by CJ Roberts
Anxiety coiled in the pit of Nic’s stomach as he wheeled the rented SUV onto the narrow country road. He took the next curve, passed a copse of trees, and halted under the large wooden arch engraved with the scripted letters R and H, proclaiming the ranch Rachel’s Haven.
After keying in the security code to open the gates, Nic mentally kicked himself. Turning to Kaden, he grimaced. “If I’d been even half as smart as the stalker and installed a security camera here, we’d at least know who delivered the damn blackmail note.”
Kaden peered over at the mailbox, then up at the arch and nodded. “Yep, but we’ll catch her, anyway.”
Nic drove through the gates and filled his lungs with a breath of clean ranch air, hoping to calm his nerves before facing Rachel. Since the mere mention of the accident brought to mind their father’s rages and hate-filled words, they’d never really discussed what had happened that night thirteen years ago.
The few times the subject had been broached, Rachel had been quick to discount his part in it and changed the subject. If glossing over the truth helped her move on, so be it. Who was he to judge? Clearly, it was something she didn’t want to talk about. But they had to discuss it. He had to tell her he didn’t have the money to pay the blackmail.
After all these years, he was going to hear how she really felt about him, about his role in her injuries. His stomach cramped and bile rose in his throat. Everything he’d done since that day, he’d done for her. If he lost Rachel too, it would kill him. With slightly unsteady hands, he stopped the car in front of the main house and turned off the motor.
Before opening the door, he turned to observe Kaden’s reaction. The house was small, tiny even, compared to Hollywood standards, but it suited them perfectly. Rachel and their mother had instantly fallen in love with the two-story house with its wrap-around veranda, while he’d been captivated by the acres of land surrounding it. Even though he didn’t visit the ranch nearly as much as he’d like to, unlike anywhere else in the world, this was home. “So, what do you think?”
Kaden watched the ranch hands lead the horses out of the stable to frolic in the fields before the kids arrived for their therapy sessions. As the horses’ whinnies reached them, his expression grew wistful, and Nic realized he didn’t know much about his bodyguard beyond his exemplary military record and spotless reputation in the small world of personal security. Kaden glanced at him, then returned his attention to the horses. “I don’t know how you do it.”
“Do what?” Rachel had been running the ranch since she turned eighteen. He didn’t do anything, except send money.
“Live in L.A., and put up with all the shit that goes on there. If I had a place like this”—Kaden indicated the ranch with a sweep of his hand—“I’d never leave.”
Nic let his gaze wander, taking in the house, the land, the animals, and sighed. “I do it because I have to.” He’d been planning to cut back on the number of movies he did, but now, that wouldn’t be possible.
“Not that I want to stick my nose in your business, but I have heard the rumors. You earned millions from Bad Days alone. With that kind of money, you could quit Hollywood today and still live comfortably for the rest of your life.”
Holding up his empty hands, Nic shook his head. “I’m broke.”
Kaden’s brows shot up. “What?”
“Apparently, before he died, David invested my money in several bad ventures. Then Vivian borrowed most of what was left.” He made quotes in the air with his fingers. “It’s pretty much all gone.”
Fucking bitch. Kaden didn’t say the words out loud, but Nic read them clearly in his expression. “What’re you going to do?”
Nic gave a half shrug, trying to look casual as he opened the door. “The only thing I can do: keep working.”
“Nic!” He heard Rachel calling him from the house’s large front porch. A brilliant smile lit her face when he turned to her. Slightly in front of her, his stance protective, stood a large man, who by the resemblance to Rémi, had to be his cousin, Tommy. Nic slammed the door shut and raced up the wheelchair ramp. After briefly greeting the man, he bent down to give Rachel a hug. “It’s so good to have you home again,” she said against his shoulder.
He tightened his hold on her, then released her and crouched on his haunches. “How are you, Rachel?”
“I’m doing great.” The optimism in her voice warmed him. “The doctor said the fracture is healing more quickly than he’d anticipated. If things keep going this way, I can start some light physical therapy on that leg too in a couple months.”
Nic gripped her hands and bent to kiss her knuckles, hiding his face. He swallowed hard to push down the lump in his throat. “Thank God,” he managed to murmur. He heard heavy footsteps on the ramp and stood up as Kaden joined them. “Rachel, Tommy, this is Kaden Christiansen, my bodyguard.”
Kaden took Rachel’s hand. “Pleased to meet you, Ms. Lamoureux.”
“Please, call me Rachel.”
Kaden nodded, then shook hands with Tommy. Nic placed his hand on Rachel’s shoulder as he pinned Kaden with a sharp stare. “Rachel is your new number one priority.”
“If I’m Kaden’s new number one priority, who was his last?”
Nic absorbed the words like a punch in the gut—hard. He glanced at Kaden, but the fucker just shrugged. Shit. Nic really didn’t want to talk about Lauren right now.
Kaden gave him a slight reprieve when he picked up the luggage and asked, “Why don’t I take these inside?”
“Thanks, man,” Nic said, barely suppressing his sarcasm. “Pick a room on the second floor for yourself. Mine’s on the top floor.” When they’d moved into the house, he’d had the attic converted into a suite for himself, and the first floor extended to include a suite for Rachel. Between her rooms on the ground floor and the three bedrooms on the second, there’d be plenty of room for Rachel’s family, if she married someday. It pleased him to imagine the sound of her kids running up the stairs to his attic room to wake up their lazy uncle.
During all his years in L.A., he’d held on to this dream, but since meeting Lauren, the dream had altered. He could easily picture Jason running up the attic stairs and jumping on his bed where Lauren lay sleeping, curled in his arms, to wake them up for breakfast. Nic’s breath caught in his chest. He wasn’t ready—wasn’t willing—to give up the dream. He wanted Lauren in his bed. He wanted to hear Jason’s feet pounding up the wooden steps in the morning.
After this situation with the stalker was over, he’d go to Lauren and do whatever she wanted to move them beyond this impasse. If she was still worried about her and Jason’s safety, he’d hire an entire army to guard them. If it took him the rest of their lives, he’d make her see they belonged together.
Rachel kept silent as Kaden threw his duffle bag over one shoulder and Nic’s over the other. When the screen door banged shut behind him, she reached out for Nic’s hand. The sight of her small hand in his much larger one sent his stomach plunging down into his shoes. Rachel was his little sister and he was supposed to protect her, dammit, not come here and turn her world upside down. Again.
“Tell me. Who was Kaden’s first priority before me?”
“Lauren,” he admitted, more gruffly than he’d intended.
“Where is she? Is she safe? Why didn’t you bring her here?”
Nic scanned the area. The ranch was coming to life, and numerous workers were within hearing distance, not to mention Tommy, who had taken up a post at the edge of the porch. “Let’s go inside where we can talk in private.”
Rachel wheeled herself through the door he held open for her. “Living room, okay?”
“Sure. Want something to drink?” he asked, hoping to distract her.
“No. Let’s talk before Rémi comes over and things get crazy.”
Resigned, he settled into his favorite recliner and waited while she maneuvered herself to a spot in front of him. It was killing him not to jump up and help her, but the doctors insisted tha
t fostering her independence was an important, even necessary, factor in her recovery.
“So, what’s going on with Lauren?”
Nic forced his voice to sound casual, unaffected even. “She’s on her way to New York City. Vanity Fair offered her a job.”
“That’s fantastic. She must be thrilled.”
The memory of Lauren crumpling against the limo outside his loft materialized in his mind. He closed his eyes against the tightening in his chest. When Rachel rubbed his forearm, he lifted his lids and met her gaze. “What is it?”
“It’s over.” At least for now.
“Why?”
Nic rubbed his face with his hand. “She said it’s too dangerous for her and her son to be with me.” When Rachel opened her mouth to respond, he held up his hand to stop her. “Before you say anything, let me finish. The stalker killed Summer and threatened to kill Lauren, too. And this blackmail stuff, well, that’s just icing on the cake.”
“I can understand her being worried about the stalker, but I don’t see how the blackmail has anything to do with it.”
Lauren’s words replayed in his mind: Talk to Rachel, tell her how you feel, and get over it. Lauren wouldn’t steer him wrong, would she? No. The raw honesty in her voice had been clear. She truly believed Rachel didn’t blame him. Well, there was only one way to know for sure: he had to grow some balls and say what needed to be said.
After pausing for a moment to gather his courage, he took Rachel’s hand in his. “I couldn’t keep Lauren because I can’t protect both of you.”
Rachel’s eyes sought his. “Protect me from what? Between Rémi and Tommy, no one can get near me.”
He held her gaze and made his voice as gentle as he could. “Protect you from the press, Rachel. If I didn’t get rid of Lauren and pay the ten million dollars….” He stopped and took a deep breath. “The stalker knows everything about me, about what I did.”
“So what?”
So what? “The paparazzi will feed on this story like coyotes on chickens. Don’t you understand? They’ll hound you every minute until you can’t even step outside anymore.”
“Oh I understand, all right.” Her eyes narrowed, and she shook her hand free of his. “No one would care about this if you hadn’t made such a big deal of hiding the truth.”
Nic froze, taken aback by the hurt in her eyes and her hard tone. “I did it to protect you.”
“No. You did it to protect yourself. At least be honest about that.” Her voice broke and she turned her head, but not before he caught a glimpse of tears shining in her eyes.
Jesus Christ. Was she right? Lauren had said as much about his father: He blamed you because it was easier than admitting his own guilt. Nic sighed and shook his head. He was as bad as his old man.
Rachel turned back to him. Red-rimmed eyes glared at him as her chin edged up. “I’m sick of being treated like your dirty little secret.”
20
“My dirty little—!” Shocked, Nic slipped out of his seat and sank to his knees beside Rachel’s wheelchair. Even in his mind, he couldn’t complete the thought. With both hands, he raked his hair, tugging on the strands until his scalp hurt, eager to find a new home for the pain in his heart. Rachel brought his hands to her lap and held them. Lifting his head, he looked deep in her eyes. “Rachel, sweetheart. I never thought… I never meant….” His voice trailed off as the words got stuck in his throat.
“Maybe so, but that’s how I feel, how I’ve always felt.”
What kind of shit hides his sister from the world so he won’t have to face what he’s done, so he can escape judgment? “I’m so sorry. For the accident, for destroying our family, for ruining your life, for making you feel less than you are. I’m sorry about everything,” he finished, his voice cracking.
Rachel stroked his hair as he’d often done to her when she’d been little. “I know you feel responsible for what happened, but it wasn’t your fault. Don’t you think I blamed myself, too?”
Nic jerked his head up. “Why would you blame yourself? You were just a child.”
She squeezed his hands and smiled sadly. “You were just a child too. Maybe if I hadn’t whined and pushed so much, you wouldn’t have rushed. I’ve told you many times, the accident was just that, an accident. Before she died, Maman helped me understand that sometimes there isn’t anyone to blame. We have to make the best of the hand we’re dealt.”
“Maman was usually right. But not in this case. I took away your future. You might have grown up to be a ballerina or something.”
Rachel stared at him open-mouthed for several moments. Then she began to laugh. “A ballerina? Mon chère frère, is that why you’ve been making yourself so miserable all these years? Believe me, I can dance better on my horse than I ever could on my own legs.”
“But Rachel—”
“No, Nic,” she said, the sharpness of her tone surprising him. “Stop feeling sorry for me. It’s not like my life ended that night.” A pang in his chest made him catch his breath.
Her eyes grew round. “My God. That’s what you think, isn’t it? In your mind, the little sister you knew and loved died in that accident.”
Nic bowed his head. “No, Rachel. Never.”
“You think that because I’m in a wheelchair, I’m completely dependent on you, that I can’t fend for myself, that I can’t be a contributing member of society. Jesus.” She raised her fists, shaking them in the air. “I feel like I’m trapped in a bad movie where I play the poor crippled sister to your heroic self-sacrificing brother.”
When he opened his mouth to speak, she stopped him. “I’m not finished.” After a moment she let out a long breath. “I’ve made my peace with it, and now that I’m older, I realize that in some ways it’s been a gift.”
“A gift?” he sputtered.
She caressed his cheek. “Yes, a gift. Because of my paralysis, we created this ranch. We’ve helped hundreds of children. We’ve shown them how to be happy.” Her eyes sparkled and she smiled widely. “I can’t imagine a better life.”
Nic could only stare at his sister, amazed by her words. Lauren had been right about this, too. Rachel was useful and productive. And they had built something wonderful together, beautiful even. Something that could be destroyed if people turned on him when all this went public. He sat back in his chair and gazed out the wide bay window. “We might lose the ranch.”
“You’re afraid this will destroy your career?”
Nic’s jaw tightened. But he had to get it all out there. No more lies, no more secrets. “Yes, but I’m not just worried about my career. Most of my money is gone.”
“Gone?” she asked, wide-eyed.
He swallowed and faced her. “Vivian and David made some bad investments. That won’t be a problem if I can still work, but….” He shook his head.
Rachel narrowed her eyes. What had he said to set her off this time? “What do you think I’ve been doing with the money you put in the ranch account?”
“You spend it on the ranch and kids, of course.”
Rachel tilted her head, a puzzled expression on her face. “I know you’ve been away most of the last ten years, but you do know I’m attending university, right? And that I’m majoring in business administration?”
“Yes, but what does that have to do with the ranch?”
She rolled her eyes and anger laced her voice. “I run the ranch. That’s what this has to do with it.”
“But the accountant takes care of all the money stuff.”
She shook her head. “He was useless, so I fired him. Then I improved the budget by reducing the expenses. The money I saved, I put into a scholarship fund. A fund which I invested quite well if I do say so myself. Unlike your Vivian, I know how to handle money.”
“Christ, I had no idea.” Rachel was one surprise after another today.
“The fund now provides for twenty-five percent more children than when we started offering free services four years ago. So you can stop worrying
about throwing money at the ranch. Even if you never provided another penny, we could probably keep the ranch going for a long time.”
“How much is in this fund?”
“Over two million. My stocks did well.”
Nic could only gape at her as he absorbed what she’d said. In the four years since the therapy part of the ranch had been up and running, she’d managed to accumulate millions in savings and investments. And how interesting that the amount in the fund was the same amount he still needed to pay the blackmail.
Using the money to shove all this ugliness under the rug wasn’t the answer. He’d learned something in the last few weeks: he wanted a normal life, with a family, and he couldn’t have that if he spent all his time protecting a secret, protecting himself. If he lost his career, so be it. He’d only started it to support Rachel and the ranch. As long as they were both safe, it didn’t matter what happened to him.
“Do you forgive me?” he asked.
“There was never anything to forgive. A better question is: do you forgive yourself?”
Nic closed his eyes briefly. Lauren had called it a stupid mistake, one he’d accepted responsibility for. Maybe it was time he stopped punishing himself, and Rachel by extension. Because the guiltier he’d felt, the less often he’d visited the ranch. He let out a long breath and forced a small smile. “I’ll work on it.”
“That’s good enough for me. Now, what are you going to do about Lauren?”
Nic rose and crossed his arms. “There’s nothing to do, until this situation with the stalker is over.”
Rachel smiled sweetly up at him. “Bullshit.”
His brows shot up and he rocked back on his heels. “What did you say?”
She grinned. “I said bullshit. You love her, don’t you?”
He uncrossed his arms and thrust his hands into the front pockets of his jeans. Looking at his feet, he said, “Yeah. But sometimes love isn’t enough.”
“Bullshit.”
Nic jerked his head up and burst out laughing. “This new grown-up attitude of yours is going to take some getting used to.”