“I needed closure, and even though it wasn't nearly as gratifying as I thought it would be, I got it. I can move on now.”
Such a big fat lie, but he didn't need to know that.
He shoved off the couch and gripped my shoulders with his large, strong hands. That close, I had to tip my head back a bit to meet his gaze.
“What if I don't want to be closed just yet?”
“What?” I gasped and tried to step back, but his grip tightened, preventing me from going anywhere without his consent.
“What if I want to remember? Don't I get a say?”
The hint of desperation, the near-silent plea in his tone had me considering his request.
“Why?” I asked and lowered my gaze to the collar of his crisp, white dress shirt. “Why does it matter? You forgot about me, about this place, for years. Why not go back to forgetting?”
His hands slid across my shoulders, skimming up my neck to cup my cheeks between his callused palms. “I can't explain it now. It's… complicated. All I know is in the house, something happened when I saw you.”
“What?”
“Peace. A settled, comforting peace. I need help, Beks, and I know I don't deserve it, but I'm asking anyway. Don't ask me why, but I think you're my only hope.”
Wow, that was not what I expected from this conversation. Broken lamps, tears, lots of yelled names and accusations, but not that.
Help. He needed my help.
Staring into his bright green eyes, the honesty I found felt genuine. This man had done a lot of things, but lying to me was never one of them, and a piece of me wanted to believe that side of him hadn't changed over the years.
“Five days,” he continued when I didn't respond. “The attorneys will be here in five days to settle Pappy's estate. I'll stay here until then, if you're willing to help.” I opened my mouth, but he pressed both his thumbs against my lips. “I don't expect an answer right now. Come find me when you decide. I'll wait. But I hope you do.”
He gave a long, considering look, searching my eyes before stepping back and turning for the door.
Long after he'd left, I still stood in the same spot, staring at the closed front door, dumbfounded at the unexpected turn of events.
I adjusted in the hard dining room table chair to ease the ache it’d caused from just the few minutes of sitting in it. From the seat, I kept a cautious eye on Daddy, who paced the length of the living room mumbling to himself. Too busy considering Brenton's request for help, I didn't go back to the main house after he left. Instead, I stayed here, texted Ryder that I was good and not to worry, and poured three fingers of the whiskey I found hidden in the back of the pantry.
“I don't like it,” Daddy said.
For the last minute, he'd been mulling over the suggestion I offered of sticking around for a few days until we knew the ranch's, and his, fate. No way in hell would I tell him the other reason for me wanting to stay. He would flip the fuck out. Daddy hated Brenton back then, and no doubt hadn't adjusted his feelings toward the man these past few years. Because now, instead of being the older boy flirting with Daddy’s young daughter, Brenton was the man I’d signed a legal agreement with to never seek him out or be involved with again.
Funny, Brenton didn't even mention that tidbit today. Guess that was another blip of history he'd conveniently forgotten.
I rolled the cold glass between my wrists to try and calm my racing pulse. The man wasn't even around and I was still affected by him.
After taking the last sip of whiskey, I slid the glass to the middle of the table and stood to stretch out my lower back. “It's only for a few days, and I can help out around here too.”
“We don't need your help.”
“Maybe we do.” I glanced to Bradley, who sat on the couch playing on his phone. Dark brown eyes flicked up to meet mine. A bit of tension eased from my tight shoulders when I found his eyes bright, maybe slightly bloodshot but not glassy like they'd been for years. Getting my older brother addicted to their high-end drug was another reason Daddy hated Brenton and Caleb. Even though you couldn't blame the Graves boys too much considering Bradley used to be, and maybe still was, the guy you went to around here for anything illegal.
Ever since Caleb passed several months ago, I'd heard Bradley had cleaned up his act. Hopefully it stuck this time around.
Bradley shrugged and went back to staring at his phone. “Let her stay, Dad. After you fired those two boys last month, things have stacked up.”
“What?” I turned back to Daddy, who attempted to look engrossed in the new Cavender's mailer.
“Lazy-ass kids is what happened.”
Or they got tired of taking orders from your drunk ass perched in your leather recliner throne.
If I were a betting girl, I'd put money on that being the case rather than them being lazy.
“If you want to help around here, you could find yourself a husband like that friend Kyle of yours. Having another man around here couldn't hurt.”
“A man,” I deadpanned.
“More useful than someone like you.”
Ouch. Good to know being born with girl bits still disappointed him.
“Maybe one day,” I said back instead of all the pent-up hateful things I wanted to throw at him.
“Someday has come and gone, Rebeka. You spent all those years in school and now look where you are. No land, no husband, no family. Go out and get a good man, if you can find one at your age.”
Sharp nails bit into my palms. Dammit, what was I thinking? No way in hell could I stay there. Not with him, not back to this.
The door slammed at my back, and I stomped to the porch swing before falling into it. A degree, a place of my own, strong, confident, and still not good enough for him.
Never had been.
And he wondered why I ran straight into Brenton’s open arms all those years ago. What no one witnessed was the comforting, protective side B only showed me. The side that accepted me for me and listened night after night. There were never expectations, no judgments when we were together. Just us. Those late nights gazing at the stars, talking and laughing, we were free from our families. And maybe that was what I missed the most and had held on to for so long.
Even though I didn't will it, Daddy's words still stung. Deep down, I did want to belong to someone again. To have a partner in crime to share a life with besides Ryder.
Adjusting on the swing to look south, I scanned the main house and the few cars that still lined the driveway before focusing on their large ranch-style home. Loneliness gripped at my already aching heart. Who was I kidding? I didn't just miss the talks—I missed him. I’d missed him since the day he left. And today his touch and long looks ignited something long smothered inside me.
Thumb against my lips, I ghosted it back and forth as he had done. Just that simple touch, coupled with his hands against my cheeks, nearly did me in. How had I forgotten the sensation of my breath catching, the dip of my stomach like I was falling, the pounding of my heart against my chest so hard, so fast and loud that there was no way the rest of the world didn't hear it?
I was a fool to say yes to his request for help, but I wouldn’t fool myself into thinking I could say no.
So there I had it. Five days with the man to help him… oh hell, he never mentioned what he needed me to do. I should’ve pressed him for details, but at the time my hormones and mind had swirled like an F5 tornado, making simple thoughts impossible.
The porch swing squeaked as I pushed it back and forth with the tips of my toes against the floor. Hopefully I could help him and get closure at the same time.
From inside the house, Daddy’s and Bradley’s cheers and the noises of the TV filtered through the thin glass panes.
Pulling my phone from my dress pocket, I swiped the screen and opened an old text string.
Me: I'm sticking around for a few days.
Ryder: At home. With your father. Is that such a good idea?
Ryder: What abo
ut work?
Me: Already took a few days off for this, so I'll tell them I need a few more.
Me: I'm going to help around here until we know the ranch's fate.
Me: Plus I just learned Daddy fired two people last month and hasn’t replaced them.
Me: Which means there's a bunch not getting done. He definitely isn't doing shit, leaving it all to Bradley.
Ryder: Speaking of your brother…
Me: Oh no. What?
Ryder: I've heard through the rumor mill that some bad-news peeps are looking for him.
Ryder: Maybe the same who were looking for Caleb last year when Old Man Graves upped security.
Ryder: Keep an eye open if you're going be around there.
Me: Maybe you could send Kyle over to protect the house. Daddy would love that. You know, since I'm a girl and can't do anything right.
Ryder: Your dad is a sexist prick. I don't know who I'm more worried about you being around, him or Brenton.
Ryder: Which reminds me, how did the closure go?
Crickets chirped in the night as I stared at the last text. A hot wind blew a chunk of dark hair across my face, blocking the screen. I should tell her what was going on, but then she'd come over and talk me out of it, and that was precisely what I didn't want to happen. Because even though this was the worst idea ever, I wanted to see him again.
Me: Good. He says he was so messed up during that time that he doesn't remember anything.
Ryder: How convenient for him not to remember almost killing someone. I hope you gave him an earful.
Me: Yep.
Ryder: You okay? Need me to run by the liquor store?
Me: Nope, I'm good. It's too late to run by the apartment to get clothes, so I'll go in the morning.
Ryder: Okay, just stay away from your dad. And Brenton. And Brenton's slimy-ass dad. Shit, you sure this is a good idea? Want me to come over? I just got my LTC.
Me: That is terrifying. Why did you do that?
Ryder: You've seen the bar where I work. Shady as fuck. I needed protection.
Me: Do you even know how to shoot it?
Ryder: Stop being so judgy.
Me: That's a no.
Ryder: Hey, I had to qualify!
Me: Please tell me you bought something with a manual safety.
Ryder: You're no fun.
Ryder: It's heavy as hell though.
Me: Heavy? What kind of gun did you get?
Ryder: A .40 cal.
Me: Shit, Ryder! That's a hand cannon! No wonder it's heavy.
Ryder: Bigger the bullet, less you have to aim.
Me: It does. Not. Work. That. Way. I'm legit scared for the general public.
Ryder: Pew. Pew. Pew.
Me: You're ridiculous.
With a broad smile spread across my face, I shoved against the porch to set the swing in motion.
That girl. Hell.
I was still smiling as my gaze fell to the main house. It was too early to risk stopping by to give B the decision that I would help. Later, after dark, would be better.
Even though I was good with us talking again, there might be people who weren’t. Which was why he needed to understand that I'd help him but, just like it used to be, no one could know.
4
Brenton
Every corner of this house elicited a new memory, some good, a few terrible. Growing up privileged wasn't as glorious as people thought it to be. The worst of those memories were exactly what I wanted to chase away tonight with the help of Pappy's extensive liquor trove instead of the clear fizzing liquid filling my glass. Thankfully the last of the locals paying their respects left a few minutes ago, leaving Dad and me alone.
Which was another reason my attention kept diverting back to the high-end bottles along the bar.
Shoulder pressed against the window frame, I stared out into the dark. Besides the few bright windows of Beks’s father's house, nothing else was visible. Those few lights captivated my attention. With every breath after seeing her today, a new memory of her, of us, came flooding back.
Still nothing too specific, but snapshots of laughter and talking under the vast star-filled sky became more evident. And between the innocent memories, snippets of us skin to skin, my lips pressed against hers, my name breathless from her lips bubbled to the surface. Each time I tried to hold on to the memory, it slipped through my grasp and faded once again.
The therapist in Dallas had said the recent blackouts could be from repressed memories and emotions. Maybe it wasn't random memories I'd been avoiding, but ones that surrounded one specific person. Someone my mind had been fighting for years for me to remember.
Her.
Almost like she was the missing piece. Beks could be the cure.
The moment our eyes connected in the main room, the constant simmering tension and anger settled. A single look from her stilled everything. Each stolen touch freed me from some invisible bind that had held me back from truly living.
The past several years I thought I was happy, but now it felt more like contentment. The army gave me a family, a career, a diversion from the self-destructive path I had sprinted down. I'd never regret the decision. No doubt I was still alive because of the irrational, rushed choice made minutes after leaving rehab all those years ago.
Maybe she was the reason I made that decision. I had to survive for her.
But if she was that important, that impactful, then how in the hell did I forget her for so long? And the now burning question of what I did to her.
An unwelcome thought settled in my gut. What if I was like Dad? What if I forced—no, I'd never do that. No matter if I was drunk, high, or sober, I wasn’t that type of person, no matter who my father was.
Turning from the window, I tipped the glass back and downed the last swallows of the drink. Dad watched with a smirk from where he sat on the couch.
“What?” After setting the empty glass on the side table, I leaned against the window once more and crossed my arms over my chest.
“Nice scene today. Glad we can still be a source of entertainment for these people.”
The conniving glint in his eyes had me watching my words.
“Living up to our family name. Like you cared. You were high as a fucking kite all day.”
“Hell yeah, I was. No way could I get through this day sober with all those damn people paying their respects like he was a celebrity around here.”
Tension tightened the muscles down my spine and between my shoulder blades. “Pappy was a good man. Better than you.”
“He had you fooled. He was a mean old bastard who enjoyed controlling everyone by dangling his damn money in their faces to get what he wanted.”
As he spoke, the tension spread to my chest and up my neck before settling in the back of my head with a steady pulse. Fuck, not here. Not in front of him. I gripped the mantle and stared at the ornate clock in the center.
“That girl you were talking to, I remember her,” he said. I flicked my gaze to him and found him smirking. “You had your fun with her, didn't you? Hell, the way she filled out, I wouldn't mind taking your leftovers. Imagine that long dark hair fisted—”
“Watch it,” I gritted out. Darkness spread in the edges of my vision. I had to get out of there.
With a shove off the wall, I strode out of the room, leaving Dad watching from the couch. Needing fresh air, I turned left down the hall and stormed straight for the back patio.
Outside, the hot, dry air burned down to my lungs with each deep inhale. Stepping away from the house, my vision cleared and breathing eased to a regular cadence.
Crazy considering each step took me closer to her.
Beautiful her.
Fucking hot her.
Damn, that woman had curves that could tempt any man. Add in those sultry honey brown eyes and creamy tan skin and she was a walking pinup model.
I stopped at the edge of the patio and gripped the back of my neck. Beks better say yes. Damn, I hoped she said y
es. If she wasn't the magical cure, it sure as hell could be fun while we figured it out.
Even with her nowhere in sight, my fingers itched to touch her again, as well as one other stiff body part. I was surprised she didn't say anything about the massive hard-on that was visible in my suit pants when I touched her. How could I not be turned on with her between my hands, under my control, loving it as much as me?
It was a small miracle I didn't give in to the need to kiss her.
But I would.
As soon as she said yes.
5
Rebeka
Damn, I should've brought a flashlight. The tiny light on the phone wasn't anything but a tease in the pitch black of the night. If I stepped on a rattler just to see B again, I'd take it as an omen to get my ass in the truck, drive back to Midland, and never think of the gorgeous man again.
With each cautious step toward the main house, my nervous energy ticked higher and higher. I was almost to the window of his room when a nearby bang sent me leaping a foot in the air with a quick yelp of surprise. Sounds of cursing and heeled shoes clicking along the flagstone diverted me from my original destination.
Prickly leaves scraped at my hand and arm as I moved a section of a tall bush aside. Through the hole, I watched Brenton collapse into a patio chair and lean forward to massage his temples. Even from there I could tell he was emotionally and physically exhausted. No doubt the day was difficult for him. Even if he couldn't remember me, or this place, surely he remembered his amazing grandfather and mourned the loss.
After a few minutes of gazing at his sexy profile from the shadows, I chastised myself. When did I become a creepy stalker? Without a glance back to where I was retreating, I took a step, eager to get away unseen. Dread shot through my veins, cutting off my breath at something soft and wiggly pinned beneath the heel of my boot. Terrified, I propelled myself forward, right into the bush. With a curse, I hastily disengaged myself from the branches and pokey leaves with a few swats, only to stumble back and land sprawled on the dusty ground.
Shit.
There was still a chance he didn’t hear the commotion, though that hope was dashed when a dark, ominous shadow encroached. To my horror and absolute embarrassment, B stood over me, hands on his hips, smirking.
Vote Then Read: Volume III Page 224