Thick As Thieves: An Enemies-To-Lovers Romance (Paths To Love Book 5)

Home > Other > Thick As Thieves: An Enemies-To-Lovers Romance (Paths To Love Book 5) > Page 24
Thick As Thieves: An Enemies-To-Lovers Romance (Paths To Love Book 5) Page 24

by Grahame Claire


  “I’m not over it, but I’m trying.”

  I threw up my arms. “You shouldn’t ever get over it.” My shout echoed off the building beside us. A woman slid past without doing a double take, like a man screaming was normal.

  “I’m not going to pretend the things you’ve done aren’t despicable. The money and the company—” He scrubbed a hand across his forehead. “If it had just been me you affected, but people lost their jobs. Good people that I had to personally call and tell them they’d been laid off.”

  “I kept them all,” I said defensively.

  “But Dad said—”

  “Because I made him think that.” I paced in a small circle. “I’m an ass. I’m worse than an ass, but I worked with them too. Sandie Reynolds had less than a year to retirement. I couldn’t—wouldn’t—take that from her.”

  Easton stared at me as if I were a stranger. “They’re in Houston?”

  “And there’s still an office building. I didn’t close it after I bought the company even though that was part of the deal. Call the Carter Energy building right now.” I checked my watch. “Mr. Stills is on duty at the security desk, just as he has been for the past forty something years.”

  “This is what I have such a hard time with. That man, the one who wouldn’t just disregard people who helped us become the success we are and the one who barely leaves our mother’s side, he’s the one I know. The one I’m fighting for.”

  I hung my head. He put an arm around my shoulders, pulling me in for a hug. I held him tight, a lump forming in my throat.

  “Don’t forgive me. I don’t deserve it,” I rasped, unable to let him go.

  “You’re right. You don’t deserve forgiveness, because you fucked up. I can’t understand how you could have been so vindictive and hateful, especially toward Mulaney. But you’re my brother. You’ll always be my brother. And I want you in my life. I’m not sure when the hurt will go away, but I will forgive you. Now that I understand more, understand where your mind went, you don’t have a choice. It’s what I want.”

  It was what I wanted too, but I couldn’t say that. Couldn’t say anything because I was afraid he’d change his mind.

  He hugged me hard, then slapped my back.

  “You’re still doing the community service at Paths of Purpose.” His tone was so much lighter than it had been, filling me with hope I didn’t realize I’d been searching for. “Only this time, don’t pick up any of the women there.”

  “What’s the point in going then?” I joked. Volunteering at the shelter was no hardship, considering the alternative.

  “Keep it in your pants, little brother,” he teased, his arm slung around my shoulders as we resumed our walk home. “I don’t think that will be a problem anyway. That devil woman has you by the balls.”

  “The hell she does,” I argued, and he cast me a disbelieving look.

  “Did you know she left?”

  “I told her to go.”

  “You didn’t mean it.”

  “Oh, I meant it. She said we’d keep tearing at each other until nothing was left. It’s better this way.” It didn’t feel better, and I was still furious with her over what she’d done, but I dreaded going back to an empty bed.

  “She left her dog with Mama.”

  “So she’s coming back.” Even as I said the words, I knew they weren’t true.

  “I’m thinking not. She said he belonged with Mama.”

  Not so long ago, I might’ve thought Sonya had done that out of the goodness of her heart. Now, I was pretty sure she didn’t have one.

  “I don’t trust her.”

  “Neither do I.”

  “What do you want me to do to help you get her back?”

  “I’d rather you help me fix the company I bought. It’s fucked.”

  He slowed his steps, and I matched his gait.

  “We can turn it around, but I don’t know if I want to help you.”

  I appreciated the honesty. If I were him, I wouldn’t. It was one thing to try to repair our friendship, but another to fix our business relationship. I’d destroyed our trust.

  “Before I forget, you’re welcome,” I said.

  “For what?”

  “You’re up-to-date with Salter Steel on the money you owed them for the work on the pipeline. I paid them last week.”

  “Money I owed them?”

  I frowned at Easton. “It’s your pipeline.”

  “Why did you do that? Pin it on Mulaney and me?” If he was surprised I knew they’d taken ownership of the pipeline, he didn’t show it. Of course, if it weren’t for Sonya, I wouldn’t have known.

  “In case anything went wrong, the blame would fall on you. I couldn’t have everything point straight to me.”

  “I don’t suppose you could.”

  We nodded to the doorman as we entered our building, both of us leaning against the back of the elevator on the way up. “I didn’t want SPE, and I didn’t want Carter Energy. It was more about taking it away from Dad than actually running it. I can do it; I just don’t want to.”

  Easton studied me for a moment. What he was looking for, I didn’t know. “You’re telling the truth.” He sounded surprised.

  “I like writing software. I’ve made good money doing it too. I was smart enough to license it. I own it. I get paid every month or year depending on how we set it up. That’s what I’d like to keep doing. It hurt that none of you took my ideas seriously.” What the hell? I’d been practicing this truth thing with Sonya. Turned out it made being honest with Easton a little easier.

  “I’ll think about how I can help you,” Easton finally said.

  “Are we good?” I asked when we got to the front door. It was a futile question because we’d never be totally good. We’d never get back what we had. I had stolen that myself. But as I’d always done in life, I wanted my big brother to be on my side, to see me. So, here I was . . . asking.

  He looked at me and sighed. “Better than we’ve been in a long time.”

  Chapter Forty-Three

  Drew

  I stumbled at the sight that greeted me when we returned to the apartment.

  Mama had moved to the couch. She looked exhausted, but she had Gabriel tucked into her side, arm around him, looking at something he was showing her on a tablet. Sam was in his dutiful place on the opposite side. Normally, she would have been back in bed, but that stubborn streak had her trying to make up for lost time with her grandson. When her eyes met mine across the room, they were chilly.

  Carlos watched me like a hawk. The juvenile part of me that liked to push everyone’s buttons was tempted to give him a little five-finger wave, just to be an ass. Old habits died hard, but that wasn’t the way this needed to go. Getting into a fight with him wouldn’t do anything but make a bad situation worse.

  I followed Mulaney into the kitchen. Easton was right behind me, not trusting me with his wife, given she was one of my least favorite people.

  “I owe you an apology.” Her mouth fell open, and I suddenly wished I’d said that a lot sooner. I’d never seen my sister-in-law so off guard. “I’ve been—well, I’ve been a jackass, and it wasn’t your fault. I still don’t like you, and I don’t want us to pretend to get along, just for the sake of getting along. But maybe, given some time and a more open mind, we can get to a civil place.”

  “What are you up to?” she asked when she found her voice.

  Her suspicion was only fair. “Apologizing.” I couldn’t help but be the smartass I was.

  “You don’t know the meaning of the word,” she snapped, folding her arms in a keep out gesture.

  I didn’t expect automatic forgiveness, but she deserved the apology, even if it was difficult to say. “Maybe. Maybe not. But for what it’s worth I am sorry.”

  I left her and Easton in stunned silence. I’d said what I needed to. She could do with it what she wanted.

  * * *

  “Drew.”

  I was almost to my room when Hol
ly’s voice stopped me. She kept enough space between us so she felt comfortable. Her watchdog, Carlos, observed the whole thing from a distance far enough away to give us privacy, but close enough he could step in swiftly.

  “I heard what you told your mother,” she said. “About Gabriel and not wanting to interfere with his life.”

  “I meant it.” My assurance probably didn’t do much to comfort her, but it was true. “He’s a good kid. You’ve done an incredible job, not that you need to hear that from me.”

  “Thank you,” she said quietly.

  “Please don’t keep him from my mother,” I pleaded softly. “It’s not just you and Gabriel I’ve treated poorly.” I swallowed hard, looking away until I could get my composure. “There might not be a lot of time,” I whispered, eyes stinging.

  “Mrs. Carter can spend as much time with Gabriel as she likes.”

  “I appreciate that.” I gave her a tight smile and turned to go. She put her arm on my shoulder.

  “When you signed over all your rights, I thought you did the right thing. It surprised me, though. I’ve asked myself why you did it a thousand times. Now I know.” Her eyes were kind, much like they had been the first time we met. “When you accepted that Gabriel was yours, your instinct was to do the right thing by him.” I blinked at her, uncertain if she was right or not. “I won’t close the door on you having some sort of relationship with him. I don’t mean visitation or anything like that, but I’ll try not to freak out every time the two of you are around one another.”

  I nodded, unsure what to say. In the space of a few hours, one relationship had imploded, one was on the fritz, and three were on the path to renewal. That was a lot to take in. “Whatever you’re comfortable with. I’m-I’m still getting used to the idea that he’s—”

  “Mr. Drew. Mr. Drew.” Gabriel ran down the hall toward us. “Miss Sonya said you would tell me a story about baseball. A really good one. And she said you could teach me how to play.”

  Holly’s hand went to the top of his head as he looked up at me with interested eyes. I was frozen, not knowing what to say. I even looked at Holly for help, but all she gave me was a slight nod.

  I dropped to a squat, getting eye-level with my son. “She did, did she?” I asked with a smile. It was easy and natural. This weird swell of pride that he wanted me to teach him something washed over me. “How about we get it organized with all the boys, and I’ll show you what I know?”

  “Okay. Can we ask now?”

  “I don’t see why not. Let’s start with your dad?” I looked down the hall at the man I was pretty sure I’d never like, but I still had to respect him on some level. He’d stepped into a role I’d pretended wasn’t mine for nearly six years. He loved Gabriel. What more could I want for my son?

  “Daddy, can we have a baseball game?” He’d taken off like a rocket down the hall, so much energy it was infectious. Carlos caught Gabriel, and they high-fived, the giggle bittersweet as it sliced through me. I didn’t want kids, had resigned myself to the fact that it would never happen.

  What was it about this one that made these strange things happen inside me?

  Carlos scruffed his hair, the ease between them as if he’d been there for Gabriel all his life. “We’ll see who’s in, but you know it’s freezing outside, right?”

  “I know, but I want to play.”

  “All right. You’re tougher than I am about that kind of stuff.”

  “That’s why we have jackets and gloves,” Gabriel reasoned and grabbed Carlos’s hand, dragging him toward the living room where everyone else was gathered.

  I stared at the empty space, unsure how I felt, only knowing that now that Gabriel was gone, I was a little hollow.

  “Imagine that magnified a million times. That’s how I felt every time you threatened to take him away from me,” Holly said.

  “I wouldn’t have done it.”

  “Yes, you would have,” she said immediately.

  “I was wrong. I’m sorry I didn’t believe you. That I was such a first-class jerk. That I left you on your own to be responsible for him. I . . . he’s better off that it worked out this way.” The truth was not always easy to swallow.

  “We’ll never know for sure.”

  She walked away, leaving me alone.

  Chapter Forty-Four

  Drew

  “I need to speak with you.”

  I’d barely slept, missing a certain mouthy spitfire who could put everything in perspective, no matter how brutal. I wasn’t prepared to face my father, but I needed to put this shit to bed. I’d been carrying around this resentment too long. There wasn’t much chance of repairing the relationship with my father. I didn’t even know if I wanted that anymore. But I had to get this poison out of me. It had eaten me alive for so many years that it had nearly destroyed me. Yesterday made me realize I had a foundation to build on. It might be small and ugly and crumbling, but it was there.

  “If you’re going to ask me for money or your trust fund, don’t bother,” he said, replacing the coffeepot on the burner. My father didn’t offer me a mug, didn’t really acknowledge me at all, refusing to look at me.

  “I don’t want anything from you other than a few minutes of your time,” I said without inflection.

  My father had on jeans. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d seen him out of slacks and a dress shirt, other than our annual fishing expedition and maybe a casual dinner at their home. He always looked sharp, like he was one step ahead of everyone else. I’d tried to emulate that, believing if I wore a suit, I’d be successful like him. Turned out that had very little to do with it.

  It felt like we were on an even playing field because I was dressed casually too. He hadn’t slept either. The lines around his eyes were deep. My mother’s illness was taking its toll on him. He actually looked old, like he’d taken about all life could throw at him. That bothered me because my father was a fighter. Seeing him defeated was just wrong.

  “Let’s go to the study,” he said, still in command after all. So all the fight hadn’t gone out of him.

  “After you.” I gestured with a broad sweep of my hand, following him down the hall.

  Dad settled against the front of the desk instead of taking a seat in one of the chairs. It was where he felt most in control, and I conceded it to him, sitting before him. We weren’t in a power struggle. That exchange had already occurred, and neither of us came out a winner.

  “What’s this about?” he asked gruffly, finally meeting my eyes. He was still pissed. I’d destroyed his company, the very thing he lived for, and kept a grandson from him.

  The anger I harbored toward him felt thin, but it still burned. I wasn’t going to let it consume me any longer. I needed to get it out.

  “You’ve had a favorite son for as long as I can remember, and it wasn’t me.” I paused, letting that sink in. His eyes flared as if that was the last thing he expected me to say. “I don’t blame you. Easton’s smart, driven, a decent person—everything you’d want in a son.” I shrugged as if indifferent, though I was struggling to find the words to say what I wanted to express. “It’s not that I ever doubted you loved me. It’s just. . . you loved Easton and Mulaney more.”

  I sagged in my chair, surprised by what had come out of my mouth. I did believe my dad loved me, just not as much as he did Easton and Mulaney. For a long time, I’d refused to acknowledge that.

  He didn’t respond, so I kept going. “One thing that you taught by example is that when you find your passion, you put everything into it. I know it’s dead and buried, that I should be over it after all this time, but baseball was that passion for me. When that ended, you acted like it had been a hobby. Some nothing, a little boy’s game you expected me to grow out of.”

  “I went to every game you ever played,” he protested, turning red. “All the way from Little League. I never missed one. Not. One.”

  “I know,” I conceded, slumping farther into the chair.

  “So I
thought it was ridiculous, huh? So much so that I supported you your entire career.” His jaw worked. “Who do you think taught you to play? Who bought you your first bat and ball? You swung a piece of wood before you took your first step. Took it right out of my hands, and I was thrilled because I’d be able to play ball with my boys.” He got louder with every sentence.

  My mother had said I was born to play, but I’d never heard what my father was telling me. “When I played the game, it was the one time I thought you might be more proud of me than you were of Easton. I know it wasn’t a competition, but I was better.” This was so difficult to get out. “That was why I worked so hard to be the best. I wanted you to be proud of me.” I looked at him, feeling like a child. What I saw in his eyes caused my chest to tighten.

  “I would have been proud of you, even if you’d been the worst.”

  What? Those were the words I’d wanted to hear all my life. They felt good as they wound around what was left of my soul. They were astounding and . . . healing.

  I took a second to gather myself before I spoke again. “When I was injured, it killed me. I loved the game, and I lost it. I loved Erin, and I lost her. When there were no more games for you to come to, I-I lost you. The thing we had in common was gone. But you were happy because then I could work for Carter Energy,” I accused, the bitterness I’d been fighting rising to the surface.

  He leaned forward, gripping my shoulders. His eyes misted over. “When you were lying on that dirt, I died,” he choked out. “You have no idea what it’s like to see your son unmoving, then waiting at the hospital during surgery. When the doctors said you’d never play again, I was devastated. Not for me, but for you.”

  He looked toward the unlit fireplace, collecting his thoughts. “I didn’t know how to handle it.” His face contorted in shame at the admission. “I thought if I focused on the negative, it would be worse on you, so I steered you toward Carter Energy in hopes it would give you something else to dwell on. Of course, I wanted you and Easton working with me. What father wouldn’t want his sons beside him, building a company?” He took a breath. “But the only reason I drove you toward the business was to take your mind off what you’d lost. I see now that may have been the wrong thing to do.” His eyes pleaded with me to believe him.

 

‹ Prev