End Game

by Samantha Wayland

  Rhian spun in his chair, barely catching a glimpse of Buddy bearing down on him before a huge and powerful fist slammed into his temple. The world went black. The next thing he knew, his head was hitting the paving stones beneath their table.

  Stunned, he blinked to try to clear his head. He heard Garrick shout and chairs screeching across brick all around him.

  I need to get up, damn it.

  Years of practice let him do it. He spun to face Buddy on unsteady legs, shivering at the cold rage in his beady eyes.

  He’d felt an instant kinship with Chelsea, but there was nothing like that with his brother.

  No. Not my brother. Just as he had at age four, he would damn well choose who he called family. And this fucker wasn’t it.

  Buddy struggled to hold onto Chelsea as he dragged her toward the sidewalk. She clawed and kicked at him, almost succeeding in breaking free. Her brother wrapped a meaty arm around her neck.

  Rhian’s head throbbed—the bastard packed a wallop—but his feet felt connected to the earth again. He plowed through the tables toward Buddy. “What the fuck do you want?”

  Buddy snarled at him. “I told you to stay away from her!”

  His arm tightened and Chelsea’s eyes bulged. Rhian could hear her breath scraping past the constriction. Barely. Rhian stopped moving.

  His eyes never left Buddy’s as Garrick sidled to the right. Savannah’s hand clenched the back of Rhian’s shirt, a reassuring presence in a world gone haywire.

  Buddy’s gaze swung to Garrick. “Stop or I’ll punch her in the head like she deserves.”

  “Stay there. Please.” Chelsea looked at Garrick, her gaze pleading. “I don’t want anyone to get hurt. I’m okay. I’ll go home with him.”

  Garrick put his hands up and froze. Buddy backed away.

  Rhian couldn’t tear his eyes off his sister. “Chelsea. Are you sure?”

  “Yes, it’s okay. I’ll contact you later.”

  Buddy shook her by her neck. “You’ll never speak to any of them again.”

  Rhian and Garrick both took another step.

  “No! It’s okay,” Chelsea cried. She tried to look over her shoulder at Buddy. “It’s okay, Buddy. I agree. I’ll never talk to them again.”

  Rhian thought his heart would crack in two. He clenched his teeth to force back the shout of denial. He almost didn’t see Chelsea wink at him as her brother dragged her away.

  They stood where they were, arrayed across the café, until Chelsea disappeared around the corner. Then Garrick ran to them, clamping his hands on Rhian’s arms and holding him steady as Savannah immediately began a thorough examination of his injuries. She turned his face to the sun and he winced against the flare of pain.

  “Eyes are reacting to light,” she murmured, pressing her fingers against the growing welt on his temple.

  “Ouch.”

  She grimaced. “I think he just stunned you. Do you feel nauseous?”

  “I’m fine.” His need to take deep breaths belied his assertion entirely. “Or I will be. Maybe a concussion, but I don’t think so.”

  He let Savannah move his head and check his eyes again while Garrick waved off members of the café staff, promising everything was all right.

  Rhian wished like hell that was true.

  Savannah ran her fingers down his cheek. “What do you want to do?”

  “Can I call Chance?”

  Savannah didn’t question him. She pulled out her phone and speed-dialed her brother-in-law. Rhian took the phone and led them to a quiet corner of the patio.

  Chance answered immediately. “What can I do for you, sister of my heart?”

  Rhian blinked. “Hey, it’s Rhian. Do you seriously answer the phone that way every time Savannah calls you?”

  Chance’s big laugh boomed in his ear and he winced against the pounding in his skull. “What can I do for you Rhian?”

  “I need your advice.” He explained what had happened. When he was done, there was a long silence on the other end of the line. “I’m going to put you on speaker. Garrick and Savannah are here.”

  He thought he heard Chance mutter, “Of course they are,” as he pulled the phone from his ear.

  “Rhian, how do you feel about going to the cops with this?” Chance asked once they could all hear him.

  “Not great. Why?”

  “If Chelsea is in danger at home, the best way to protect her is to make sure the cops know she lives with a psycho.”

  “Even if it means risking setting off that psycho? And giving him, and probably my mother, my name?”

  “According to Chelsea, she and Buddy haven’t told your mother anything. There’s always a chance she won’t figure out who you really are.”

  Rhian laughed bitterly. “God, you’re probably right. Even if she saw me, she probably wouldn’t have a fucking clue.”

  Savannah’s arm slid around his waist and Garrick leaned into his side.

  Chance’s sigh was clear through the speaker. “I’m sorry, man. It’s not right. But I do think pressing charges is the best way to go.”

  Rhian had known Chance was a law-and-order kind of guy before he called, so he wasn’t surprised. Not really. Rhian recalled his promise to himself to be Chelsea’s brother in truth.

  “I fucking hate it,” he admitted, “but I’m going to do it.”

  Chance got down to business, directing them to the police station in city hall right across the street. “Ask for Patrick Brown when you get there. And keep an eye out for me. I’m on my way.”

  The line went dead. Rhian handed the phone back to Savannah.

  Her forehead was lined with worry. “Are you sure?”

  He wasn’t sure about any of this. He smiled sadly. “What would your brothers do if it was you in trouble?”

  Savannah sighed and nodded.

  Together, all three of them turned and walked toward the police station.

  Garrick, Savannah and Chance stood a few feet away while Rhian sat in the chair by Detective Patrick Brown’s desk and told him everything, including how he knew Chelsea. Garrick tried not to flinch. The proverbial fan was spinning on high and the shit was flying toward it at full speed.

  Garrick twitched with the need to protect Rhian from his mother. He wanted to haul Rhian out of that damn chair and drag him home right now. But he couldn’t. Wouldn’t. This was Rhian’s choice and damned if he wasn’t making a good one, in spite of the risks.

  When Rhian was finished, Detective Brown—Patrick, as Chance had introduced his friend—called Savannah over, and Rhian came to stand near him and Chance. But not near enough. He was stiff as a board, never touching Garrick. Garrick swayed toward him, hoping to bump shoulders, but Rhian edged away. There was a clear boundary around Rhian now, and Garrick didn’t think he could penetrate it without tackling him to the ground.

  Fuck.

  By the time it was his turn, he was sweating bullets, certain Rhian would bolt as soon as he turned his back. He ran through the events for Patrick with as little emotion as possible, repeatedly glancing over at Rhian. He stood a good three feet apart from Savannah and Chance. Garrick’s stomach churned.

  As soon as he was done, the others came over.

  Patrick looked up at Rhian. “You have more than enough cause and witnesses. I’ll stop by the café today to speak with the staff to get corroboration, then I’ll bring him in.”

  “Fine,” Rhian said from much farther away than was necessary.

  They waited while Patrick filled out the last of the paperwork. Garrick forced himself not to stare at Rhian, let alone glare until he burned a hole through that thick skull. When it was his turn to sign, he noticed a framed picture of Patrick with his arms around a man in a tuxedo and a beautiful woman wearing white.

  He stared at the picture for a long time until Patrick cleared his throat.

  “Sorry,” Garrick said lamely. He noticed Patrick wore a wedding ring. “Is that your ah—” Shit, husband? Wife? He couldn’t tell which of
the two people in the picture Patrick was married to. “—wedding?”

  Patrick grinned, his entire face lighting up. “It is.”

  Chance seemed to find Garrick’s question hilarious.

  “That’s my husband, Brandon.” Patrick said.

  Garrick smiled. “Congratulations.”

  “And my wife, Destiny.”

  “Oh…ah…”

  For the life of him, Garrick didn’t know what the hell to say. A surprised but nervous laugh burst from Savannah.

  Chance chuckled and slapped Patrick on the back. “Best wedding we’ve been to in years. That was a hell of a party.”

  “Thanks.”

  While the two men reminisced, Garrick looked over at Rhian and barely resisted the urge to leap from the chair. He’d moved even farther away. Savannah reached for him, but he darted back another step, leaving her hand suspended in air.

  Chance’s eyebrows rose as he took it all in.

  Savannah’s hand fell to her side. Garrick stayed seated. Rhian fell into the chair at the next desk over as if his legs wouldn’t support him any longer.

  Garrick had always wondered what it sounded like when the shit hit the fan. Turned out, it was deathly quiet.

  Chapter Thirty Seven

  Savannah tried to get some work done, but it was a waste of time. Every time she saw Rhian, she was shocked he was still there in the apartment, and hadn’t run out the door. He sure as hell had left the building in every other way.

  She’d examined his eyes and bruises a dozen times since they’d returned to the apartment from the police station. She was certain he was physically fine. Emotionally, all bets were off.

  Her phone rang and she answered the call without looking at her phone. “Hello?”

  “When will you get here tomorrow?”

  “Uh…whaa?”

  Her mother sighed. “Did you forget you and Garrick are supposed to come out here tomorrow, so we can finally meet him?”

  She sure as shit had. Damn. “Uh, no. I’m sorry. I’m just distracted.” She paused to collect her thoughts. “It’s been a strange day.”

  Garrick muttered, “You can say that again,” from the other side of the kitchen island. He was staring at Rhian, too.

  “Well, I hope you can still make it. We want to meet this man. You said he was the one, after all, and Dad and I need to check the man who managed to turn your head so thoroughly.”

  You already met one of the two, Mom. Surprise!

  Savannah rubbed her temple. “Yeah, sure, Mom. We’ll come out tomorrow morning.” Rhian looked over at her from the couch. “And if it’s all right with you, we’ll stay at the inn.”

  “Oh sure. I don’t expect the two of you to sleep in one twin bed.”

  If only it were that simple. “Great. Also, Rhian will be with us,” she said as casually as humanly possible.

  She could feel Rhian burning holes in her back with his eyes. She probably should have asked both men if they minded, let alone wanted to go, but she wasn’t going to give Rhian a chance to say no.

  “Oh, okay,” he mother said blithely. “Tell him he can stay here at the house if he’d like.”

  “I’ll let him know,” she said, lying through her teeth.

  “Wonderful!”

  Savannah tried to brush off the guilt. She’d figure out how to tell her mother. Maybe this weekend. But not now. And not on the phone.

  They chatted for a while and Savannah told her mother about Rhian’s test results. She held the phone away from her ear and felt a surge of victory when Rhian smiled at her mother’s loud shouts of congratulations.

  As soon as her mother was finished, though, Rhian went back to the compulsive channel surfing that had captured his attention for the better part of the afternoon.

  Rhian stared at the phone in his hand and wondered how the hell this day could go any more sideways. A text had just come in from his agent, Sergio.

  Got a line on Boston and Pittsburgh. Any preference?

  Damned if Rhian knew.

  Two months ago, it would have been Pittsburgh without hesitation. A couple hundred miles separation from Garrick, Savannah, and Boston was just what he’d had in mind.

  Now? What the hell did he want?

  He glanced over at his lovers, who were both trying very hard not to be obvious that they were watching him like a pair of hawks.

  Can I get back to you?

  He was pretty sure he knew what Sergio was going to think of that request.

  Dude. Not much time. If I don’t hear from you, I will go with better deal.

  Rhian’s heart squeezed painfully in his chest. Understood.

  How cowardly would it be to let Sergio make the decision for him? Pretty fucking pathetic, he decided.

  He jumped up when someone knocked on their door.

  “I’ll get it,” Rhian called before either Savannah or Garrick could get up from their work. After sitting and staring at nothing for an hour, he was suddenly restless.

  Hand on the doorknob, he paused. Maybe he should march right back into the kitchen and tell Savannah he was in love with her. Their reactions would certainly help him decide what the hell he was going to do next.

  The knocking started up again. Declarations of love would have to wait a few minutes.

  He opened the door and all thoughts of the future, of love, disappeared.

  Rhian backed away, his heart turned to stone, his legs numb.

  He’d wondered if he’d recognize her. He did. Instantly.

  “Mother.”

  A stool crashed to the floor in the kitchen.

  “Shut up. Don’t call me that,” she snapped as she blew into the apartment on a waft of expensive floral perfume and slammed the door behind her. “What if someone heard you?”

  He realized he was backing away from her when he walked into Savannah and Garrick behind him. They each put a hand on his back and stood at his shoulders, aligning themselves with him. Against her.

  It didn’t help.

  “What do you want?”

  “What do you think I want? How dare you accuse Buddy of assaulting you? He was protecting his sister.”

  Memories, long lost, resurfaced. Her anger. Rage. She’d said he’d ruined her life.

  He swallowed. “What do you want?”

  “Buddy is loyal to me.” She said it as if Rhian hadn’t been. At age four? “He’s my best friend. I will not let you sully his reputation with these charges. He’s my son.”

  Clearly, she chose to believe she only had one of those. How nice for her. And she was lecturing him on loyalty?

  He stood a little straighter. He had a good six inches and at least a hundred pounds on her. Rather than react like a child in the face of his mother’s rage, he locked gazes with her. “Buddy is a goddamn—”

  The door burst open and Chelsea flew into the apartment. She shoved past her mother and flung herself at Rhian.

  He caught her and held on.

  Their mother rolled her eyes. “Aren’t you two a match made in heaven?” she said, her contempt obvious.

  “I’m sorry,” Chelsea mumbled into his chest. “She looked up your address in my address book online. I didn’t know she had the password.”

  Rhian ran a hand down her hair. “It’s okay. It was bound to happen eventually.” It struck him, as he held onto his sister and stared at his mother, that this was the first time he could remember hugging a member of his family. Or being hugged by one.

  Chelsea lifted her head. “Can I live with you for the summer? Until I go to school?”

  Rhian blinked. Shit. A hug was one thing. Living with his sister? His mother rolled her eyes again. Suddenly, the answer was easy.

  “Yes.”

  “Over my dead body!” their mother shouted.

  Chelsea threw her backpack to the floor and spun on her mother. “What do you care? I’m eighteen. You can’t stop me.”

  “Oh yes, I can. I can make sure you don’t get access to your tuition
fund. It might be your grandfather’s money, but I am the trustee.”

  Chelsea paled and lunged at her mother. Rhian caught her and shoved her back into Garrick and Savannah’s hold.

  “What will it take?” he demanded.

  His mother eyed him, considering. “Drop the charges.”

  “Done.”

  “And none of you can ever tell my father that you even exist.”

  Rhian nodded. “Fine with me. Going forward, Chelsea can stay with me any time she chooses, for as long as she’d like. No threats to her tuition or I go back to the cops.”

  “Done.”

  “And Buddy stays away. He comes near her, or any of us, and we go straight to Grandpa’s house, right around the corner.”

  His mother looked ready to spit nails. “Fine,” she ground out.

  And just like that, he’d run out of things he wanted to say to his mother.

  No wait. There was one more thing.

  “Now get the fuck out.”

  He slammed the door behind her.

  Garrick paced their apartment like a caged animal. His skin prickled with sweat and anger. His muscles twitched with the need to do something. Things like holding, kissing, loving, cajoling, forcing Rhian to stop ignoring him and Savannah.

  It had been an hour since Rhian’s monster of a mother had been there, and Rhian hadn’t left Chelsea’s side on the couch since. Savannah sat next to him, trying to hold his hand, but he kept pulling free to do something or other with his phone, Chelsea’s phone or the remote. Garrick was ready to pick Rhian up by the scruff of his neck and march him into the bedroom for a little reminder of all the reasons why he shouldn’t be shutting them out.

  But he couldn’t. He didn’t know what Chelsea knew. What she should know. What Rhian wanted anyone to know. And while Garrick was perfectly happy to push the envelope when it was just the three of them, he wouldn’t steal Rhian’s right to decide who knew what, particularly when it came to his sister.

  Garrick did another lap around the kitchen, his fingers yanking at his hair. The clock tick was a constant reminder that at any moment, Rhian was going to announce he had to go. He’d already called the hotel to move them to a two bedroom unit, flatly refusing Garrick and Savannah’s offer that they stay here.