by Lexy Timms
“I will notify them immediately. I’ll keep in touch, and if I need your signature, I’ll call you and set up the best way to get the papers to you,” he said.
“I’ll be close.”
I hung up the phone and stuck it back into my pocket. But the burden I expected to release from my shoulders only seemed to weigh me down further. I knew it was time to make a clean break with everything. Part with all of it at once. After all, what the hell was I going to do with all that stuff? Couches and beds and an entire closet full of sheet sets. I didn’t need any of it. I’d leave a note for the non-profit to donate anything they didn’t use to the local second-hand charity I knew Anton supported, and that would be that.
All that stood between me and going home was a note written to the new owners.
I walked back inside and started wandering around the house. I picked up some odds and ends things—a loose pencil there, a pillow of the floor in the corner. I looked around to see if there was anything I did want to take. A book or a stranded vase or maybe a pillow that still smelled like the remnants of home.
Home.
Where the hell was my home anymore?
After writing the note to the non-profit and taping it to the refrigerator door, I went and laid down in bed. There was nothing else for me to do. All I had to do was contact my pilot and have my plane ready to take me back to California.
After a decent night’s sleep.
“Grayson,” Michelle said breathlessly. “Oh my gosh.”
I rolled my body into hers, filling her up as she shivered against me. Her hands curled into my back as I picked her up off the bed. I pressed her into the wall, my eyes gazing out the balcony windows. What a beautiful sight. Michelle’s pussy wrapped around me and her body succumbing to me while the sun set over my billion-dollar grapes. My lips fell to her neck and I closed my eyes, breathing in the scent of her.
“So beautiful,” I said with a murmur. “So precious to me.”
My body tightened and my toes curled. The sun cast harsh rays of sun into my bedroom as her scent wafted around my head. Her breath was hot on my neck. The glass rattled with my assault. I felt all of her pressed into me, blanketing my muscles and filling me in all the way I knew she could.
And for the first time, I gazed into the eyes of the woman instead of gazing out across my vineyard as I came.
My eyes flew open as I unstuck my tongue from the roof of my mouth. My heart raced and my cock leaked against the sheets of the bed. My frown deepened as I drew in a deep breath. I could still smell the essence of Michelle underneath my nose. I threw the covers off me and looked down at my aching cock, my balls hanging low and the tip crusted with precum.
I closed my eyes, grimacing at her voice echoed off the corners of my mind.
“Grayson. Oh my gosh.”
I took a cold shower, draining her from my system. I wasn’t going to relieve myself to her memory. I wouldn’t give her the satisfaction. I cleaned myself up before stripping the sheets from the bed, then tossed them in the washer. I’d walked around the entire house, and there wasn’t a single thing that leapt out at me to keep. Maybe it was because I was bitter or maybe it was because Michelle had tainted this house with her presence, but I couldn’t bring myself to take any of it.
But I hadn’t ventured into the attic yet.
I found myself sitting there in the dust and musty humidity of Anton’s attic. My legs hung over the edge as I sat there with that photo album in my lap. It was the one I’d hidden away from Michelle—which now felt like ages ago. I smoothed my hand over the faded outside before drawing in a deep breath. Before finding the strength to flip the album open and take a peek.
The first picture hit me with memories that made my arms tense. Pictures of my younger self, still bruised from fighting with my drunken father. It was the first picture Anton ever took of me just days after I’d come to live with him. I flipped through the pages, finding nothing but shame in the pictures of my childhood. Scars I’d eventually had removed with laser treatments and bruises that had melted away, leaving behind mental and emotional scars no laser could fix. But as I flipped through the album, I found that Anton had a secret.
He had kept track of my local athletic career.
I perused through the articles and took in all the pictures. I pulled out a news clipping from one of the biggest games I ever played in high school. My eyes danced along the picture, taking in the formation on the field before the article fell below it.
Then, my eyes fell to something curious.
I took in the form of my coach on the sidelines, his clipboard over his mouth. Standing to his right was a man I recognized. The scout that eventually picked me up from that game. That eventually recruited me to play college football. But standing beside that scout, with his arms folded behind his back like he always had, was Anton.
Did Anton know the man that scouted me for the college I attended?
I knew he came to all of my football games, but I never really thought anything of it. He raised me through my last year of high school. It didn’t shock anyone that he came to the games, especially when I was playing. But I’d always wondered how a scout like the man who found me knew to come all the way to podunk Stillsville, Illinois.
How much influence did Anton actually have in my athletic career? Because looking at that picture only raised questions in my mind I didn’t have answers for.
Chapter 6
Michelle
I hated being back in Williston. The last few days in North Dakota had been a nightmare. Although Stillsville had been nothing to write home about, being away from home—no matter how rough it was—gave me some perspective. Especially on the idea of home and what it consisted of. I wanted to do something meaningful with my life, but I wanted to do it in a place I could call home. A place where I could start fresh and raise my child away from the sadness, depression and anger that came with my mother and all of the small towns that seemed to riddle my life.
The opportunities in Williston were miniscule, but compared to the nonexistent opportunities in Stillsville, it was a step up.
But I wasn’t the only one coming to that conclusion.
“Hey, sis?”
“Hmm?” I asked with a groan.
“Wanna go fishing?” Nick asked.
“Is it before six o’clock?”
“It’s five forty five.”
“Can it wait until six?”
“I’ve got coffee,” he said.
“I can’t have coffee.”
The words flew from my mouth as my eyes widened. If I wasn’t awake before, I was now. I slid the covers off my head and I watched Nick’s face fall as his mind began to race. He was intelligent. I knew the second those words fell from my mouth that he would put two and two together. But I knew he would also be courteous enough not to bring it up until I did. I sighed and sat up in bed, rubbing my eyes to clear them of their hazy sleep.
“Give me fifteen minutes and I’ll be downstairs,” I said.
“I’ll grab you some juice to take with us,” Nick said.
I pulled on some clothes I had lying nearby and tossed my hair up. No use in brushing my teeth or washing my face. I could clean up once we got back. I slipped into my shoes and shuffled down the stairs, trying not to wake our mother as I made my way to the front door. Nick held out the bottle of juice for me and I took it, but I saw his eyes fall to my stomach quickly before he led me out the door.
Shit.
He knew.
“We used to do this all the time, you know,” I said, as I held my fishing rod.
“No, I did this all the time. You usually fell asleep on my shoulder,” Nick said.
“I only did that until I was like, fourteen.”
“Sixteen.”
“I was not falling asleep on your shoulder at sixteen,” I said.
“You really were,” he said with a grin.
“Whatever. I might’ve fallen asleep on your shoulder, but the big bad mili
tary man always crawled into bed with me during North Dakota storms. All the way up until he graduated from high school.”
“No, I crawled in because they spooked you.”
“I’ve always loved the storms,” I said with a giggle. “You were the one who couldn’t handle the thunder.”
“I’ve launched rocket launchers, Michelle. I can handle a bit of thunder.”
“Now maybe, but not when you were a teenager,” I said with a grin.
The two of us sat there with our fishing rods and fell into a comfortable silence. Nick caught a couple and helped me reel in one, causing the boat to rock with a bit of excitement. I knew he’d scale and debone the fish for dinner that night. And there was nothing like the fish my brother fried up in my mother’s kitchen. My mouth watered at the thought of it as he caught yet another fish, tossing it into our water bucket to take back with us.
“How was it, being in the military?” I asked.
I could tell something was on my brother’s mind, and I wanted him to know he could talk with me.
“At first, I thrived,” he said. “The structured environment was exactly what I needed. And because of it, I excelled in everything I did. I enjoyed learning new skills and seeing so many place I could’ve never dreamed of.”
“But—?” I asked.
“But combat. It’s—”
I reached out and took his hand as he drew in a deep breath.
“Covert Ops isn’t glamorous. It’s not like what you see on television, Michelle. So many lines of my moral code blurred in that job. And there were missions we ran where I couldn’t see the point. Or the end. Like this last one.”
I squeezed his hand and tried to keep my tears at bay.
“I no longer felt like I was making a difference. I feel like the same person, but I see the world differently. And slowly, I started to feel like I didn’t belong in it.”
“Nick,” I said.
“Not like that. Not like, you know, suicidal or anything. But the world became unrecognizable.”
“Well, maybe you are a little different. And that’s fine. No one would ever blame you for that. People change, especially when they’re thrown into the kind of situations you’ve been in. You can’t be so hard on yourself, Nick.”
I watched him nod as his eyes panned over to me, but then he pinned me with his gaze. That icy blue stare that made him look like a madman with his buzzed blonde hair. He did that whenever he didn’t want to talk anymore. And I knew what was coming. He was about to flip this entire conversation back over to me, which meant answering some very hard questions.
“Now, I want to hear about this little adventure you had after high school,” Nick said.
“So, Mom filled you in on me running off,” I said.
“I may or may not have done some digging on my own.”
“I was wondering why you didn’t flinch at some of the details I already gave you.”
“You’re my little sister. And I have a very particular set of skills that make me a very dangerous man. You don’t get anywhere without my knowing it, and you don’t interact with anyone without me digging into who they are.”
“Uh huh. Well, you can drop the intimidation act. I won’t hide from your questions,” I said with a grin.
But something in his stare told me he was telling me the truth.
“Then start from the beginning. What happened, Michelle?”
His eyes fell to my stomach again, and this time he didn’t try to hide the movement.
“I mean, I told you a bit of it already. I wanted a change of pace. A way out of this stupid town.”
Nick chuckled and the sound blanketed me in a great deal of comfort.
“I felt the same way after high school. It’s why I enlisted.”
“I thought you always wanted to be in the military,” I said.
“I did. I still do. But I still had other reasons. Like getting out of this shitty place. It made me feel trapped. I wanted adventure and a life outside of Williston.”
“I know. Trust me, I know. And now you want to know how my adventure turned out.”
“I do,” he said.
“I guess me being back six months later tells you all about that,” I said bitterly.
“Don’t make me drag this out of you. Tell me what happened, Michelle.”
“Andy was an asshole. You know, the guy that asked me to go home with him after he lost his job. In the back of my mind, I kind of always knew he was an asshole. But I was willing to overlook it for the thrill of it all. But once we got to Stillsville, Illinois, Andy stayed unemployed and found plenty of time to nitpick me and sleep around with other women.”
“What a pathetic little fucker,” my brother said.
“Eventually, he kicked me out.”
“He what now?”
“Yeah. It was a massive fight after he came home drunk one night from the bar. The sickening thing is, I went back to him after that. But during that time where I didn’t know what to do with my world, an older man in town hired me to help take care of his property.”
“Hold up. What older man?”
“His name was Anton Volk. He died a few weeks ago.”
A healthy dose of sadness settled in my gut and forced tears to my eyes.
“I’m sorry, Michelle. Were the two of you—?”
“No, no, no,” I said, as I wiped at my eyes. “Nothing like that. I guess he took pity on my situation or something and let me stay with him. He had this massive piece of property on the outskirts of town and needed help with the upkeep, so he paid me a decent wage to work for him. My gosh, that man was so nice. And so caring. He always talked to me with the kindest words and was always willing to cook and listen to me jabber on about my pathetic life.”
My jaw quivered as my brother wrapped his arm around my waist. He pulled me close to him and my head fell onto his shoulder.
“I know it’s not easy losing someone,” Nick said.
“That’s not even the worst part,” I said with a sniffle. “When I went back to Andy and tried to fix things, he practically tried to force himself on me one night after coming home drunk. I packed up my stuff and left, and went to Anton’s place. I met his godson, Grayson. And we just—”
I sighed and closed my eyes, no longer knowing how the hell to continue with my story.
“Where is this Grayson guy now?” Nick asked.
His hand fell onto my stomach, intuiting so much about my story without me having to say a word. But I couldn’t tell him anymore. I couldn’t tell him what Gray had done. That I was pregnant. That, yet again, I’d been left behind by some asshole that didn’t think anything of me. But more than that, I couldn’t admit to my brother that I couldn’t get Gray off my mind. That every night since he’d left me in Anton’s house, I’d dreamed of him. That I was wishing him to appear so we could fix things. I couldn’t stop missing him, and it made me feel terrible.
It made me look pathetic against the war hero I now supported myself on.
“I’m sorry,” I said breathlessly. “I’m being selfish.”
But Nick tightened his grip on me the second I tried to move away.
“You’re staying here until you get it all out,” he said.
And as he kissed the top of my head, I unleashed all of my tears. My shoulders shook with my sobs and tears flooded his shirt as we sat there in the middle of the lake. My heart bled all over the floor of the boat as my body quaked against my brother’s.
As much as I wanted to smack Gray across the face, anything was better than not having him around at all.
I hated that I felt that way after everything he had accused me of.
Chapter 7
Grayson
“Tell me you have it.”
“And hello to you as well,” Maria said. “You ready?”
“I’ve been ready for the past half hour,” I said. “Hit me with it.”
I jotted down the number I had Maria track down for me before I settled the penc
il onto the kitchen counter.
“Are you sure that’s the number you want?” Maria asked. “It sounds like you’re on some wild goose chase.”
“Yep. That’s the number. Thank you,” I said.
“What’s gotten into you, Grayson?”
I closed my eyes at the sound of my voice.
“Maria, I don’t have time for this.”
“Are you at least making progress on the house?” she asked.
“I have to go.”
“Mr. MacDonald.”
“What, Maria?”
“Things going that well with the girlfriend?”
I gritted my teeth together as she sighed on the other end of the line.
“When are you coming home?” Maria asked.
“I’ll let you know. In the meantime, keep doing what you’re doing.”
“At this rate, I might as well own your vineyard.”
“Goodbye, Maria.”
I hung up the phone and felt like an asshole, but I couldn’t rally the effort to call her back and apologize. I didn’t need one of Maria’s motherly lectures. I didn’t need her advice. And I sure as hell didn’t need to be spilling my story to anyone else until I could figure out what the hell was going on. Everything in my world felt as if it had tipped up on its side because of that damn picture, and I wasn’t going home until I had answers to everything.
Michelle included.
I punched the number into my cell phone, then held it up to my ear. The number I had her track down was for a Brian Christley, the scout who recruited me for my college football team over a decade ago. I wanted to know the story behind that picture. No one stood by a coach or a scout the way Anton had without knowing someone. Without having some sort of a plan in the works. Whether it was simply to vouch for me or whether it was something more, I had to know.
Because ever since finding that album, it had been my latest distraction.
My mind swirled with all sorts of questions. Did Anton somehow pave the way towards that college scholarship? Had Anton greased someone’s palms in order to get it for me? I wasn’t a stranger to the idea of feeding someone money to get something to turn in my favor. And with the kind of wealth Anton had, I could only assume he wasn’t a stranger to the same notion. No one amassed the type of wealth he or I had without paying out for a few favors.