End Game

by Samantha Wayland

  Totally unacceptable.

  A knock on the door brought Garrick back to the hallway, bearing down on the damn thing before anyone could rise off the couch.

  He flung the door open, hoping it was Rhian’s mother again. He was seriously considering breaking every rule he’d ever been taught and punching the damn woman in the face.

  It wasn’t Diane. It was Chance, Kieran and Lachlan—the three fucking musketeers—none of whom Garrick had any desire to see.

  Chance frowned at him. “Patrick called when Rhian dropped the charges. We wanted to check to see if everything is okay.”

  It wasn’t. Not by a long shot. And why the hell couldn’t they have called?

  He left the door open and returned to his pacing. They could let themselves in.

  As soon as her brothers filed into the living room, Savannah dropped Rhian’s hand, stood up, and offered to make everyone coffee.

  Lachlan stared at her, long and hard, and she turned pinker with every passing second. What the hell was up with that?

  Garrick forgot all about Lachlan, though, when he saw the look on Rhian’s face.

  Oh shit. Here we go again.

  Rhian also stood, his posture wooden, and introduced his sister.

  Once they’d all shaken hands, he smiled grimly. “We were just leaving.”

  “No,” Garrick barked, bringing all eyes to him. Smooth, LeBlanc. “I mean, Rhian, can I have a word with you in the office?”

  Rhian hesitated and Garrick narrowed his gaze. He’d fucking wrestle him into that goddamn room if he had to.

  He must have been projecting his intentions loud and clear, because Rhian scowled and stomped off down the hall. Garrick followed, scrambling for what he would say. He knew, without a doubt, that Rhian shouldn’t leave. Not yet. Not after his mother’s visit. And not after the heartbroken acceptance all over his face as he’d stared up at Savannah a moment ago.

  They had shit they needed to work out, goddamn it.

  Savannah followed them into the tiny bedroom they’d set up as a work space but rarely used. Garrick had to shove the old door to get it to close, but this conversation needed to happen out of earshot of the rest of the household, and the overly cheerful conversation from the living room wouldn’t be enough to mask it.

  “I’m leaving,” Rhian stated before Garrick could say a word. It didn’t sound like he meant for the day. Or a week.

  Savannah reached for him. “No, please.”

  Rhian stepped back and her arms fell to her side.

  Garrick’s heart plummeted. “Please, Rhian. Don’t leave. You and Chelsea can stay here. With us.”

  Rhian shook his head. “You two go to Connecticut. I’ll be fine.”

  Savannah stepped closer. “You can come with us. Bring Chelsea.”

  “And what? Pretend to be your pal while you introduce Garrick to your parents?” Garrick had never heard Rhian use such a cutting tone before.

  Worse, Garrick had never seen Savannah so uncertain and confused. His panic ratcheted higher. He had to stop Rhian. They needed him. So damn much. And he needed them, too, damn it.

  Though, more than anything, Rhian needed Savannah. He needed her humor, the way she brought out his confidence. He connected with her. Her family. Better than anyone Garrick had ever seen him with.

  Suddenly, Garrick was about to do the one thing he swore he’d never do. If it fucking killed him, he was going to be the man Rhian deserved.

  “Wait,” Garrick said when Rhian turned toward the door. “You go. I’ll stay here.”

  “What?” Savannah cried.

  “You’re better for him,” he said, his voice thick. “You both have that thing. The strength I love so much in both of you. He needs that from you. I want…” He swallowed past the lump choking off his increasingly unsteady voice, “I want you both to be happy. That’s the most important thing. Take Rhian to Connecticut. Tell your parents—”

  “No!” Rhian grabbed Garrick’s arm and shook him. “Damn you. No! You don’t get to decide for me.” He turned to Savannah. “You don’t want to make a family with me. Even if you felt about me the way you do about Garrick, it can’t work.”

  “But Rhian, I—”

  He grabbed his hair in two fists. “No! You know I’m right. You two can be happy. Whole. I’d never forgive myself for ruining that. What could I possible know about building a happy family? Look at my mother. She’s a monster.”

  He wrenched open the door and stormed out into the hallway. “Chelsea!”

  Garrick furiously wiped the tears from his face before charging out after Rhian, Savannah on his heels.

  Chelsea met them in the hallway. They must have looked a fucking mess, but she kindly kept her mouth shut.

  Rhian urged Chelsea toward the door. “We have to go. I don’t want to be moving into the new place in the middle of the night,” he said. He didn’t say a word to the men standing agape in the living room, just charged into the front hall and yanked the door open. “I’ll be in touch,” he said without so much as a glance in their direction.

  The note of finality damn near stole Garrick’s breath.

  He considered tackling Rhian to the hallway floor, but with Chelsea next to him, Garrick couldn’t do it. It wouldn’t make a difference anyway. All he’d make was a scene and possibly add to the panic he could see crawling over Rhian’s face.

  “Rhian, please,” he begged, without a care for his audience.

  Rhian’s answer was to shut the door in his face.

  Chapter Thirty Eight

  Savannah and Garrick arrived in Connecticut early in the morning on Friday, hollow-eyed and quiet. Her parents greeted them on the porch and Savannah clung to her mother, barely choking out that Rhian hadn’t been able to make it without bursting into tears.

  Garrick tried to rally and be his usual charming self for her parent’s benefit. She was grateful for his efforts, but knew it was killing him. She couldn’t have managed it if their positions had been reversed. As it was, she was trying as hard as she could to keep her expression neutral, and still she caught her mother and father looking at her with concern all the time.

  Her mother asked what was wrong, but Savannah brushed her off, saying they were both working too hard and super tired. Then the damn woman started asking about Rhian and Savannah had very nearly burst into tears again. She pretended a burning need for the bathroom to escape before the first sobs did.

  By noon, she was a zombie. She held onto Garrick—his hand, a hug, anything—but it was a small comfort, his grief like hers, rolling off him in waves.

  At some point they were going to have to discuss what they would do next, but she wasn’t ready. She was too hurt. Too sad.

  The crunch of tires in the driveway through the open front window interrupted their lunch and her heart leaped in her chest. For one hideously foolish moment, she hoped it would be Rhian.

  She tried not to be disappointed to see Lachlan.

  He barely paused long enough to kiss their mother and shake their father’s hand before he grabbed her by the arm and dragged her into their father’s office, slamming the door behind them.

  “What the fuck is the matter with you?”

  Savannah stared out the window, her back to Lachlan, and tried to remember the last time she’d heard him swear. “What do you want, Lach?”

  “You were holding Rhian’s hand!”

  Savannah didn’t bother to check her tears. Could her brother have chosen a worse time to jump on her about being too friendly with Rhian?

  “Leave me alone,” she said quietly.

  “How could you do that? How could you do that to him?” Lachlan demanded.

  Her breath hitched when she tried to gather enough air to speak. “Garrick isn’t upset, Lachlan. We have no secrets. Just leave it alone. Please.”

  “Not Garrick,” Lachlan roared. “Rhian!”

  Savannah turned. “What?”

  Lachlan blinked when he saw her, no doubt struck by ho
w horrific she looked after crying. Again. His shoulders slumped and he dug at his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. “God, I don’t think I’ve ever been this mad at you. You broke his fucking heart.”

  Savannah blinked. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  Lachlan pinned her with another glare. “Why won’t you acknowledge him? Why do you push him away when we’re around?”

  “I-I-I don’t understand. You know?”

  Lachlan slammed his hands on his hips and looked at the ceiling for a moment, as if someone upstairs might grant him patience. “Of course I know, you idiot. So does Chance. And Kieran. How the fuck could we not notice how he stares at you like the sun and moon rise and set on your ass? And you’re no better. Neither is Garrick, the poor bastard.” Lachlan’s laugh conveyed his pity. “He looks like he wants to fall to his knees and thank god every time he sees either one of you.”

  For the first time in twenty-four hours, Savannah smiled. Garrick did tend to fall to his knees around them.

  But Rhian was gone. Her smile was lost. “You’re not wrong, Lach. But I’m not sure what difference it makes. And what the fuck do you want me to do? Tell mom I’m in love with two men?”

  “Yes. For starters.”

  Savannah tried to begin at least three responses, but no sounds would come out.

  “Oh, get over yourself,” Lachlan snapped.

  Savannah stared in shock at her brother. Man, he was a bitch when he was riled.

  “She’d never turn her back on you.” Lachlan bobbed his head side-to-side, as if conceding a point. “You might have to give her some time. And Dad. But they’ll get there. You know they will. Hell, two more boys, and both hockey players? They’ll be delighted once the shock wears off.”

  Savannah laughed. God, he was right. “Mom!”

  Lachlan smiled. He waited for their mother to open the door before he kissed Savannah’s cheek and left, closing it behind him.

  “Everything all right, dear? I thought I heard Lachlan shouting.”

  “You did.”

  “Really?” her mother asked. “What on earth for?”

  Savannah tried to smile, but nerves and the persistent ache of grief made it hard. “I screwed up. Big time.”

  Her mom took her hand. “What is it, honey?”

  Immediately supportive. That was her mom. “I have something to tell you that you might have a hard time understanding.”

  Her mom nodded, not saying anything. Just waiting for it.

  God, she should have asked Kieran how the hell he’d outed himself. Then she pictured her brother and his complete inability to hide anything, and knew the answer—he’d told the truth.

  So she did, too. “I’m in love with Rhian. And Garrick. And they love each other.”

  Her mother’s benign, encouraging smile didn’t slip an inch. “What?”

  “We’re together. The three of us. In one relationship. And it’s wonderful, Mom. Really amazing. But Rhian left. In part because I couldn’t figure out how to tell you about it. About him. I was scared and a coward and now I don’t know how we’ll get him back.” The tears started again.

  For the first time in her life, her mother didn’t try to wipe them away.

  She slowly lowered herself into one of the big chairs. The same one Savannah and Rhian had cuddled in all those weeks ago. The chair she’d been in when she’d fallen in love. Again.

  “Oh.” The sound of her mother’s voice, calm but confused, did nothing to settle Savannah’s rioting anxiety.

  “Mom?”

  Her mother stared at her hands, clenched in her lap. She didn’t answer.

  Savannah died a little.

  “I guess we better go check into the inn,” she said, trying not to believe the worse and failing miserably. “We’ll be there when you’re ready to talk or want us to come back.”

  She could barely get her legs to work, staggered by grief.

  Her hand was on the knob when her mother called out. “Wait!”

  Rhian sat on the uncomfortable couch in his new, equally ugly apartment, in the same hotel he’d come to loathe sometime over the past few weeks. That he’d lived like this for months, years even, made him feel a little sick. Like he’d wasted so much valuable time in his effort to be as unattached as humanly possible.

  Chelsea’s presence made it a hundred times worse. For her, it was an adventure, though she was used to far grander surroundings. To him, it was a horrible reminder of what his life hadn’t been.

  He shook out the Boston Globe he’d bought that morning on his lonely run and spread it out across the table. He was on the hunt for a decent place to live for the summer, then he’d figure out what came next.

  He found some options. A few sublets, at least, though the idea of living with someone else’s stuff freaked him out.

  Funny how that had never bothered him at Garrick and Savannah’s place.

  Shaking his head, he shoved the paper aside. “Come on, let’s go get your stuff.”

  Chelsea appeared in her bedroom doorway. “What if they’re home?”

  “We’ll get some coffee and try again in an hour.”

  She shrugged. “Okay, let’s do it.”

  The townhouse, perched near the very top of Beacon Hill, was deserted when they arrived. Rhian stood on the street and stared at the huge house he’d walked past more than once. It was the same age and design as Garrick and Savannah’s building, but where theirs had been cut into six apartments, this place was a single four-story residence. It reeked of money.

  Chelsea finally lost patience and shook him out of his stupor. “Come on. It’s just a house.”

  He laughed at himself and the countless Little Orphan Annie fantasies he and all the rest of the foster kids had hoped could come true. This place wasn’t anyone’s salvation. He took a moment to thank god his mother hadn’t raised him.

  Once they went inside, they didn’t linger, running straight to Chelsea’s room and stuffing her clothes and other belongings into any bag they could find. She had some luggage, which was quickly filled and stacked in the front hall. They’d just finished bundling together shopping bags full of the last of her things when the front door slammed shut.

  “Oh, shit,” Chelsea muttered.

  Footsteps thundered up the stairs, then Buddy came barreling through the bedroom door, charging straight toward his sister. Rhian had to hand it to him. The idiot was fucking consistent.

  The difference this time was that Rhian was ready for him. He dropped his bags and slammed into Buddy with all his weight and strength. The entire house shuddered when they hit the wall.

  Buddy’s head cracked against the plaster and Rhian jumped away before Buddy could recover—which he did with remarkable speed.

  Maybe it was genetic.

  Didn’t matter. Rhian dodged a punch and swung hard, connecting with Buddy’s face. Buddy came right back at him. Rhian ducked again. He could do this all day. Hockey had trained him well.

  “Stop!”

  The shrill demand came from the door as his mother rushed past him to check Buddy’s injuries.

  No, not his mother. Diane.

  The damn woman cooed over Buddy’s bloody nose.

  Rhian caught himself before he rolled his eyes. Shit, she did that all the time. He hoped to hell that wasn’t genetic, too.

  Chelsea gathered up her bags. “We’re just getting my stuff. We were about to leave.”

  Diane turned on her, the familiar mask of rage falling into place in a blink of the eye. “You’re not going anywhere, young lady!”

  Rhian sighed. He’d feared this exact thing would happen. He’d already dropped the charges, after all. They should have come get her stuff first. Damn.

  The crestfallen look on Chelsea’s face made Rhian furious. Rhian got right in Diane’s face. “Shove it, Mom. We made a deal and you’re going to stick to it.”

  “I’m not your mother,” she hissed venomously. “I left you behind. I never even looked for yo
u. Did you know that? Never a regret. I was pregnant with Buddy and I knew from the moment he was conceived that he was special. He understands what family means. You never will.”

  Rhian laughed. Not the maniacal laugh so often employed in the presence of fucking crazy people, but a genuine chortle of delight. “I’ve got a family.”

  And he hoped to hell they would forgive him.

  Because holy shit, it was true. He understood what family was better than this crazy bitch. Leaving him was the best thing she’d ever done for him, and giving him Chelsea was a damn close second.

  He looked at his sister and they shared a smile of perfect understanding.

  Diane sneered at her daughter. “You’re an ungrateful bitch! You think I’m going to pay for your fancy school now?”

  Chelsea crossed her arms and stared her mother down.

  Rhian smiled at Chelsea, then at the monster who had given birth to them. “Keep your money, bitch. I’ll pay.”

  He was fucking delighted to finally have something to do with the money he’d saved over the past couple years. He wasn’t a complete rube—he knew Wellesley College would be expensive. But he’d make it work. Take out loans if he had to.

  The grin of pure, unadulterated love and gratitude Chelsea sent him made him feel ten feet tall.

  They grabbed everything they’d packed and ran like hell out of that awful house, leaving the rest of their putrid gene pool behind.

  Chapter Thirty Nine

  Their escape would have gone more smoothly if they’d had the foresight to order a taxi. Instead they stood like a couple dorks on the corner, waiting for their ride, piles of crap all around them.

  Chelsea was still smiling. “Thanks for offering to put me through school.”

  “You’re welcome. It wasn’t an empty promise. We’ll make it work.”

  She threw her arms around him and gave him a loud, smacking kiss on his cheek. “You’re the best brother in the world.”

  He imagined he was a fascinating shade of red now. “Uh, thanks.”

  “And very generous.”