by Misti Murphy
“You don’t say. My face still feels like chopped liver.”
“Anyway, the point is... I don’t know why you’re sitting around here moping.”
“Go fuck yourself.” I toss the coaster at him.
“Nah. You two have done a fine job of screwing things up. I think I’m just going to enjoy my beer and watch how this show plays out.”
“It’s over, Mace,” I say. She was only ever after one thing. It’s funny, thinking that. Reminds me of how we guys always used to tell her to be careful around boys. That they were only ever after one thing. That they’d break a girls’ heart for an easy lay. I should have seen it coming.
Tom turns away from the TV. It’s the first time since we all took a seat around the table that he’s given us his full attention. “You’re kidding, right? Does she know you’re building her a fucking house?”
“A house? You?” Mace’s mouth drops open. “Do you even know what a house looks like?”
“Sure I do. We’re staying in one, aren’t we? At some point I do want to settle in one place.”
“With our sister,” Tom interjects. “I saw the floor plans. The nook in the living area, like the one our parents had. The spot Claire used to always curl up in when she was reading. You may as well have drawn fucking hearts with your initials in them, you bloody girl.”
“Shut the fuck up.” I glare at him. “At least I’m not searching for some woman I knocked up, like some modern day Cinderella bullshit.”
“Fine,” he says, lifting his beer to drain it. “But I’m just saying she wouldn’t have left if you had told her.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” I push off the stool and slam a couple notes on the table. “For my shout.”
“He’s right,” says Mace. “Hell, I’m the last person who wants to admit it, but the girl loves you. I don’t know why. You’re getting crotchety in your old age, that’s for sure. But she does. Practically told us she was going to marry you while you were unconscious.”
“She what?” I’m stunned. Maybe I am fucking old because it feels like I’m having some kind of heart attack with the way my pulse slows to nothing, trying to pump sludge through my veins.
“Do you need me to quote her or something? She isn’t fucking Shakespeare,” Mace grumbles. “You’re building her a house, bro. You took one hell of a beating for her. So do you have the guts to tell her how you really feel?” Getting up, he snatches the bills in front of me. “Either way I’m sick of this conversation. I’m going to get another beer.”
“But she told me this was a fling for her. That there wasn’t any point in continuing what we had.”
“Right,” Tom says. “And you believed that?”
“She said it was just about losing her virginity,” I mumble under my breath. It broke my fucking heart when she told me that. The pain in my chest far worse than my face. “She won’t answer my calls, texts, or hell, I’ve even sent emails.”
“Bloody hell.” Tom glares at me. “I never want to hear about you taking my sister’s virginity again. But, come on. Don’t you think maybe she lied to you?”
“Damn it.” Maybe she did. I did tell her I was leaving, that I didn’t stick around, but I hadn’t been talking about us. I’d been talking about every woman who had come before her. And the whole reason I hadn’t stayed with anyone was her. But I hadn’t told her that, hadn’t thought to after what she’d said.
“Besides, she doesn’t know Mace took your bike and left you stranded out of town. She was pretty devastated, thinking you left without saying goodbye.”
“Your brother’s an asshole.”
Tom rests his hands on his head and roars with laughter. “He’s your best friend.”
Mace drops another round between us. “I wanted to see how far you would go for my sister.” He shrugs. “But you’re still fucking here.”
Chapter Seventeen
Claire
"You look gorgeous tonight, Claire," Henley says from behind me. It's been five weeks since the last time I saw him. Funny how much a person can change in that time. Where I once saw a good man, upright and moral, now it's easy to see it was just a mask. He offers me a flute of champagne. "I've missed you."
That must be why even now his gaze darts around the room, crawling over the bodies of other women. I drain the champagne, wondering why I came back to this world. The charity. That's important, but nothing else here means anything to me. These people, they pretend to be my friends, but they're just like Henley. "I told you we were done, Henley.”
"You didn’t mean it. You just needed time to cool down." He leans in to kiss my cheek, and my stomach twists. "Please forgive me. I adore you, Claire. We're perfect for each other."
Turning my face away, his lips manage to catch my ear before I step away. "Perfect?"
"You're so sweet and innocent. The face of House to Haven. With you by my side, we'll capture the media's attention in a way I haven't been able to on my own. Imagine the money we can bring in for House to Haven, the volunteers you'll get."
"Not to mention keeping your image squeaky clean." I grab another glass of champagne as a server passes close by. "No one would believe you're running around screwing wannabe porn stars if you married me."
"I wouldn’t need to if I was married to you." He smirks, lifting his glass to his lips. “I’m sure you would be more than satisfying.”
I want to slam the glass into his perfect fucking teeth. See how he looks to the masses on TV if he's missing a couple. "That's all it ever was for you? Just part of your carefully constructed image?"
"I enjoy your company. You're a sweet girl, if a bit naive. But we work well together."
"That was the old me." I finish half the champagne in my glass.
"The old you?"
Olivia gestures at me from the side of the stage, and I set my glass down on the table behind me. "If you'll excuse me."
"Sure. We can talk more about this after the speeches."
I don't bother to respond as I walk away from him. My mind is racing as I take the stage, clasping my hands together to fight the shaking. Looking over the crowd, I glimpse Tom in one corner, his arms crossed over his chest. He looks great in his suit. I'd sent him tickets ages ago, but I hadn’t been certain he’d come.
He grins as Chelsea slides up beside him and links her arm through his. I’m so grateful for her. That’s she’s by Tommy’s side, helping him as he searches for the woman who sent him the pregnancy test. Neither Razer nor Mace are with them, but Tom tilts his head as if he knows I’m looking for them and I glance in that direction until I make eye contact with Mace. A tight smile on his face, he adjusts the tie hanging around his neck. He’s not altogether comfortable in the crowd, but he fakes it anyway. “Razer?” I mouth, and he shrugs, shaking his head.
I squeeze my eyes shut and take a deep breath before stepping up to the microphone to address the room. I’ve made speeches many times before, but this one will be my most important. Because tonight, I’m stepping down from running House to Haven. Nerves flutter in my belly, and I have to clear my throat, but I know I’m making the right decision.
I'm going home.
I’m not even sure why I came back. Only that being here made everything all so crystal clear. I don’t belong here. I’m not entirely certain I ever did. This isn’t the life I want any more. Home may not be perfect, but it’s where I can truly be me, and that’s what I want. I’m not as flawless as the people staring up at me believe, and I don’t want to try to be. I no longer want to pretend.
Maybe going home won’t fix everything. Razer’s still gone, and I have to find a way to get over that, but these rough and crazy men are my life. The rest will fall into place over time.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I want to thank you all for coming tonight and for supporting such an important cause. Your contributions will help House to Haven continue working toward housing homeless children for the next year.”
A roun
d of applause bounces off the walls, and I sweep a glance over the entire room. These people have meant so much for House to Haven. I can only hope they’ll continue to support the cause without me.
I take a deep breath. This is normally where I would mention Henley Travis and the great work the CFN does, and how together we’re helping to build a better future for those less privileged. But I’m not sure that’s the truth anymore.
Henley makes his way toward the stage, adjusting his tie. I could out him for the fraud he is. Let everyone know he has the smallest penis in the world and that he tries to compensate for it by screwing flaky wannabe porn stars. But would it be worth it? I’m not really sure. The truth is there are so many people who believe in what he stands for because he makes them believe. Perhaps he isn’t a good man, but his charm and presence are a force for good in this world. Then again…
“It’s with some sadness that I regret to inform you tonight that I will no longer be the face of House to Haven. When I first started this organization, I only saw the good we could do. I’ve loved every minute I’ve spent working with such amazing volunteers. But it’s time for me to leave it in other, more capable hands. Olivia, can you come up here, please.”
Olivia clutches at her chest, her mouth hanging open. I guess I probably should have warned her I’d be handing it all over to her, but I hadn’t been certain. Until now. Not that she isn’t perfect for the role, and she’s virtually been running the show for the last month anyway. “This is Olivia Grayson. Most of you might know her voice. She’s spent a lot of time behind the scenes, especially for this event. Now she’ll be the face you all associate with House to Haven.”
A few people clap, and a quiet murmur runs through the crowd before the sound of applause amps up. I give Olivia a tight squeeze. “You’ve got this. You’re going to do much better than I did.”
“What are you going to do?” she asks, her eyes shining with emotion.
“I’m going home,” I say, feeling for the first time that I’m really truly the most me I can be. “I made this my life, but it isn’t what I want. I still want to make a difference, but as who I really am, and this girl isn’t her.”
Henley stands at the front of the stage. “What are you doing, Claire? Are you crazy?”
“Maybe.” I can’t help the grin that spreads across my face as I cover the microphone with my hand and lean down so he can hear me. “But I’d rather be crazy than a fake like you.” Then I turn to Olivia. “The contracts with CFN were cancelled last night. It’s going to make things a little harder for you, but I know if anyone can find the extra donations, it’s you. It’s better than being mixed up with this hypocritical asshole.”
I leave Olivia to wrap it up, and despite being dropped in it, she has the crowd eating out of the palm of her hand as I make my way over to Mace, who slips his arm around me. “You okay? That was a big speech.”
“Yes. No. I will be. Where’s Razer?” I lead him across the room to where Tom and Chelsea wait for us.
Mace squeezes my shoulders. “Sorry, Little Bit. I thought he would be here.”
“Is he still in Reverence?”
“He’s still staying with Tom,” Mace says. “I should probably tell you something.”
But he doesn’t because Chelsea’s flung her arms around me. “So you’re coming home, then?”
“I am.” I say as all four of us stroll into the foyer. “I’m not sure what I’m going to do yet. But I think it won’t matter. Anything will be good as long as I can be free to be myself.”
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Henley says, marching up behind us. “You can’t just leave me like this.”
And I think this is the first time I get it. I’m the one people believe in. Not him. If I walk away, if I stop believing in him, he’s nothing, and he knows it. Without me he’s got no credibility. And it won’t be long before whatever secrets he’s hiding in his closet come to light. That makes him desperate. “I left you a month ago. What I do now is none of your business.”
“Of course it is. It’s in the contract. We’re a partnership.” He grips my wrist. “You can’t just walk away.”
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Mace hand his jacket to Chelsea and begin rolling up his sleeves. “Contract’s absolved. Ask your father, or anyone on the board at CFN. There’s nothing that can tie me to you. So walk away, Henley.”
I’m still prepared to let him get out of this with his dignity intact. He can still recover from this. All he has to do is walk away.
“So I drove up to that bit of dirt you call a town,” he whispers. “What was his name? The guy with his cock in your mouth, you little whore?”
Razer
“Razer.” I offer, stepping in front of Mace and halting him from decking the asshole who thinks he can manhandle Claire and get away with it. This must be Henley, because no one else would be stupid enough to treat her like that in front of her brothers. Has he not noticed the tick under Mace’s eye? I glance over my shoulder. Mace is standing there, glaring with his arms crossed. If this little tosser doesn’t let go of her in a minute, one of us is going to rip his arm off. “You okay, sugar?”
“Yeah, I’m fine,” she says, smiling so big it makes my heart beat funny. “We’re just talking, aren’t we, Henley?”
“Well, we’re running late,” Mace snarls. “We’ve got a reservation.”
“Look,” the asshole says, “you can’t just walk away from me. From this.” He waves his hand to indicate the room behind us. “These people expect things from us. Do you think they’ll keep supporting me when you leave?”
“Maybe,” she says. “If they don’t find out about your penchant for strippers.”
“You know how journalists work, Claire. You leave and they’re going to go nosing for a story.” His knuckles go white with how tightly he grips her wrist, and I advance on him, but she just smiles as if to say she’s got this. So I wait.
“That’s not my problem,” she tells him. “You made your bed, or rug, or whatever. You lie in it.”
He growls at her. Does he actually think he can get away with treating her like that? But she signals for us to stay where we are. I don’t like it. I’m bristling with the desire to put him in his place, possibly with a fist to his face.
“I’ve got photos,” he says. “Telephoto lenses are amazing things. You probably should learn to shut your curtains.”
I’ve taken all I can, and I’m pretty sure both Mace and Tom are on the same wavelength because we all converge on him, but not before Claire. She’s like a lightning strike with how quick she moves. Her hand shooting up into his face, exactly how we’d practiced, how Tom had taught her. There’s a crack as the heel of her palm pushes into the soft cartilage of his nose and puts him off balance. He’s about to fall on his ass, but Mace has the fucker’s arms locked behind him.
Claire gets right in his face. “You know Tom. Well, this is my other brother, Mace. And then there’s Rush. He’s a magician.”
“And me,” I say.
She darts a glance at me, before continuing. “They’re fighters, former marines. These three could…”
She’s looking for a way to put it without swearing in front of the people passing around us, but I don’t have the same compunction. “We could fuck you up. Actually, it’d be my pleasure.”
“We know how to hide bodies, too.” Mace grins. “Just give us a reason to put your ass in the ground.”
Henley starts trembling, sniffling, and I wonder if he’s going to piss himself. “I can’t believe you considered marrying him,” I can’t help saying.
“Don’t remind me.” She folds her arms across her chest. “Honestly, Henley, I don’t believe you have any photos, do you?”
“No,” he mutters.
“I think you were trying to scare me, but the thing is, I know you don’t have the balls to pull off that kind of dirt gathering. There’s nothing that can keep me here. House to Haven’s going to be just fine under
Olivia’s care, and I don’t have to pretend to be someone I’m not anymore.” She walks away from him, threading her arms through Tom and Chelsea’s.
But Mace and I are on the same page.
“Contact her in any way, stalk her, anything…” I tick them off on my fingers.
“Dead,” Mace says.
“Buried.” I grin. “You got it?”
Henley nods, and Mace lets him go, knocking into him as we follow after the others.
***
The server shows us to our table, and we all settle around it while he hands out menus. Tom takes the seat closest to Claire, and Mace pens us in on the other side, constantly leaning around us to carry on their conversation about Tom’s baby momma. Chelsea’s opposite us, joining in on their conversation whenever Mace lets her get a word in.
But that’s the last thing I want to talk about now. I haven’t had five seconds alone with Claire since I got to the charity gig, and after the last week, I’m desperate to just hold her and kiss her while we talk about the past, the future, and our present.
“So you’re coming home?” I twist in my seat to clasp her hands between mine. “You’re going to move back to Reverence?”
“Are you?” she asks.
“I’m planning on it.” I rub a circle in her palm with my thumb.
“He’s going to do it,” Tom says, leaning over her shoulder to address Mace. “You’re going to owe me money.”
“Nah, he’s a pussy.” Mace leans around me, killing my conversation with Claire. “He won’t do it.”
“What on earth are you talking about?” Claire darts a glance at both boys before settling her gaze on me.
“They made a bet on the way down.” Chelsea laughs, leaning on the table. “I can’t wait to see how this thing ends.”
