Grace (The Family Simon Book 5)

by Juliana Stone

  Matt said nothing. His gaze found Grace again and she was looking at him as if she knew their little bubble was about to burst. She started walking toward him, joined by a concerned looking Betty Jo, but it was too late. He knew that now. He was shutting down and damned if he could do anything about it.

  Matt Hawkins had survived most of his life by closing himself off. He had a feeling if he was going to survive what was headed his way, he was going to have to go deep. Disappear entirely. Who knew if he’d find his way back? Who knew if there would be anyone left who gave a damn?

  “This is my cell. Text me your address.”

  He slipped the phone into his pocket and waited. He didn’t give either woman a chance to say anything.

  “I’m leaving.”

  Betty Jo didn’t seem surprised, but Grace sure as hell did.

  “What? Now?” Grace asked, eyes wide and searching.

  “I have to fly to Arizona. I’ve got a situation. Something that I need to look after.”

  Grace took the last few steps she needed to get close to him. “Does this have to do with Delilah?”

  She was smart. His girl. He nodded. “Yeah, it does.”

  “Who is she?”

  He could lie. Lord knows he’d done it in the past. But what was the point in hiding the truth anymore?

  “She married my dad when I was thirteen.”

  Grace glanced at Betty and then turned back to him. “Why are you going to Arizona? Why now? I mean, can’t it wait?”

  “No. It can’t. My father is dying. Might not last the night.”

  “Oh, Matt.” She reached for him, her warm hands on either side of his face. “I’m so sorry. I didn’t know. I…let me come with you.” Her voice caught. “I want to come with you.”

  Very carefully he peeled her hands from him and stood back, face expressionless and cold. Damn, but it felt as if the whole of northern Canada had seeped into his bones.

  “Matt, what’s going on?” Betty Jo’s eyes were shiny with unshed tears and she linked her hand through Grace’s. “What has Delilah done?”

  He needed to say his piece and get on with it. “Delilah’s son has gone missing and she needs my help.”

  Betty Jo frowned. “That’s what the police are there for.”

  “I can’t leave it up to the police. I need to do this.”

  “I get that,” Betty replied. “But Matt, you and I both know how poisonous Delilah is. She’s using your brother to get to you.”

  “I’m sure she is, but Justin. He’s just a kid.” He listened to his words. Took their meaning to heart. He’d resented the boy for so long that he’d never once considered the fact that he was blood. Matt’s blood.

  “I’m sorry. I gotta go.” He nodded to Betty. “You’ll look after her?”

  “Matt.” Grace yanked away from Betty, and threw herself at him. Her hands clutched at his jacket. “I want to help you. I want to be there for you. Why won’t you let me?”

  For one crazy second, he nearly let her. But then reality hit him square in the chest and he blew out a long breath, shaking his head. He gently removed her cold hands. No was was his poisonous family getting anywhere near her.

  “I’m sorry. I don’t want to hurt you but I have to go, and I need to do this alone.”

  Matt hunched his shoulders and headed for his truck. He didn’t bother with goodbyes and was well aware that every single Simon in residence watched him leave. He bypassed the bunky and blotted out the memories created the night before.

  He hopped into his truck and less than ten minutes later, Gravenhurst was in his rear view mirror. He rode in silence, his anger and frustration growing as his truck chewed up the miles. Each one of them bringing him closer to a past he wasn’t so sure he was ready to deal with.

  27

  Grace would have run after Matt. She would have tackled him, thrown her arms around him and begged him to take her with him. If he refused, she would have held on, even if it meant being dragged through the snow and ice and the gravel bits from the driveway.

  She would have done whatever it took to be there for him. He needed her. Why didn’t he see that?

  But her sister-in-law Betty Jo had other plans.

  “Let go of me,” Grace snapped, pushing against Betty with everything she had. “I need to go to him.” But it was no use. Betty was tenacious and strong and she wasn’t giving an inch.

  “Not a good idea, Grace. Trust me, if you crowd him now he’ll push back. He’ll push back hard.”

  “But,” she sputtered, trying like hell to yank her arm from Betty’s grasp. “He needs someone. Didn’t you see his eyes? His face? It’s like there’s…like there’s…”

  “It’s like there’s nothing there,” Betty said softly. “I know, Grace. I know Matt. I’ve known him since I can remember knowing anything or anyone who mattered.”

  Matt’s truck roared down the driveway and disappeared from sight. Grace managed to free herself from Betty Jo but it was too late. She took a few steps but then her legs wobbled and she nearly fell on her ass. He was gone.

  “I don’t believe this,” she whispered. Hot tears pricked the corners of her eyes. “We were having a good day. A good day…”

  “Grace. I don’t know what to say. I…”

  “Did you know about this? About Delilah? About this boy, Justin?” Grace whipped around to face her sister-in-law.

  Betty Jo’s face was white and she slowly shook her head. “He hated Delilah for what she did to his family.” She wrapped her arms around herself and her teeth chattered.

  “But what did she do?”

  Betty’s eyes fell away and Grace’s stomach roiled. She was going to be sick. She took a step away, but couldn’t take her eyes from Betty. Her sister-in-law looked so sad. So heartbroken.

  “Betty” Her voice broke. “What did she do?”

  “Matt told me something once, when we were drunk or high, or probably both. He said something that’s always stuck with me.” Betty glanced over her shoulder but Grace’s family kept a respectful distance—they were too far away to hear their conversation. She made a noise, a painful, awful noise that tore at Grace’s heart.

  “What did he tell you?”

  Betty Jo was silent for so long that Grace thought she might have to beat it out of her. And considering the emotional state she was in, that was a real possibility.

  “Matt told me that he hated Delilah more than he hated himself. And that he didn’t know if it was because he used to love her more than he loved himself.”

  “But what does that mean?”

  Betty shrugged. “I never asked him about it, and I’m sure he forgot what he said as soon as it came out of his mouth. You have to understand. Matt and I came together when we were both going through some pretty tough things. He’s my best friend. He knows things about me…things I shared with no one. But there’s a big part of his story that I don’t know.” She paused and wiped at her eyes. “And the ones that I do are heartbreaking and they’re not for me to share.”

  Eden Simon appeared on the upper deck. She smiled down at everyone, oblivious to what had just happened, and announced that the turkey was ready. The Simon men headed up with the kids, leaving the two women alone.

  “I can’t eat,” Grace said. “I can’t…” Her throat tightened and she clawed at her jacket, yanking the zipper down as she bent over. She saw the edge of Betty’s boot and shook her head violently. “Go away. I just want to be alone.”

  “I’ll tell your mom you’re not feeling well.” Betty took a few steps and paused. “Matt is worth saving. I’m just not sure he’ll let you. I’m not sure he’ll let anyone.”

  Grace didn’t answer. She ran for the bunky, closed herself in and rested against the door. It took a good long while for her to catch her breath and when she finally did, a guttural cry fell from her lips and she crashed onto the bed. It still smelled like him.

  She squeezed her eyes closed and cried her heart out.

  Her
world had just changed and Grace had no idea how to fix it. She had no idea how to fix Matt.

  She must have fallen asleep for hours because it was dark when her swollen eyes finally opened. Grace rolled onto her back and stared up at the ceiling. She felt heavy—as if she would sink through the bed, melt into the floor and disappear altogether.

  She’d been through some bad breakups before. Ones that had left her feeling sorry for herself and more than a little lost. But none of that compared to what she was feeling right now. With Matt gone, knowing he was hurt and alone and angry—she felt so damn helpless.

  Why hadn’t she told him how she felt? She loved the man, for God sake. That had to mean something, didn’t it?

  Grace swung her feet over the edge of the bed and sat up, groaning as a wave of dizziness washed over her. Just then a knock at the door sounded and her mother walked in.

  Eden Simon turned on the lamp and immediately enfolded Grace in her arms. Grace might have cried. She might have poured her heart out right then and there. But she had nothing left inside and no clue what to say.

  “He’s gone.” That was all she had.

  Her mother stroked her forehead and kissed her cheek. “I know.”

  The two women rocked together in silence and Grace was grateful to have a loving, giving mother to hold on to. What had Matt ever had? As a young child had his mother wiped his brow and told him everything was going to be okay? Had his father kissed him and tucked him in at night? Had he known real love?

  The sad truth was, she didn’t know. And it was the not knowing that fired her up.

  “I have to go to him.” She pulled away from her mother. “I need to go to him.”

  Eden was quiet for a few moments. She brushed back the mess of hair that hung over Grace’s eyes and tucked it behind her ear.

  “You love him,” her mother whispered, sadness making her eyes shiny and wet.

  Grace nodded. “I thought I knew what love was. What real love was. But I was so wrong. This thing between Matt and me…This love that I have for him is different. I guess it’s why it hurts more. Wanting to go after him is not just about being hurt that he left. It’s about knowing him and knowing he has some pretty awful things to deal with. It’s about knowing he thinks he needs to deal with them on his own. That breaks my heart.”

  “He might reject you. If you go. That’s a real possibility.”

  “I know. But what kind of person doesn’t at least try? Even knowing they might get hurt more than they already are?”

  Grace watched her mother closely and saw something unexpected in her eyes. Sorrow.

  Her mother cleared her throat and appeared to struggle to find the words. “When I was twenty-one I met a man who changed my life. And no it wasn’t your father.” A soft smile touched her face. “That came later.”

  Eden played with the edge of the coverlet and glanced out the window into the dark. “His name was Ransome Belmont. He was the son of the foreman who worked Cousin Pierre’s sugar cane plantation. He was tall and handsome and so full of life. A real devil and up until that time the most exciting man I’d ever met. I fell for him the minute I laid eyes on him.”

  “You never told me this.”

  Eden shook her head. “It’s not a nice story to tell. You see, Ransome had his demons. He liked to gamble almost as much as he liked his bourbon. I didn’t notice it at first. Was too caught up in being in love. My mother warned me off and promised never to tell Daddy if I stopped seeing him. So I lied to my own mother and we carried on in secret. You see, she didn’t know him the way I did. She didn’t see what he was like when we were alone at the swimming hole. Or sneaking out to dance until dawn. She didn’t know…”

  “His gambling and drinking got worse and near the end, I was stealing jewels from your grandmother’s collection so we could pawn them for money to pay back his debts. The day that I stole my mother’s emerald ring, one that had been passed down over three generations, I found Ransome in bed with two of my so-called girlfriends. He was drunk and of course filled with shame. He threw the girls out. He begged for forgiveness. But I was hurt and having none of it. I was done forgiving him. I left and he never got the ring. That night I heard he’d been beaten so badly they didn’t think he was going to live.”

  “Did he live?”

  She nodded. “He did. He came by the house a few months later, but I refused to see him. He wrote letters. He called. But I refused all of it. He broke my heart and killed my pride. Made me question myself. That scenario repeated itself for nearly a year until he hung himself on Christmas Eve.”

  “Oh, Mom.” Grace laid her head on her mother’s chest. “I’m so sorry that happened.”

  “A few months passed and I pulled out those letters. I read every word of every one and I realized that maybe if I’d gone to him, if I’d helped him, he might not have taken his life. He hurt me, yes, but I still had all those afternoons at the swimming hole. I still had the good part that was him. The part that wasn’t eaten away by his addictions.”

  Eden pulled at a loose thread and hugged her daughter. “I’ll never know if I could have saved Ransome, because I wasn’t strong enough to live through the very real possibility of being hurt again.” She kissed the top of Grace’s head. “I think that you’re stronger than me.”

  Grace peered up into her mother’s eyes. “You’re crazy. You’re the strongest woman that I know.”

  Eden shrugged, a tremulous smile on her face. “Maybe. But you, my darling, are stronger. So go to this man who’s managed to win your heart. Be there for him. And I pray to God that he’s worthy. I hope that he accepts your support and will return it in kind when needed.”

  “He is,” Grace answered fiercely.

  Another knock sounded and Betty Jo poked her head inside. She looked worried and sad and worn out. “Everything all right?”

  Eden got to her feet and held her hand out for her mother. “I’m going to Arizona.”

  “Grace, I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

  “I don’t really care what you think, Betty. I’m going. I have to.”

  A heartbeat passed.

  “Okay.” Betty sighed. “I’m coming with you.”

  28

  Matt was able to book a flight out of Toronto and he touched down in Phoenix at just after nine o’clock, Arizona time. The airport was dead—not surprising considering it was Thanksgiving day, and most people were slumped in lazy boys, knee deep in turkey comas surrounded by their families.

  He hadn’t eaten in hours, but with no appetite to speak of, he didn’t much care.

  Matt had no baggage to claim and, after securing a rental, was on the road. He’d texted Delilah from Toronto and advised her he’d be at the hospice by ten. He’d asked if there was any news of Justin. She replied with a long rambling message, the gist of it being that, no, as of yet she had no idea where her son was at. But that he’d texted her and appeared to be okay.

  The whole thing sounded off, but Matt was too preoccupied to sort it out. He’d do that later.

  He pulled into the parking lot of Compassionate Care just shortly after the top of the hour, and checked his phone. But there were no new messages, and nothing from Grace. Not surprising, considering he’d been such a bastard.

  He gripped the steering wheel so tightly his fingers cramped, and then slid from the truck, slamming the door so hard that the vehicle shook. Of course it did nothing to alleviate his anger. How could it? He was cornered and this time there was nowhere to run. This time his past wouldn’t let go.

  But maybe that was okay. Maybe it was finally time for him to deal with it once and for all.

  He strode across the parking lot and entered a brightly lit foyer. The front desk was manned by a young woman who immediately straightened up when she spied him. She smoothed her bleach blond hair, and licked her glossy lips while tugging her top down a bit. Large blue eyes looked up at him as he approached and she smiled.

  Matt wasn’t in the mood to s
ocialize or make small talk. He couldn’t even crack an answering smile. “I need to know where Benjamin Hawkins is.”

  Her smile faltered a bit and she glanced at her computer. “Of course. Are you family?” She snapped her gum and blew a bubble. “I’m sorry I have to ask.”

  Family? What the hell was family.

  “Yeah,” he replied gruffly. “I am.”

  “Okay, let me check the list to see if you’re on it. What’s your name?”

  “Matt Hawkins.”

  A middle aged woman came from nowhere, sobbing uncontrollably into her tissue. Her grief was loud and messy and real and Matt kept his focus on the girl at the desk. He just wanted to get this over.

  “Okay. Your dad is in room 211. That’s up the stairs.” She pointed to her right. “And then turn left.”

  He nodded and headed up to the second floor. Less than thirty seconds later, he found himself standing in front of 211. How long stood there staring at the damn door was anyone’s guess. He probably would have stood there all night if it hadn’t swung open on its own.

  Delilah hesitated, her eyes puffy and red. “Oh.” She sniffled. “You’re here.”

  She closed the door behind herself and began to cry. Big, huge, teardrops that made unattractive tracks down her face. “I’m so glad you came,” she managed to say between sniffles and whimpers.

  He felt nothing for her, not a damn thing. He’d seen her crocodile tears before and had no interest in knowing if these ones were the real deal or an act.

  “I don’t want you in there with me.”

  He made no effort to hide his dislike and the tears stopped rolling with one last sniffle. Delilah patted her hair. She opened her mouth to say something and then obviously thought better of it. She grabbed a tube of lipstick from her purse and applied it carefully, eyes on Matt the whole time.

  The woman disgusted him.

  “I’m going for a coffee. Do you want anything Mattie?”

  He strode past her without another word and entered room 211. He smelled it immediately—the unmistakable scent of death. His eyes were drawn to the bed. A slight form lay there, sucked into the mattress and pillows it seemed, and monitors blinked and beeped in the background. The sound of his breathing was hard to listen to.