Torn (Thornton Brothers Book 4)

by Sabre Rose

  He looked at me a while longer, as if weighing up his options and then leaned back in the chair, his hands behind his head. “Dad was the one who was going to show me the ropes. He had begun, in fact, you know, before. But now that he’s unavailable—”

  “He’ll be back soon.”

  “He’s being sent on a thirty-day rehab and anger management course,” Gabe replied.

  I didn’t know that, but I wasn’t about to let him know. “And your point is?”

  “I’m left a little uncertain of my role within the company.”

  “And you would like me to do what, exactly?” I looked up at him openly this time, meeting his eye and glaring with as much hatred as I could muster.

  “Help,” he said. “I’m not sure what to do. Dad had only just started with the—”

  I lifted the lid of my laptop and turned my attention back to the screen. “See Sadie on your way out. She’ll tell you someone that will be able to help.”

  “But don’t you think with all that’s going on, the media fishing for more stories, we should at least pretend to have a unified front, for the sake of the family, the company?”

  “I would hardly call a local online gossip rag the media. And as for a unified front?” I said, the anger causing my cheeks to flush. “You kissed my girl, how unified was that?”

  “After you stole her from me.”

  “I never once kissed her while she was with you. Well,” I smirked, “not that I initiated, anyway.”

  The muscles in Gabe’s jaw bulged back and forth as he gritted his teeth together. “I’m trying here, Tyler. I’m trying to—”

  Slamming the lid of my laptop down, I stood and leaned over the desk. “I don’t care what you’re trying to do you little piece of shit. Go grow up somewhere else. Right now, I can’t stand the sight of you so please fucking leave before I give you matching black eyes.”

  Gabe rose from his seat without a word and walked out the door, leaving me to draw in a ragged breath at his departure.

  Sadie walked in as soon as he left.

  “I suppose you heard all that?”

  “You suppose right.” She crossed her arms and glared at me in the way only Sadie could.

  “And you think I shouldn’t have reacted the way I did?”

  “I think it’s time you went to see Lauren.”

  “She told me to leave her alone. I’m a man of my word.”

  “You’re stupid, that's what you are. You’ve been trying to hide it but I can smell the alcohol on your clothing in the morning. I can see the lack of sleep in the dark patches under your eyes. I see the mounds of leftover food. You need to go sort this.”

  I sat back down in my chair. “And what do I say? What can I say?”

  “The truth.”

  “Which is?”

  “Tell her you were wrong. Tell her you’ve been lost without her. Tell her everything and anything that’s on your mind. But most of all, listen.”

  “And if that doesn’t work?”

  “Well, at least you would have tried. It’s been three days. She’s had time to think, now it’s time for you to go and see her before you lose her completely.”

  2

  LAUREN

  My room was chaos. Clothing I hadn’t worn in years littered the floor. Empty plates streaked with food stains sat on the bedside cabinet and the curtains were drawn, letting little light into the small room. Morgan sat on the end of my bed as I hid under the covers. Only the occasional tap of her fingers told me she was casually scrolling through the news feed on her phone.

  Pulling the covers down, she turned the phone around and a frozen frame of Tyler, complete with split lip, was shoved in my face. “Was it sexy?”

  “Sexy?” I repeated, pushing the phone away.

  “Having them fight over you? Like, literally fight. Physically. With punches and split lips and black eyes and blood.” She said the word blood like some sort of starved vampire.

  I groaned and snuggled deeper down in the bed, still keeping the covers firmly at eye level. “Go away.”

  Morgan adjusted herself on the edge of the bed, hooking one ankle under her knee and making no move to leave. “I know I shouldn’t, but I think I’d like it if two men fought over me. Alistair’s never had to fight for me. I’m not sure if he would. He would probably want to work things out in some pathetic talk or something. That man’s got no backbone.”

  I sighed deeply but it was lost in the bed covers. “Not when it proves that the one you actually love doesn’t trust you.”

  “True,” she replied absently, turning her attention back to the phone. “You should see the comments. Some people are certain the fight was over a girl. They’re even claiming they know who the girl is. Did you make new friends I’m unaware of?” Morgan shoved the rise of my hips, causing the bed to wobble. “Others say it was because Tyler was jealous Gabe got some promotion at work.”

  I threw the covers off and got out of bed. “Fine,” I huffed. “I’ll get up. And you shouldn’t be reading that stupid gossip column. It’s just people with nothing better to do.”

  “About time,” Morgan muttered.

  For the past four days, I had holed myself up in my childhood bedroom, hiding from the world, binging on peanut M&Ms—surprisingly supplied by my mother—and watching daytime television on the smallest TV screen in the world, although Mother assured me that it was perfectly fine. I think she dug it out of storage. I needed to be back in the city soon for a meeting, but going back to the city meant facing Tyler and I wasn’t sure I was ready for that.

  Crossing my arms, I glared at Morgan. “For the record, Gabe didn’t receive any promotion. He just got a similar position.”

  “I take it by your delightful mood today he still hasn’t called?”

  I didn’t reply and dragged an old suitcase out of my wardrobe. “Help me pack.”

  Morgan looked up from her perch on the bed, shook her head and then scooted further back to prop herself against the wall. She flashed the screen in my direction again, this time showing an image of Gabe. “I think you should invite him over for a visit. I’d be more than happy to comfort the poor boy.”

  “For fuck’s sake, Morgan, you’re married.”

  Morgan chewed on her bottom lip, attempting to contain a grin. “Did you just swear?”

  “And what if I did?”

  She shrugged, the grin still barely hidden. “Nothing. I won’t say another word.” She turned her attention back to her cell phone again, scrolling through photo after photo of that dreadful night. “Nothing like a good old scandal to arouse interest, is there? Half these people would have never even heard of Thornton Industries before this and now they’re all over it like hungry wolves. Suddenly it matters how many properties they own, what cars they drive, how much money was donated to charity. A week ago they didn’t give a crap.”

  Dragging clothes from the closet, I threw them into the faded and slightly torn case. The clothes were dated. Badly. And most of them wouldn’t fit me anymore. I was a little more curvaceous in my thirties than I was in my teens.

  “I do have to admit that Alistair and I potentially had the best sex we’ve ever had after your little scene, though.”

  I froze in the middle of pulling a denim jacket out of the closet. “Excuse me?”

  “It got me a little hot and bothered, all that drama at the table, the way Tyler spoke to Mum when she called you barren, the fight between him and Gabe. I literally jumped him when we got back to the room.”

  Covering my ears with my hands, I shook my head. “Please make it stop.”

  “He was into it too. He was a lot more aggressive than normal. I liked it. Usually he just sort of climbs on top and does his thing while I moan and make noises that I know will make him finish sooner.”

  I started humming to cover the sound of her voice, but she stood and walked over, pulling a dress out of the closet, before leaning close. “Oh Alistair,” she moaned. “Oh yes, just like that. Yes,
yes, yes,” she imitated climaxing. “Fuck me, Alistair!” She laughed at my expression. “Oh, my dear little sister. How easy it is to shock you, but I bet you have stories of your own, don’t you?”

  “Can we please change the subject?”

  “You’re no fun, you know that?”

  “So you keep telling me.”

  Morgan examined the dress in her hands. “Please tell me you’re not set to repel men by wearing this, are you?”

  I ripped the material from her. “Don’t you have somewhere else to be?”

  “But then who would help you with this very important task of packing clothing that you haven’t worn in years? And nor should you,” she muttered. “Did you really use to dress like this? I seriously wonder what Derek saw in you.”

  “It’s for charity.”

  “Charity?” Morgan picked out another dress and held it against her body. “I’m not sure charity would want this.”

  “Well, they can cut it up and use it as rags, for all I care. It’s not about the clothing.”

  Tossing the dress to join the others on the floor, Morgan resumed her position on the bed. “What is it about then?”

  “I’m cleaning. I’m sorting. I’m organising. I’m creating a fresh start.”

  “Wouldn’t that entail chucking out the clothes you actually wear?”

  “They aren’t here. And even if they were, it’s not like I can afford a new wardrobe. Just consider this symbolic.”

  Morgan tilted her head to the side. “Of?”

  “Of creating a fresh start, you idiot.” I threw a shoe, which she dodged and it hit the wall, leaving a black smudge.

  “Mum’s going to tell you off,” she mocked in a tell-tale voice.

  “I’m creating a new me. One that doesn’t need a man. Especially a man that doesn’t trust me. And especially a man with the name Thornton.”

  “So you’re going back to Derek then?”

  I threw the other shoe, but again she swerved away from it and it hit the wall.

  “That’s two marks now. Mum’s going to be so pissed. She may even ground you.” Morgan picked up one of the shoes and turned it over in her hands, examining it as though it were a foreign object she was tasked to identify. “Will you move back to your old house?”

  “No,” I said firmly. I had already tossed the question around my head over the last few days. “It’s rented out for another eight months yet, they are good tenants, and my business is in the city.”

  “With Tyler’s assistant?”

  “She’s leaving the company.”

  Morgan rolled her eyes. “Good timing.” The shoe was thrown into the air and landed neatly in the suitcase. “Hey,” Morgan said, clearly pleased. “Did you see that? I’ve still got it.” She mimicked throwing a netball into a hoop. “So where are you going to live?”

  “I’m not sure yet.”

  “Off to a good start then.”

  “Morgan, please,” I groaned. “I’m dealing with this. I’m going to get everything sorted.” I pulled myself up straight and set my shoulders. “I’m going to concentrate on my business and let life take me where it wills.”

  “Really taking charge there, huh?”

  At my cold glare, Morgan held up her hands. “Okay, I get it. I’ll stop.”

  “Good.”

  “Good,” she repeated. She was silent for a while, turning her attention back to her phone, before putting it down and sighing. “I know I said I’d stop but are you really going to let this one little fight break you up?”

  My shoulders slumped. “It wasn’t this one little fight. He can’t get over the fact that I was with Gabe and there’s nothing I can do about that.”

  “But he knew that when you started dating.”

  “Yep. He knew it. I knew it. But with Gabe moving to the city and working within the same company, things were just going to get harder not easier.”

  “So you decided you’re better off without either of them.”

  “Exactly,” I agreed, though there was little conviction to my words. The truth was, I didn’t know what I wanted. I wanted Tyler, but I also wanted Tyler to trust me. His actions so far proved he didn’t. And the fact that he hadn’t even bothered to call. Mind you, I hadn’t either. We were stuck in some strange communication standoff, both of us waiting for the other to make the first move. And I’d been tempted. I’d typed out messages, brought up his contact details and stared at the numbers until they blurred together, but I never pressed the button.

  “Even though you adore him?”

  Her words hit me hard and a rush of tears welled. I sat on the bed beside her and stared out at the mess I had created. “Even though I adore him,” I repeated.

  Morgan opened her arms and I fell into them, leaning against her shoulder as she squeezed me tightly. “You’re going to be okay.”

  “I’m going to be okay,” I said robotically.

  “No,” Morgan corrected. “You’re going to be fucking wonderful.”

  I laughed and pushed away from her. “Careful, or you’ll take the title of black sheep of the family away from me.”

  Morgan patted my cheek. “Oh my dear sweet sister, how naïve you are. I married my high school sweetheart, who I never had pre-marital sex with and gave birth to a beautiful daughter, providing a grandchild. I’m still married. I live close to my parents and I work as a part-time music teacher. You, on the other hand, got pregnant before marriage, lost the baby, got dumped, started a relationship with a man ten years your junior and then dumped him for his older brother. No matter what I do, I could never take that title from you.”

  “Cheers for the support.”

  “Anytime, sister dearest. Anytime.”

  3

  LAUREN

  Having given up on my new start in life beginning with the cleaning of my childhood bedroom, I closed the door to the mess and made my way down the hall, following Morgan. I hadn’t bothered to get dressed and was wearing shorty-pyjamas that came from the late nineties. I hadn’t washed my hair since I arrived, and had barely washed my face. In fact, I think I may have had the colours of peanut M&Ms smudged across my chin.

  But when I walked into the kitchen I didn’t think of any of that, because, when I rounded that corner, I found Tyler sitting at the kitchen table next to my mother with one of the family photo albums open.

  “Tyler!” Morgan exclaimed, turning to look at me with wide eyes. “What a surprise to see you here.” Her hand snuck across the table and slapped the photo album shut. “Too far, Mum,” she muttered and shook her head, clasping the album under her arm. “No one should have to see those.”

  I was stuck in the doorway, transfixed by the sight of him. Dressed in a dark t-shirt and jeans, he sat at the table, looking as beautiful as I'd ever seen him. My heart lurched. His dark hair hung loosely over his forehead instead of being swept back like he wore at work. And it was slightly damp. Flashes of Tyler in the shower, the water streaming over his naked body as he ran his hands through his hair, came to the fore of my mind. My heart began to race.

  Tyler locked eyes with me. “Lauren.” Just the sound of my name on his lips had me fighting the urge to run to him, wrap my arms around his neck and kiss him like there was no tomorrow.

  “Lauren,” my mother’s harsh tone cut through my thoughts. “Aren’t you at least going to say hello? Tyler’s come all this way to see you.”

  “Hi.” My hand waved of its own accord. A tiny, pathetic wave. Cursed hand. Clearing my throat, I attempted to regain my composure, although I wasn’t sure it was possible dressed in pyjamas that were clearly too small for me.

  “You could have at least got dressed,” Mother muttered as if reading my thoughts.

  I tugged the hem of the shorts down a little. “I would have if I had known we had visitors,” I replied, taking the seat opposite Tyler. His eyes stuck on me like glue. I met them briefly but had to look away when my chest began to ache from the intensity of his gaze. He was searching my expre
ssion, trying to gain a sense of my thoughts. I didn’t want him to see, so I set my eyes on the table and slid part of the newspaper over so I would at least have something to look at.

  Mother whipped the paper away. “Don’t be so rude, Lauren. This man has come all this way to see you, the least you can do is be polite.” The more she treated me like a child, the more I wanted to act like one, although I did resist the urge to give her the fingers behind her back.

  “It wasn’t far,” Tyler said to Mother, though I could still feel the heat of his gaze on me. “Could we perhaps go somewhere and have a conversation?”

  My mind screamed. Conflicting thoughts battled for dominance. Yes. More than anything yes. Take me away. Give me privacy so I can lose myself in you. No. Stay away. I can’t be near you. I can’t inhale your scent, I can’t get close and not want you to touch me.

  “Well, away you go,” Mother flicked a tea-towel in my direction. “All he’s asking for is a conversation.”

  Tyler removed his gaze, but only to throw a withering glance Mother’s way. “Please?” he said, though the word was ripped from his throat like it was torture for him to use it.

  Without answering, I rose from the table and Tyler followed. We walked down the hallway and I opened the door to my small bedroom. “Sorry,” I said waving my hand over the mess. “I’m in the middle of something.”

  Tyler blinked when he entered, his eyes adjusting to the dim light. “In the middle of a hurricane perhaps?” he asked.

  I pushed some clothing off the bed and indicated for him to sit. The only problem was it left nowhere for me to sit except next to him, so I awkwardly folded my arms across my chest and leaned against the wall. He looked out of place perched on the edge of my single bed, staring at the posters and photos that covered my walls, faded and worn with age. After a few moments of silence, he leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees and looked at me.

  And there were those eyes again.

  The ones I didn’t want to meet because I was afraid of the response they would elicit. I was afraid my body would betray my mind. I was afraid my mind would betray my body.