Surrender (The Titans of Founder's Ridge Book 3)

by Nichole Greene

  “Good girl,” I give her a growl for pleasing me. I step back. “Now tell me what’s wrong, and I’ll let you come.”

  I watch as she fights to retain the distance between us. Whatever it is, she doesn’t want to deal with it. Or she doesn’t know how yet. Her shoulders deflate when she makes the decision to give into me.

  “I had a flare a few days ago. It was another mental fog, I was just about to order my favorite latte and poof,” she snaps her fingers, “everything just went cloudy. I couldn’t remember anything. I just froze. Luckily some sweet woman helped get me to the hospital.”

  An alarm blares from the speaker, and I hit the stop button again to get us back moving.

  “She had this beautiful baby girl on her chest in one of those carriers. I started to wonder as I came out of the fog if this is something I would pass down to my children. When I asked the doctor if it was, he informed me that I am, in all likelihood, infertile. Then he walked out of the room like he didn’t just shatter the only dream I have left.”

  I pull her into my arms as the first tears escape and kiss the top of her head.

  “I’ve just been in a downward spiral since then.” Her voice is muffled by chest, but I can hear the sadness in it nonetheless.

  “Maybe he was wrong.” And what a fucking insensitive prick. “If he was an ER doctor, he probably doesn’t know in-depth details about every disease.” I run my hands up and down her back comfortingly.

  “I asked my specialist yesterday,” she says stepping off the elevator into the main hospital lobby. “She said that with my history of irregular periods plus this diagnosis, the chances of me conceiving are very slim.” She bites her lip while she texts her driver to pick her up.

  “I’m sorry.” I tilt her head back up, so she’s looking in my eyes. “I’m here. I’m with you.”

  She nods and sniffles.

  “Okay, how about dinner?” She definitely hasn’t been eating, and my number one priority right now is to take care of her. “Let’s go to our diner, eat greasy food, and talk about anything besides babies.”

  “Add dance to the restricted topics, and you have yourself a deal.”

  I open the door for her when Marco pulls up. She tells him the address for the diner and makes small talk with him on the drive there. He asks about Lilith, so I show him the pictures I took. It’s after eight, so traffic isn’t too bad, and the drive is short.

  “Okay,” I look across the table at her while we wait for our server. “How about we play two truths and a lie over dinner? Work, dance, and babies are off the table entirely, but anything else is fair game.”

  “Sounds perfect.”

  The server comes and takes our order, which I make because I want to see her eat and not pick at a limp diner salad all night. We’re having our usual, burgers, fries, and milkshakes.

  “I’ll start. I once punched Con for kissing my sister, I hate onions, and I just bought a house in the Hamptons.”

  “The first is the lie,” she says decisively.

  “Wrong,” I say with a smile. “I caught him kissing Gwen at a pool party in middle school. I punched him right in the nose.”

  “That’s hilarious,” she giggles, and my chest loosens a bit seeing her smile instead of cry. “I would have loved to see that.”

  “Yeah, that was the day we decided all sisters were off limits.”

  “Are you worried about this?” She points back and forth between us.

  “Yes.” I nod. “But I wouldn’t change what’s happening here. It’s different than anything I’ve experienced before.”

  “Good,” she nods slowly, still looking unsure until she shakes it off. “I guess it’s my turn.” She taps her finger and thinks for a minute. “Okay, my first kiss was with one of the lawn workers at my boarding school. I want to spend a summer at home in St. Petersburg someday. I’m allergic to cats.”

  “The first better be the fucking lie.”

  I watch the smile grow across her face as she shakes her head. “Nope. I’m not allergic to cats.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Oh, I am not telling you that.” She shakes her finger in my face. “No ruining some poor man’s life just because he kissed me.”

  I narrow my eyes as I look at her. The fact of the matter is that I don’t need her to tell me his name. I’ll figure it out on my own. If he was more than a few years older than her, I’ll ruin him.

  “Oh God. You’re plotting. I can see it all over your face.” She rolls her eyes. “I’m glad you and Con have Levi to balance you out.”

  “Levi is just as passionately obsessive about the people and things he cares about. He just hides it behind his pretty boy charm.”

  “You care about me?” She tilts her head and looks at me curiously.

  “Tsarina,” I lean forward, “that’s the dumbest question to ever come from those pretty pink lips. I’ve always cared for you. First as my best friend’s little sister, then as a friend, and now as the woman sharing my bed and occupying my thoughts.”

  She lives rent-free in my head, but it’s the roots she’s growing deep inside my black heart that really scare me.

  She swallows and looks at me. “I used to have a crush on you.”

  “I know.”

  “You do?”

  “Yeah, I always have.” I wink at her to lighten the mood. “You were pretty obvious about it, to be honest.”

  Our food comes before she can reply. Instead of continuing down that line of conversation, we talk about music, the upcoming election. We talk about how Connor has been mulling with the idea of running for office in a few years. She thinks he shouldn’t because of the illegal things he’s done, which I know I can cover for him, so it’s really not a concern. Plus, show me one politician with a clean record, and I’ll show you a liar.

  After we finish our meal, she links her arm through mine. We step out onto the sidewalk, and the noxious scent of hot tar from potholes being filled lingers in the air. She wraps her arms around my neck and kisses me. It’s a slow, deep kiss. Her tongue dances over mine seductively. I grab her by the hips and hold her close. I don’t know how long we stand on the corner, making out like a couple teenagers right before curfew.

  “Can I come home with you tonight?” she asks when she pulls back.

  “Do you even need to ask?” I kiss her nose.

  9

  CLAIRE

  I wake up alone in bed, the sheets already cool when I reach my hand out beside me. Griff came in last night while was I still sleeping, but when I felt him slide his arms around me, I stirred. When I turned to face him, fresh from his shower, I couldn’t hold back. I rolled him over and climbed on top of him, taking him at a lazy, slow pace. I probably have his fingerprints on my hips from where he gripped me as he came.

  I turn my head with a small smile on my face at the memory. A still warm cup of coffee rests on the nightstand next to a note. I reach over and pick it up.

  Tsarina,

  I had to get to work for early meetings this morning. Take as long as you want to leave. As far as I’m concerned, you’re always welcome here. I’m leaving you a key. Use it as you wish. I also bought the shampoo, conditioner, body wash, and face scrub you use to keep here. I set them on the counter for you.

  Griff

  My chest swells with warmth at the thoughtful gesture. It’s not surprising that he’s attentive to detail, he has always been this way. I grab my phone off the charging pad and unlock it to check messages and email. There’s a text from Mom, and I delete it without opening it. There’s an email from the ballet company. I read through it but already know everything it’s going over about the process for tryouts in two weeks.

  The thing that surprises me, though, is a text from an unknown number. I open it up, and my heart drops to my stomach at what I see.

  Unknown: I know your secret.

  Unknown: Pull out of tryouts for principal dancer and I won’t tell anyone.

  Under the two mes
sages is a picture of me leaving my MS specialist’s office. It’s a picture from my last appointment. I give myself one minute to panic. One minute to imagine every bad outcome. Then I lock those emotions down. I’m not cowering to some asshole who has to resort to blackmail.

  I fling the covers off and go straight to take a shower. This is just the distraction I need from my broken dreams. I’m going to find out who this person is and destroy them because that’s what Volkovs do.

  While I shower, I contemplate asking Griff for help. I know he wouldn’t mind and would probably prefer I do so, but I feel like I’m leaning too much on him. I don’t want to be too much of a hassle when he has NNC and the new company he’s starting with Con on his plate. Obviously, Con and Lilith are out of the question to go to for help as well.

  Not just because I’m not ready to tell them about the MS but also with the girls. Now that I’ve been distracted by Griff, I think I can handle going back to the hospital and seeing them before practice today.

  I grab an apple from the basket of fresh fruit on Griff’s counter and put my coffee cup in the dishwasher. Marco should be downstairs waiting for me by the time I make it down to the lobby. The doorman nods as I walk past.

  “Good morning, Marco,” I say as I slide into the SUV.

  “Good morning, Claire. Going to see Ms. Nelson today?”

  “Yes, please. We’ll stop by before you drop me at the studio.”

  “Very well,” he pulls out into the midmorning traffic.

  I feel so much better as I walk into Lilith’s room this morning. I stopped in the gift shop for a small floral arrangement. Hopefully, it’ll smooth over any bumps from my hasty exit yesterday. I knock lightly once, in case anyone is sleeping.

  “Come in,” Lilith’s voice is muffled through the door.

  “Hi,” I whisper as I walk in.

  Lilith is sitting with one of those curved pillows in front of her while she nurses one of the girls. She looks up at me with surprisingly clear eyes for a brand new mom of twins. I can almost see the love pouring off her as she gazes down at her daughter.

  “Which one is this?” I ask as I come up beside her.

  “Nora.” She smiles up at me. “She seems to be the calm one. Barely fusses unless she’s hungry.”

  “And Elle?” I ask with a grin.

  “Total opposite. Always making noise, super feisty.”

  “Can I hold Elle?” I go over to the sink and wash my hands while I wait for her answer.

  “Of course, she’s just been fed, so she should be sleepy. I told Con to go home to shower and take a nap.”

  I walk over to Elle’s bassinet and look down at her. She’s wrapped up tight in one of those baby burritos. I scoop her up and chuckle at the pissed off glare she gives me. It looks like she’s trying to figure out how to curse me in every language for having the nerve to disturb her.

  “I see what you mean about her attitude.” I run my finger through her wavy dark hair, astonished at the softness. “They are so gorgeous.” I blink to clear the tears from filling my eyes, but one manages to escape.

  “Was that a tear I just saw?” Lilith teases. “Did my baby finally crack the icy facade of the final Volkov to succumb to emotions?”

  “No.” I give her my best attempt at a playful glare. “There’s just dust mites in this shithole hospital. When was the last time they cleaned this place? 2004?”

  Lilith laughs. “Right. It’s okay to be moved by them.” Her smile falls a bit. “Actually, I’m glad I have you by myself for a bit. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah. I’m fine, why?” I mentally give myself a round of applause for how normal that sounded.

  “Well, you just have seemed a bit sad and withdrawn lately. I’m not the only one who noticed. Connor is really worried that you’ve stopped coming over so much in the past month or so. Even Levi noticed you seemed off yesterday.”

  “I’m fine, no one needs to be concerned about me. I’m just working really hard to get the lead slot for the Midsummer Exhibition.” That’s not even a lie, I am working hard for that. Harder than I’ve ever worked for anything in my life.

  “You left really suddenly yesterday, and you were clearly upset,” she pushes.

  “I just wasn’t expecting Mom to show up right after me. I didn’t want to be there with her trying too hard for something she’ll never have again.

  “Okay,” she backs off, but I can tell she thinks there’s more to the story than I’m letting on.

  “How was your first night as parents?” I ask to change the subject to neutral territory.

  I stay until Con comes back and then for a few minutes longer. I can tell by the sideways glances he keeps sending my way that he has questions and concerns, but I try to keep the conversation focused on the babies. When I stand to leave, he follows me out.

  “I’ll walk you down.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  I don’t argue anymore because I know it won’t change his mind, and this is one of the easy things to give into. As soon as we get on the elevator, he pulls the same move that Griff did yesterday.

  “Tell me what’s wrong right now, Claire.” His jade eyes spear me with determination.

  “What do you mean?” I ask innocently.

  “You’ve been weird for months. Dodging me. Not hanging out. Canceling plans last minute.” He leans against the wall. “This elevator isn’t going anywhere until you talk.”

  I comb through every possible excuse and settle on the same one I gave Lilith. Consistency is the key to this. “I’ve just been preoccupied with getting the principal dancer position for the upcoming exhibition. It’s difficult choreography, so I spend most of my time practicing.

  “You’ve lost weight.” It’s more of an accusation than a statement.

  “No, I’m just redistributing it.”

  “Bullshit. You’re coming over for dinner when we get home tomorrow night.”

  “Okay, I’ll be there.” I hold my hands up. “Now can we move, so I’m not late to practice?”

  He jabs his finger at the button and stares me down the rest of the way. When we get out to the car, he opens the door for me but pulls me in for a hug before I can get in. “You’d tell me if there was something going on, right? We don’t keep secrets from each other, and we sure as fuck don’t lie to each other.”

  “Yeah, I’d tell you, Con.” I squeeze him back ignoring the guilt that wraps around my heart and squeezes. “I love you.”

  “I love you, too.” He releases me and chats with Marco for a minute while I get situated. “See you, tomorrow.”

  10

  GRIFF

  “Mr. Potter, Levi Marsh is here for you,” McKenna announces over the intercom. “He just walked right past me—”

  “It’s fine,” I look up as the door opens, “thank you.”

  “That receptionist of yours is a thirsty one.” He stretches out in front of me on one of the chairs, dressed casually in shorts and a t-shirt.

  I have a feeling I know why he’s here and why he’s looking at me like he’s waiting for a confession. We stare each other down in a way that only two lifelong friends can.

  “You gonna tell me why you chased Baby V out of the hospital room like her ass was on fire the other day?”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I say as blandly as possible.

  “Your phone wasn’t ringing when you ran out. She was upset as soon as she walked into the room.” He narrows his eyes and tries to look intimidating.

  “Coincidence.”

  “I don’t think so.” He leans forward and moves shit around on my desk, just enough to annoy me. “I think something is going on between you two. I think something has been going on between you for a while. Since the wedding, to be exact.”

  I shake my head and fix my desk, so I don’t have to look him in the eye. As easily as lies come to me, I don’t think I could look in Levi’s eyes and flat out deny wha
t he’s saying.

  “Since you aren’t talking, I’ll elaborate on my theory. Ivy saw you follow Claire out during the reception, and neither of you ever showed back up. Then, the next morning, I came out of my room while you were going into yours. Still wearing your suit from the night before. Your hair looked like you’d been fucking all night long.”

  “Maybe I was fucking someone, but there were other people there for the wedding.”

  “No one single,” he raises a brow, “male or female, except for Baby V.”

  This has been eating away at me for weeks now. I look over at him as soon as I decide to end the charade and come clean. His eyes grow big when he realizes what I’m about to say.

  “Okay, fine. You’re right. Claire and I seeing each other.”

  “Duuudddeee.” He presses the heels of his hands against his eyes and shakes his head. “Not Baby V. Con’s gonna straight up murder you.”

  “You’re the second person to sit in that chair and say that. It’s more than kinky sex though.” I toss my pen down on the desk and lean back in my chair. “It’s not even kinky sex at all.”

  “Wait,” he scrunches his brow, “who else knows?”

  “Gwen. I needed advice way back when it started. She immediately started googling caskets.”

  “Shit, if there’s even a body left. We had the no-sisters pact, and you’re over here breaking it. When did this start? Help me understand, so I can keep you alive and Con out of prison.”

  “Technically, it started in Greece.”

  “Holy fuck!” he jumps out of the chair. “This has been going on for almost a year?”

  “No, we just kissed one night on the yacht after everyone went to bed. Then nothing happened again until the night of the wedding.”

  “When you fucked.”