I’m not sure how much time has passed when Rowan steps out.
He comes to a screeching halt when he sees me still outside the door, which he quietly pulls closed.
“You need to leave, Alec.” His eyes are dark and full of hate, maybe even fear, but his words are strong.
“I can’t do that.”
“Why the fuck not? It was easy for you to walk away two years ago.”
“She wasn’t mine then.”
“She isn’t yours now,” he growls.
I take a deep breath, turning to face him full-on. “She is mine, Rowan. She’s been mine … since before she knew she was. Don’t stand there and pretend like you didn’t see this coming.” When his face falls, I continue, “It’s the exact reason you started coming on strong when I got back. You’ve known for years that she’s what I wanted, so you’ve kept her at arm’s length, making sure she didn’t see me. You were afraid if she knew I wanted her, that maybe she’d want me, too. And where would that leave you, little brother? If you loved her, you’d have realized long ago that she was worth risking everything for.” I hit my chest. “I’ve known it. I waited—”
He laughs, shouldering past me, and I follow him a few steps but don’t leave the hall.
“You didn’t wait for shit, Alec. You’re fucking married. Whatever you think you had or planned to try for with Oakley is over.”
“You don’t know shit about what’s happening here, so don’t play like you do.”
“So, tell me!” he shouts, spinning to face me again. “Tell me what’s going on. Tell me where you were and what you did while you were gone. Tell me why you and Mom always had private conversations that shushed the second I walked in the room. Tell me why, when you came back after two fucking years of no word from you … all you cared about doing was pulling the one person who had given me all she had right out from under me?”
My brows pull in as I scan Rowan’s face.
Son of a bitch.
This goes so much deeper than my girl lying in his bed.
“Things are tough right now—”
“You came back out of fucking nowhere and have been screwing with what I was trying to build with her! You’re supposed to be my brother!”
“I am your brother!”
When he starts laughing, placing his hands on his hips as he turns away with his head shaking, my spine straightens.
Oh fuck.
He locks his eyes on mine and sees that it’s clicked.
I hang my head, and he scoffs.
“I should have known. We couldn’t be more different. Shit, we don’t even look alike.”
“How’d you find out?”
“Needed my original birth certificate for the first time when the academy started. Seems the Daniels name passed me right up.”
“Rowan—”
“She had an affair and got pregnant after ‘Dad’ already got snipped. He didn’t let her give me his name. Guess I know now why he didn’t like coming home much, huh? Couldn’t stand to look at me.”
“He’s a piece of shit.”
He ignores me. “It’s no wonder it was so easy for you to take off. You weren’t leaving much behind, right?”
“Just because we don’t share the same sperm donors doesn’t mean—”
“You’re not my brother!” His eyes harden. “A brother wouldn’t step in where he wasn’t wanted.”
“That’s not what’s happening here.” I take a step closer to him, trying to keep my voice low. “Things aren’t easy to explain right now, Rowan, but—”
He scoffs, “Talk to me, Alec.” Again, his voice is strong, but his eyes beg as they bounce between mine. “Shit, tell me anything.”
When I glance away for a moment before meeting his stare again, his shoulders drop an inch.
He licks his lips. “If she came out here right now and demanded answers, would you give them to her?”
That’s easy because I know she wouldn’t ask. “Yes.”
He nods, looking off. “That’s what I thought. Get the fuck out of my house.” He meets my stare. “Or I’ll call the police and have you arrested for harassment.”
“I’m not leaving her here.”
“What are you afraid of, big brother?” he taunts. “Think things might get a little out of hand?”
“She’s emotional right now. I won’t let her feed off that and do something she doesn’t really want.”
“You mean me, right? She doesn’t want me?” Rowan leans against the back of the couch. “A few weeks don’t erase twelve years of feelings, Alec. Things can still change.”
“They won’t.”
His smirk is slow. “If you were sure, you wouldn’t be here. If you were confident in what you thought you had or wanted with her, you’d give her the time she needed.”
Brave little bastard is about to get his ass kicked.
He’s hurt, and I get it, but there’s more going on here. We’ll have to push past this another time.
He pulls out his phone to taunt me with his fake threat, so I do him one better. I whip out my phone and dial 911.
“Yeah, there’s a fire at North Gate Apartments, number twenty-three.” I hang up before they ask more questions.
His eyes pinch and then widen as I pull a matchbook from my pocket—something we’re required to keep on hand as Blaze. I strike it against the wall, lighting the entire pack at once. I toss it past him, onto the couch that happens to be covered in paperwork, and rush for his room.
I sweep Oakley up off the bed, squeezing her tighter when she starts to fight me.
We hit the hall, and she gasps at the familiar smell, frantically looking to find Rowan fighting to put out the flame that’s taken over a few of the cushions.
She screams, and he yells.
And I’m out the door.
Chapter Twenty
Oakley
He’s delusional.
I don't know what he expected after the shit storm I woke up to two mornings ago. To show up, tossing me over his damn body and forcing me back to my house, where his fucking wife was sound asleep in the bed I slept in only a day before.
Like a complete hypocrite, he berated me about my decision to take off, as if it wasn’t expected, warranted even, and basically locked me in my own room as if he had the right.
I let him. I didn’t fight, didn’t even utter a damn word.
It was the right move, because big bad Alec couldn’t mask – or didn’t care to – his emotions. Clear as day, fear shone in his treacherous stare and it disgusted me.
How could he possibly think, even for a second, I’d bend at his will or even entertain his thoughts or feelings?
Like I said, delusional, which is one of the many reasons I snuck off again the first chance I got.
I was dead on my feet when he found me at Rowan’s, but after his stunt, my body’s been riding on a wave of over-hyped endorphins. It’s night fall, I’ve been up a solid forty-eight hours, and I’m no closer to rest. I laid in my fluffy hotel bed for five hours, staring up at the pebbled ceiling and couldn’t even force my eyes closed.
With a sigh, I turn off the water and sit back. Closing my eyes, I take a deep breath. A stupid bath is the only thing I could think of to try and relax my mind. I need sleep and it won’t come.
I keep seeing flashes of my dad, creating scenario after scenario of what could have happened. Where I sit, I know nothing. I understand nothing and it has me drowning in helplessness, something I’m not used to. I hate it.
Just when the tension in my shoulders starts to fade into the scorching water... the fucking fire alarm goes off.
You have got to be kidding me.
The hotel room phone begins to ring and I listen as door after door in the hall is opened and shuffles of feet begin to file down the hall – so much for a corner suite, still hear everything around.
Kids are crying, parents are yelling, and the staff is attempting to calm and convince everyone this will be a safe and qu
ick evacuation... from the fifteenth floor.
With a roll of my eyes, I lift the cheap champagne I found in my room to my lips and down a solid glass’ worth. I step out and drag myself to my bag I didn’t even get to unpack and toss my dirty clothes inside while pulling out a fresh pair of sweats and T-shirt.
I hear when the argument starts.
The poor little bellboy tells him, as nice and scared as can be, “Sir, you’re going the wrong way, you need to head downstairs until the fire department can get here and ... sir ... sir!”
And then my door’s kicked open and a raging, fuming, Alec Daniels stands in front of me, sweat dripping from his temples and all. Teeth bared, eyes bulging, he growls as he charges forward, but I cut him off before he can speak, my bag already slung over my shoulder.
“Save it.” I push past him out the door and surprisingly he lets me, but of course he stays on my heels.
No point in fighting. Clearly it wasn’t simply my being at Rowan’s that ticked him off, it was my being gone period.
We start down the stairs, single fucking file and slow as shit as we follow every other guest down the long ass line.
When we finally reach the first floor, I can actually smell the smoke and my eyes dart to Alec’s.
“What the hell is wrong with you?”
He ignores me, gripping my arm to pull me through the door and toward his truck...that’s parked right in front of the exit.
He yanks the door open and turns his glare on me, so I flip him off and hop inside, slamming the door behind me.
Soon as he’s behind the wheel, I start.
“Another fire, really?”
The vein in his neck thumps hard against his skin, he’s seconds away from losing it. “Towels.”
“That was stupid.”
“Tossed em on a float in the pool. It’s contained.”
Course it is, he’s not only trained to put out the flames but how to purposely cause them without risk, the big bad Blaze.
“You’re impulsive.”
He jerks to a stop and slides over in his seat, anger lacing his features. “They’re lucky I didn’t burn the fucking place down. And the next time you take off, I don’t give a shit where you go, it’ll be ashes as I drag your ass out. Don’t wanna be responsible for something burning to the ground? Stay. Fucking. Put.”
Frustration and anger turn into hot tears and I jerk away from him. “I hate you.”
He takes off, more force behind his foot than necessary. “Yeah, well.” His voice loses some of its vigor. “Guess we’re bout back where we started, huh?”
Not even close.
I fight a growl, shifting my glare out the side window.
This is a fucking nightmare.
I’m in hell.
And Alec is the devil.
And married.
And he fucked his wife on the bed he’d fucked me on … with me right down the hall.
He lit his brother’s house on fire.
I mean, what in the hell?
I’m disgusted with myself for even caring about these things when my focus should be on the fact that my father is gone. It’s as if Alec’s drama is clouding the thoughts of my dad, and I hate it.
I shouldn’t be thinking about anything other than the one man I could always depend on. Shouldn’t want to hug and hold anyone but him right now, yet I can’t help but wish I had a strong, tattooed shoulder to lean on. To tell me that, one day, everything will be okay when it seems so far-fetched.
I glance at Alec, and his eyes hit mine a moment before focusing back on the road.
In the last few weeks, even leading up to early this morning, I’d have claimed to have three people who cared for me.
Now, I’m not so sure I even have one.
I like to think Rowan does, but our friendship took a hit when everything with Alec came to light, and it has me questioning everything I’d thought I knew about him. He had known that Alec had feelings for me and made him feel like shit about it—to the point where Alec willingly filled the bully role. Rowan had kept me close to keep me away from his brother, which led me to believe he cared for me deeper than he showed, but apparently, he never did. It was all for fear of losing me.
But I’d never have abandoned his friendship, no matter where things might have gone with Alec, something I’d thought he understood.
Still, he’s been my best friend for a long time. Maybe I’m just pissed at the world, and there’s a deeper reason he and I have never worked. I think we’re past due for a serious conversation. I’m just not ready to have it yet. Either way, I don’t want him as mine anymore.
I just want my friend.
When Alec turns left instead of right at the intersection, I swallow.
“Where are you going?”
He takes a deep breath. He mutters his words through a wounded exhale, “You know where I’m going.”
He’s right; I do.
“We don’t even have to talk,” he speaks low, but his face hardens in disapproval. “Just blow off some steam. Your adrenaline had you starting to crash, and now, I’ve jacked you back up again. You’ve gotta work it out—”
“I know how this shit works!” I snap, yanking a T-shirt and shorts from my bag that he apparently grabbed after he tossed me over his shoulder. “And I don’t want to be alone with you.”
“Well … I need to be alone with you, Oakley. Just for a little while.”
With a shake of my head, I pull on the shirt over my head and step into the shorts, tossing the towel to the floorboard.
“And then what, Alec? Hmm?” I don’t turn to him but stare straight ahead. “You take me back to my house. Fuck your wife in my spare room. Disrespect the man you claimed that his opinion meant everything to you,” I scoff. “Bet he’d be real proud of how you tricked his daughter into believing you gave a damn when—”
“Stop!” he shouts, making me jump when his hand hits the steering wheel. “There’s more going on here than you realize. I can’t just … I need you to understand.”
“Understand what? That you’re a lying asshole?”
He seems to think a moment before he speaks, “Understand that there are more versions of ourselves than we like to admit. The version you know is real, right. The one she knows is anything but.”
“Yeah, well,” I mumble, looking out my window again, not even attempting to make sense of his nonsense. “Spoiler alert: Mr. Hyde dies in the end.”
If there’s one place in the world that could help bring me reprieve in a moment of weakness, it’s Blackline Academy. I was nervous to walk in, but once I did, it was like my dad was right beside me. And I just wanna feel close to him for a little while longer.
I hate to admit it, but Alec was right.
I needed this.
After the long weekend spent indoors and the taxing day I’d had, the solid workout and good sweat definitely helped. Now, my muscles feel firm yet loose, and my mind is less foggy.
All I need now is a shower, some food, and a solid day’s worth of sleep.
And there is no fucking way it’s happening under the same roof as Marissa fucking Daniels.
I bend to grab my water and head for the locker room.
Alec’s weights hit the floor. “All done?”
“I was done the minute you said the word wife, yet here you are, still babysitting.”
I don’t look back, and he doesn’t say another word.
I mean, what can he really say?
Oops, my bad. Forgot to mention that minor fucking detail. Don’t be mad.
Piece of shit.
I turn on the shower and pull my soiled clothes from my body before stepping under the cold spray. The freezing water stings like tiny needles, but I welcome the sting, and my head falls back to hit the wall.
Things will be so different now.
This place is—was—my dad’s whole heart and soul. He ran Blackline with more passion and dedication than any normal person could be known to possess
for any one thing. He gave everything to this school while still giving everything to me.
That’s one thing that made him so special. He broke a mold not a lot of men are strong enough to break. My dad wasn’t only one hundred percent devoted to his career, as many men are raised to believe they should be, but he was a hundred percent there for me, too. Always, no matter what.
He was my mother and my father and my friend. The strongest, bravest, best man I knew.
He was my hero.
Tears fall before I know it’s happening, blending into the water as they both run down my face, and my body slides to the floor, my shoulders shaking as I cry into my palms.
My skin prickles with awareness, letting me know he’s coming.
He doesn’t say anything, and he doesn’t lift me from the cold tiles, but he squeezes himself behind me so he can wrap his arms around my frame.
I should push him away, slap him across his face, and place guilt on him for everything wrong in my life right now. I don’t.
Instead, I seek out long, strong fingers and entwine mine with his.
“He was a great man, Oakley,” he whispers against my hair, and my lips start to tremble. “Brave. And he loved you with everything he had. And, even though it might mean nothing to you right now, I promise you with everything in me … I will find out what happened to him.”
When my muscles lock against him, his hold on me tightens, a desperate attempt to convince me that his words are true when they feel fraudulent.
“Look at me.”
I hesitate for a moment and then shift, slightly lifting my eyes to his, and instantly, more tears fall.
Everything hurts worse when I’m looking at him.
His hands lift, those rough fingers forcing a sigh from me as they scrape across my cheeks, but what has me holding my breath are his eyes. So strong and determined, deep-rooted anguish hiding behind the surface as longing fights for a way out. He only had me two nights ago, yet the creases framing his eyes tell me the forty-eight hours that has passed was too long to go without me.
But the emotions he’s showing me never make it past his lips. They get stuck there, shining back at me in a crushing silence that rings in my ears. And I know why.
Wrong For Me Page 14