by Lyz Kelley
Having spent years watching her brothers perform in the boardroom, she recognized certain traits and understood their meaning. Guilt surged through her. She needed to tell them.
“You didn’t push too hard. And my work at the office is not the reason I’ve decided to change direction.”
Weston uncrossed his legs, his eyes staring at her stomach where her hand had instinctively gone.
“Are you?” he asked.
An excited gurgle rippled under her skin, triggered by the anticipation of this very moment. The moment she’d been waiting for. She shrugged her shoulders and felt the corners of her mouth lift, unable to contain her enthusiasm. “Yes.”
Liam set his water down. “Wait a minute. What did I miss?”
“Our little sister is pregnant.”
“I thought you were going to wait.” Liam looked confused and hurt.
Weston grabbed her hand, the joy in his face exposed. “When’s the wedding?”
Her brother’s question killed the feather-light, nostalgic feelings fluttering around in her head. She picked up her fork to play with the last bit of her cheesecake. “There won’t be one. And before you two get any ideas, he asked, and I turned him down.”
Liam’s frown made her nervous. “Wait a minute. If I’m reading the road signs correctly, you’re pregnant, and the doctor’s responsible.”
Weston smirked. “He catches on quickly.”
“Liam, relax. Garrett doesn’t want family responsibilities. He’s married to the hospital.”
Liam placed his elbows on the table. “He doesn’t mean it. Guys say a lot of stupid things to women. Ask us. We’re experts.”
“Speak for yourself, Bro,” Weston said.
Liam rolled his eyes. “Just because the doctor said it doesn’t mean he means it.”
She pressed fingers to her temple. “My point exactly. Men make no sense. I’ve got you two. I don’t need another one in my life.”
“Maybe you should talk to him,” Liam said, pushing his point.
Hurt, sorrow, resentment, and other jumbled feelings made her foot tap on the floor. She didn’t want to talk about Garrett. She didn’t even want to think about him. Her baby would be the priority, nothing else. She wouldn’t let stress interfere in her life, or impact her child’s health.
“This was supposed to be a casual business lunch, not a relationship counseling session.” She crossed her arms loosely on the table. “Besides, you two aren’t the most qualified in that area anyway. I want to know what you think about my business plan.”
Weston opened the proposal to the financial section. “Now that we have all the facts, I see no reason not to proceed. I would, however, recommend a few changes, and revisiting the timeline. With the baby coming, the plan seems aggressive.”
“Why do you always have to pick?” Liam’s searing glance at Weston gave her the impression he wanted to take a swing at their oldest sibling. She needed to distract him.
“I’ll work on inventory or find a few artists to represent until the baby’s older. The gallery is in a perfect location, with lots of foot traffic. Maybe I’ll even use it as a studio until I’m ready. When I’m at home, I can still work on some smaller marketing projects if you want.” She considered her sibling. “Liam, do you have any concerns?”
“I’m good.”
“You sure this is what you want, McKenzie?” Weston pushed.
“Yeah. I’m sure. No offense, but I don’t want you to continue creating projects to keep me busy.”
Liam flipped the end of his tie. “That’s not—”
“Stop. I know what you two have been doing for a long time, and I appreciate it. The hospital, the marketing campaigns, the sales kickoff meetings—I know you did it because you love me and because you trust me. Maybe you were right all along. I needed time to decide. And I have decided. Painting and helping others get their art careers off the ground is what I want to do. I want to put the past behind me and start fresh. I want a simpler life.”
“What about the Trust?” Liam asked. “Will you resign as president?”
“No. I doubt Dad or Mom will let anyone but family manage the Trust, and you two have plenty to do.”
Liam winked, and then jotted a few notes on her proposal before stuffing the binder in his briefcase. “Then I’ll draw up the loan papers, and we’ll work with your real estate guy to see if we can’t get a better price.”
That small gesture lit a set of imaginary sparklers in her hand. If she could have, she would’ve twirled around the restaurant, arms wide, head thrown back, smiling like a little girl at a birthday party. She’d found her first love again, her love of painting. Her head for business and her talent to create had pushed her up the corporate ladder, but like singing, painting sat at the core of her soul. A mirror of her spirit. The path to happiness. A way to freedom.
“You’d better tell the parents quickly about the pregnancy. I swear mom can read minds,” Liam recommended. “She guessed your engagement was fake weeks ago, but let the lie slide after I told her the reason.”
“Yeah, I figured she knew once she didn’t go into full-blow wedding planning mode. How about at the dinner Sunday night? I might need some reinforcements.”
Both her siblings pulled out their electronic organizers and began thumbing through their devices. Their dual habit gave her a tiny piece of happy.
She liked not having a little piece of metal permanently attached to her hand, reminding her what to do every minute of every day. A sense of pure joy surged through her. The burden lifted. She’d found the road to honestly expressing who and what she was, and a safe environment to grow a family.
Like her siblings, she could build something to be proud of, maybe not as huge as an international conglomerate, but something of her own. She wrapped her arms around her waist and hugged her child. No matter what happened, things were going to be okay. Now she must figure out how Garrett fit in the picture.
Then again, maybe he didn’t.
Chapter 25
McKenzie reread Garrett’s cryptic note for the hundredth time before returning it to her coffee table. The now crumpled piece of yellow notepaper had been memorized, dissected, and puzzled over for three days. The part about fighting monsters confused her, but she’d gathered enough information to know he’d left to take care of a family matter. She hoped nothing serious had happened. Gathering the troops to sort family matters, she understood. She’d seen it enough with her family to know that every person counted. She only wished he’d been more specific before he up and disappeared.
A familiar bump against her shin eased her worries. “You miss him too, don’t you?” Bending down, she lifted the fourteen-pound orange cat into her lap. “There will be changes around here soon, and you’ll have to learn to share.” George closed his eyes and lifted his chin for her to scratch. She laughed at the display of pure delight. What a life.
George launched from her arms and landed on the floor with a thump seconds before the front door lock clicked, causing her heart to stutter. She held her breath, listening.
“Mac, it’s me.” Garrett’s voice resonated through the hallway and sounded testy.
She settled back into the couch and placed a pillow onto her lap. “I’m in the living room.”
Placing a hand over her stomach, she worked to quell the queasy morning sickness feeling. She breathed in and out, taking slow, calming breaths, and then glanced at her oversized track pants and Liam’s college sweatshirt she’d stolen from him a few years ago. No makeup. Messed-up hair. Perfect timing, Doctor, as usual.
Having a male come and go, especially her handsome doctor whom she wanted to impress, would take getting used to.
He dropped his set of keys on the counter and walked to the edge of the sofa. His dark mood and unshaven face gave him a sexy, bad-boy look. She liked the look, just not the angst that came with it. He tossed his backpack on the floor. His body hummed with the intensity of a rubber band, stretched and ready to l
aunch.
“Are you okay? You want to tell me what happened, or would you like some tea, maybe a beer first?”
“What?” His brows pulled together, his eyes blinked. “Oh, um, a beer would be great. I’ll get it. No need to get up.”
Returning with a long-necked bottle from the refrigerator, he deposited himself at the other end of the couch. His whole body bellowed, Back. Off. Left with no choice, she slid her tea cup on the coffee table and prepared for whatever he had to say.
“Garrett, I can’t help if you don’t tell me what’s wrong. Are your sisters okay?”
“They’re fine, why?”
“Your note said you had a family emergency. I assumed it involved one of your sisters.”
“I need to show you something.” He retrieved his canvas bag, unzipped the flap then shoved a tattered file in her direction. “Here.”
“What’s this?”
“It’s something I put together several years ago to remind me.”
She opened the file. Snapshots of a man’s beaten face, a newspaper clipping about a young woman who’d been abused, and obituary notices for two infants framed a horrifying event. She scanned the collage of information. Each dated article filled in the minor gaps and confirmed what Weston had discovered in the background check she’d already read.
He had a hot temper when growing up, but he cleaned up nicely.
Her mind fought to grasp what he wanted her to see, but she kept adding two and two and coming up with five. She lowered the file to her lap. “Garrett, why are you showing me this?”
He pointed at the picture on the right. “My nephew had just turned three. My sister was seven months pregnant when my brother-in-law lost his job. Kids are smart. Really smart. My nephew must have felt the tension in the home because he threw wild crying tantrums almost daily. That night. The night of my arrest, my brother-in-law shook my nephew so hard he broke his neck, and then beat and pushed my sister down the stairs, killing her unborn child and nearly killing her. I lost it. I tracked the bastard down with every intention of taking him to the authorities, but when he pulled a knife on me and took a swing, I let loose. I couldn’t control myself. I almost killed him. They had to pull me off the sick bastard.”
She reached for his hand, but he stood and paced back and forth across the carpet, his shoulders hunched forward, his eyes darkened with concern.
“I turned myself in,” he continued. “My dad went to school with a couple of the local cops. They put in a good word, especially since a couple of witnesses saw the jerk take a swipe at me. The police should have thrown me in jail, but gave me a pat on the back instead.” He looked straight at her for the first time since he walked in.
“Sounds to me like it was self-defense.”
“It wasn’t self-defense. That scrawny-ass worm was half my size.” He rubbed the palm of his hand with his thumb as if trying to remove blood that no longer existed. “When I was fifteen, I promised my dad I wouldn’t fight anymore or hang out with gang members. I didn’t keep my promise.”
He wanted her to believe him guilty, guilty of revenge for what happened to his sister—but why? It didn’t make any sense. She closed the file and set it on the table.
“Garrett, all this was in the criminal background check the hospital board conducted. The court ruled the incident self-defense. Surely your dad doesn’t blame you for protecting your family.”
“He blames me for not walking away.” Garrett again pointed to the file. “You need to know the kind of man I am.”
“Defending yourself does not make you a bad man. Is this why you became a pediatric doctor? You believe you have to atone for your sins and protect the children?”
“Yes. No. I mean there’s more.” His voice tightened and each whispered word made him seem small.
“Garrett, if you are worried about the hospital, there’s nothing else in your file to create any alarms. You don’t have anything to worry about.”
“This wouldn’t be in my file.”
Her gut tightened. Not in the file? Days ago. “What are you saying?”
The tension in the air crackled and burned with imprisoned emotion.
“You’re scaring me. Please sit and tell me what’s going on.”
He paced back and forth. Back and forth. Back and forth. The silence grew strained. After several agonizing moments, he sat on the edge of the sofa and stared at the corner of the room where there was no light. Only deep darkness.
“You think no one knows what you’ve been through. But I know. The helplessness. The ugliness. The shame.” He drew a long breath. “My uncle. My mother’s brother used to invite me over on Sundays to watch football games. But we didn’t watch the games. He told me I wasn’t man enough yet. He said, with all those sissies at my house, he needed to teach me how to be a man.”
The words steamrolling out of Garrett came to a slow and torturous stop.
Bile from past memories sent acid into the back of her throat. She moved closer, but instinct told her not to crowd him. “Did he beat you?”
A single tear hovered at the corner of Garrett’s eye, and then let go and rolled down his cheek. “No.” He brushed the tear away with the back of his hand. “I wish he had. My uncle liked young boys. Only boys. The younger, the better. He told me he would rape my sisters if I ever told anyone. In high school, I figured out his sexual tendencies didn’t extend to women. I took years, years working with authorities to put that pervert in a place where he could never touch another kid again. Because I was still a minor, the records were sealed.”
“That’s why you’re so protective of the children. Isn’t it?”
His gaze met hers. “Yes. Years of therapy helped me understand I couldn’t have stopped what happened to me or my nephews. That knowledge somehow isn’t enough. I’ve dedicated my life to saving and protecting kids.” His fisted hands remained anchored to his knees. “You need to know what I’m capable of…what kind of man I am.”
“Garrett, I see what kind of man you are. You wouldn’t be in my home if I didn’t.”
He shook his head rejecting her statement. “What you see is the professional wrapping—the lab coat, the stethoscope. You make assumptions based on what you want to see, not what’s actually there.”
“Garrett, you’re wrong. I do see you.” She slid forward so she could be within reach. If he wouldn’t allow her touch or sympathy, maybe she could offer him warmth with her words and nearness.
“The streets I grew up in were violent and twisted. I never want that type of trash to touch you, or anyone I love. I’m afraid my past might reappear.”
“Reappear?” Her head tipped to the right while her mind tried figuring out what he was saying. “What do you mean by that?”
“The California detention system is overcrowded. I received notice my uncle was released three months ago. I didn’t think much about it, until he contacted me. He needed money. Of course, I refused. Then he threatened to hurt my family, but my sisters made me promise not to help him. Out of desperation he took the pictures he’d taken of me and sold them to pedophile sites. Last week, California authorities arrested him on a parole violation. They needed my statement. I wasn’t going to go back. I didn’t have to. But like you, I want to move on. I want to know he would go away this time for good.”
“Is that why you moved to New York? And why you went home?”
“I wanted to make sure my sisters had the protection they need. What he did to me will never, ever go away. The pictures are all over the internet. My sister needed to know the full extent of what he did so she could protect Tyler. He looks like me, and people make assumptions. The wrong assumptions. ”
The sadness in his eyes created a ball of empathy in her throat.
“I’ve learned to live with my past. But my sisters shouldn’t have to. You shouldn’t have to.”
The past held him hostage, kept him chained to events that had changed him. Marred him. She understood the inability to move on. The bru
tal force that once held her back was a reminder of what could happen. But he wasn’t that same person. He couldn’t see that the boy and the man were the same but very, very, very different.
“Let me ask you something.” She placed a hand on his knee to get his attention. “Would you ever hurt me?”
“Never,” he said, his voice thick with emotion.
“Would you protect our child?”
“How can you ask such a thing?”
Yes. There’s the truth. “The man you are today isn’t the man portrayed in that folder. Can’t you see the difference?”
His dark, stormy eyes studied her. She understood what it was like to be a victim. She didn’t want him to live with the regrets anymore, and she didn’t want this beautiful, caring man to carry such a heavy burden alone. She wanted to provide a soft place to land—a launching pad to reach for the future and not be torn apart by the past.
“You told me once you thought I was strong.” She waited until his attention focused. “I’m willing to show you how strong I can be. It’s possible your past might catch up with you. If it does, we’ll deal with it. Together. Liam’s a damn good lawyer. He’ll know how to fight this. And you, I know you’re strong enough to get past this.”
The words I don’t believe you could have been tattooed across the bridge of his nose.
“Look at me.” She waited until she had his full attention. “You’re a good man, an outstanding doctor, and I love you. This file describes the boy you were, and only matters because it’s part of what made you the man you are today. What’s not in the file also matters. But I know better than most that a few newspaper clippings don’t tell the whole story. There’s always more. I’ve spent years being driven by a ghost, and it’s a frightening and lonely journey. Trust me, you owe it to yourself, to us, to put the past behind you.” She picked up the battered file. “We both have so much to live for without being encumbered with pain and fear and regret.”
“How did you get so smart?” He lifted her hand to his lips.
“I surround myself with wonderful, inspiring people.”