t run.
Emma’s warm body wraps around me under the blankets, and I watch her sleep. The things you notice when trying to memorize someone… her breaths are sleepy and soft. Her lips curl slightly as she holds onto me. Hours have passed. I meant to leave at midnight, then two in the morning, then four. But now dawn is pushing through the night. The darkness from the window is a purply blue. Moving from this bed is literally the hardest step I’ve taken in my life.
But we promised: no goodbyes. She wants and needs a good life, free from people like me who come from places like the ones I come from and who have to hide their real lives from their best friends…
In one push, I roll away and turn back. That soft smile on her sleeping face fades. She’s still asleep, but it’s not just an expressionless dreaming face.
I cannot believe this is how it ends. “I love you, Emma.”
But she’ll go to college. Get a degree. Maybe stay away from stupid Summerland County and go… I don’t know. Become a famous photographer or a Broadway dancer. She can be anything she wants without the likes of me to hold her down.
I let my fingers run over her cheek and—her sleepy smile returns. I capture that image in my mind and turn before letting go, not daring to risk seeing the loss of that smile.
I grab my shirt, find a pair of pants, tuck everything into a backpack, and can’t help but turn around. Her smile is gone, as if even in her sleep she knows I’m leaving her.
Screw it. I’ve kept too much inside, and it hasn’t worked out well for me. “You were my family.”
Ryan nods.
“Pops was miserable. He taught me nothing and tried to ruin me. But man, your dad’s the one that taught me how to live. I might’ve missed some of it without him. I needed to figure out how to…” I shake my head, trying to find the words. “How to undo the deep scars I got from the bastard who raised me. Your dad didn’t tell me how to live or how to handle my problems, but he did let me watch. And he let me participate in your life.” I take a breath. “Anyway, Emma and Cally are my family now.”
Silence hangs between us. Ryan works his jaw back and forth. “I had no idea.”
“Why would you?”
His forehead furrows. “I just thought Pops was a prick… maybe? Shit.”
“Don’t try to figure it out. The bastard isn’t worth it.”
Ryan’s voice is low. “God, man. I’m sorry.” He concentrates on me, and an earnest confidence crosses his face. “Families make mistakes. They walk away. They come back.” His eyes narrow. “And blood doesn’t make a family.”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Grayson
As if those were the words I needed to hear, the weight of guilt recedes. Blood doesn’t make a family, and I’ve known that my whole life but never realized it. “Are we good?”
Ryan throws his hand out. “Yeah.”
That’s all that needs saying. We shake on it. “Alright then.”
He dips his head, nodding toward the open room
where Jared and Brock are chatting with Emma. “You good to go back out?”
It’s my turn to nod. “Yeah, let’s do it.”
I take a deep breath and head down the hall. I’ve said it a dozen times—I hate strip clubs because they remind me of Pops—but right now, I want out of here for different reasons. I’m exhausted and more emotional than I’ll ever admit out loud. And I really fucking need Emma’s body against mine. She makes me sane. The simple fact is that I’m meant to survive with her by my side.
Across the room, Jared and Brock stand up, then Emma. She’s smiling. Both men look pleased, and whatever their questions were, they must’ve asked them the right way. They’re pros. It would’ve been nice to work with a new team. Throwing punches at potential new team members probably means I have no shot at that job, a fact that was confirmed when Delta went to search Emerald’s at Brock’s request, and the order pointedly did not include me. It sucks. But like the way it worked out with Ryan, a new team will happen when it’s meant to happen. I have to believe that my near-complete mental breakdown in this stupid-ass strip club happened so that Ryan and I could move forward. A new job will come when I hunt it down and find it.
I rub the back of my neck as Sarah comes back from the same hall we just came from. Ryan heads her way, and I miss most of what she says. My focus is intent on Emma.
Yeah, she’s sweet and gorgeous, but damn, the woman is strong—a survivor. It makes me love her all the more. As she walks over, her eye catches mine, and I get my arms around her as fast as I can. Sliding to the side of the room, she melts against me. Her soft curves press to me as if we’re pieces of a puzzle. “You good, pretty mama?”
“A lot better.”
“Good. I want as much distance as possible from here.”
She turns in my arms, gazing across the stage. “Don’t hate this place or what I did. Emerald’s isn’t who I am. But I am better for it. I’m stronger because I pushed myself.”
Holy. Shit. I love this woman. “Way to make my asshole mistakes sound like some shitty stepping stone in life.”
“Ha.”
Holding her to me, I wave bye to the men standing in the room. “Ready?”
Her smile curves as she leans back into me, but then she pops onto her toes and kisses my cheek. “I’m going to get my purse and keys, okay?”
I squeeze her before letting go. She runs off and grabs her things, saying her goodbyes, and then she’s back in my arms, and I’m dragging her out the door. Fresh near-dawn air hits us. I drink in the cool morning and turn to look at Emerald’s a last time, briefly thinking back to the moment I saw fear in her eyes. Never again can I let that happen. Once again, I’m consumed by a dizzying need to run my hands over her, to make sure she is fine.
We make it to her Jeep, and I manage to stow her safely in the passenger’s seat before my hands clasp her cheeks, and my mouth takes hers. I breathe her in as our lips brush against each other. Her tongue caresses mine, and I push away the sudden spring of fear. Life’s too unknown, with hidden enemies and unseen terrors. The idea that I could lose her again… it’s unbearable.
“I love you, baby,” I murmur against her lips. “I’m not the best guy out there.”
“You might be.”
“But Jesus fuck, I promise you, Emma. I will be the best one for you. No more working shit jobs, no more paycheck to paycheck. I’ll figure it out.”
Her eyelashes lower as if she’s lost in thought. But then her hands cover mine. I realize I’m clinging to her.
“We’ll figure it out. I didn’t work this hard here because it was my only option, but because I needed to control what I could of my future.” She studies me. “Does that make sense?”
Her words roll through my mind. She doesn’t need me to survive, but she wants me by her side, making it better. There’s a big difference between those two things. “Yeah, I think it does.”
“Sweet.” She settles against me, her legs hanging off the passenger’s seat as I block her in. She sighs against my chest and asks, “What’s next?”
“Guess we go home.”
She leans back. “We go home?”
“Yeah, baby. We go home together.” My hands run down her shoulders, holding onto her biceps. “Us, under the same roof.”
“With our daughter.”
Point, Emma. My heart explodes in my chest. “Don’t be too perfect, pretty mama. Otherwise, I’m likely to propose in the parking lot of a strip joint. That’d be an awkward story to tell our kids.”
Her face lights up, with big eyes and an unhinged mouth. She silently mouths our kids.
I kiss her on the forehead, buckle her in, and shut the door. Kids. Plural. She’s my family. I want her as my wife. I’m not sure how I’ll pull it all off, but it will happen. I toss the Jeep keys in the air as I walk to the driver’s seat and climb in.
She leans against her door with sleepy eyes. “What a night. Glad it’s over.”
I chuckle. “Me too, baby. I can’t handle any more right now.”
“We’ll get a couple hours sleep before Cally wakes.”
“Perfect.” I pull my wallet and phone from my back pocket, turn the engine over, and notice a light flashing on my screen. No one has this number except the Titan guys and Emma.
And Mazie.
I slide the screen on, and there’s her text: There’s a guy looking for you. Pops is dead.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Emma
My thumb hovers over the button to snap another picture, but really, I’m studying Grayson, wondering what’s wrong. Is he angrier about Emerald’s than he let on, or is he continuing to rehash all of his regrets?
I kick off my flip-flops. The cool grass scratches the bottom of my feet and tickles my toes. Summer is my favorite season, and I bask in the warmth of the slipping sun. There are a million excuses to go outside, a million things to take pictures of, especially around sunset. Especially when Grayson is manning the grill on the back patio.
But as much as I’m enjoying the view and taking pictures of Gray flipping burgers and Cally trying her best to do rolls in the grass, Gray’s smile isn’t genuine.
I snap another picture and check back in the viewfinder to study him. Sexy man. But that’s not a true smile. I haven’t seen one on him since we left Emerald’s yesterday.
I hold my camera up again. “Smile.”
Again, a smile without a spark. I’m unnerved, and despite all of his words, I have to wonder if the guy who was so quick to want to join Titan needs more excitement than Cally and I can offer. Sure, grilling out is fun. Having a beer in the backyard while watching our kid is my dream come true, but now that real life is settling in for Gray and me as a couple, is he having doubts?
“Everything okay?” It’s the thousandth time I’ve asked him that today. Maybe he’s not over the Emerald’s thing. Maybe he is upset that Mazie took off back south, and I wasn’t overly interested in hearing about it. I rolled my eyes when he called her this morning. He said something about her checking out of the hotel room for him, I think. Maybe, maybe, maybe. My mind spirals as I let the camera hang on my neck.
Are you mad at me now? Hurt or bored or antsy?
No matter how I’ve asked, all of his answers are the same. He isn’t mad, angry, or holding a deep grudge because I shook my booty for cash at Emerald’s. Honestly, I’m surprised he let me off the hook for that, but then again, he made it perfectly clear we’ve both made our choices and we should move forward. I like that. Except my sixth sense is going berserk.
He flips a burger. “Yeah, I’m good.”
I bite my lip, scared to ask the only question I have left. But it has to happen, especially with him staying here. I walk closer, even though I’m already way out of earshot of our girl. “If you’re not ready to do this, we don’t need to talk to Cally.”
His spatula-holding hand drops, and his eyes go wide. “What? Why?”
“Because something is off, and I don’t want to rush this.” I go b
ack to biting my lip. “I don’t want to ruin us because we rushed. Everything is really perfect right now, and I know that doesn’t last forever, but I don’t want it to stop so soon.”
“Baby.” He drops the lid on the grill, puts down the utensil, and pulls me into his arms. “It’s not like that. I promise. This isn’t rushed. Hell, it’s far past due.”
“But there is something.”
He doesn’t answer, and my gut drops all the way to the floor. “Please, just tell me.”
He’s holding me, but mentally, he’s drifting. “It’s really nothing.”
“You’re killing me.”
His chest expands with a giant breath in, making the tight T-shirt stretch over his sculpted body. I watch as he holds it in, dropping his head back to look at the sunset sky, then lets it out. As he does, I feel as if he goes with that lost breath.
“Just tell me,” I whisper, hoping my words will somehow bring him back to me.
“Pops died.”
“What?” That’s not what I expected to hear, and I have no idea what to say. Good riddance? Are you okay? I’m not sorry. Really, I don’t know what I am, so I stare up at the orange-pink sky and lean onto his chest.
Finally, he pulls back, opens the grill, and pulls the burgers onto a waiting platter. When he’s done, he tosses the spatula down with a clatter and lowers the lid. I still don’t know what to say, so I walk behind him and wrap my arms around him. My hands clasp against his chest, and my chin rests on his shoulder blade. Under my backward hug, his body relaxes, and he turns, letting my hands drop to his side, though I refuse to let go. I can see a thousand emotions warring for prominence on his face.
“See?” His lips twist into… not really a frown, but definitely a furrow. “Confusing, right?”
“Grayson…” I release my hold on him and run my palms over his stomach, up his chest, and down his shoulders, finally stopping on his biceps. “Your dad died. He was awful, but still, he was… your dad.”
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