Anchored: Book Three, The Reign Series

by Piper Malone

  “Okay, in theory all of these things are easy to do with the right connections and skills, which clearly your family has. Why keep it a secret from Sky?” Talking to the guys is one thing. Even having this conversation with Reagan would be okay. But everyone is leaving this up to Kat, and she is unnervingly relentless.

  “Adam threatened to carve up my section of the land because I am so absent. He told me as soon as the park dedication was over he would talk to Ben, who can start the paperwork to have my name taken off the property and this place.”

  “Can he even do that?” Caleb interjects. “I mean, would they do that?”

  “I’m not sure if they could, but I know Adam would try. He’s been distant since I’ve been in Boston.” I should have put the pieces together. “If there was something I needed to do here, I did it. I always fulfilled everything they needed me to. I kept this place functional. But he wants me here.”

  “What’s his problem?” Blake asks. “If you are doing what you need to, what’s his issue?”

  “He has never understood my attraction to Boston. It was never really something he pushed back on until the park project came up. None of them know anything about Reign.”

  “And none of them knew about Skyler,” Reagan adds.

  I shake my head. “That’s true. She knew a little about my family, but almost nothing about my life here. My family has never asked if I was with anyone in Boston, and Sky never asked more than polite inquiries about anything in Rockland. I have two worlds that have never touched each other, until now.”

  “In all fairness, Nick, that’s a conversation you should have. People don’t materialize out of nothing. Everyone has family, either good or bad,” Blake chimes in.

  “But,” Caleb huffs, “you did materialize. You came to Reign one night and never left. You told me you needed a place to stay for a few months while you got back on your feet.”

  The room falls silent, all of them looking at me.

  “Spill it, Harris. I’m tired of waiting,” Kat snaps.

  I know what happened, but I have never said it aloud. It’s enough to know it, another to say it.

  “I came to Reign because it was close enough that I could take the ride but far enough away that no one would know who I was. There are no clubs around here, and the women I dated had never heard of kink, or when I surfed the idea, they were unwilling to try.

  “I showed up on a Friday evening, and Sky took all my information . . .” I pass a glance at Caleb. “I was intrigued by her, and I needed to know more. I came back over a series of weekends. When I asked you for a place to stay, I told my brothers I was helping a friend remodel their house.

  “When Sky and I started to scene, I knew she was different, special. I also knew she could never be mine, because I was on borrowed time. My family accepted that I was gone because I told them I was living in the home I was renovating. When I told them I was staying in Boston, I had to strike the balance, but I could never work to the extent that I wanted. I didn’t have my home or my barn. But, the more I was with Sky, the deeper I felt for her. You”—I nod to Caleb—“and Blake were added bonuses. I had a world where I had brothers and a safe space.”

  “But no real purpose,” Kat offers, “because it’s here.”

  “Boston is a great city. If Skyler wasn’t there, I wouldn’t be either.”

  “You need to ask her to move here, Nick.” Reagan’s words are firm.

  “For what?” I demand. “To relocate to a place where she has no one?”

  “She came to Reign with no one,” Caleb interjects. “I think she’d be fine here with you. Cars travel north and south on the highways. We can visit each other.”

  “If she wants that.” My eyes drift to the envelope on the table.

  “You’ll never know unless you try.” Blake picks up the letter and hands it to me. “Sometimes you need to be persistent if you know what you want.” He passes a slick glance at Kat. “Are you ready to go home, wife?”

  Kat blazes a brilliant smile. “Yes, but just one thing. Nick,” she says as she turns to me, “if you love this place and her, figure it out. I know that you were set to annihilate Blake when you saw him with Sky at Reign. I saw the beast in you. You were vicious and out of control. Regardless of your straight-up insanity, the only person she wanted that day was you. If she can handle your dark shit, she’s a keeper. You cannot let a fuck-all brother ruin your life. No one deserves that power over you.”

  “But she left again.” The fears creep up. “I’ve loved things before, and they’ve disappeared.”

  “If she’s hitting triggers for you, that’s a conversation to have. You may be inadvertently hitting her triggers too.” Caleb’s sage wisdom meets its mark, and I’m immediately uncomfortable with bleeding my insecurities about my mother to Skyler.

  “You also have to work through the garbage that makes you think you don’t deserve her.” Reagan’s tough words are in sharp contrast to the soft curve of her body lounging on my couch.

  “I never said that,” I grumble.

  “No, you haven’t,” she agrees. “But you live it.”

  “I don’t—”

  “Your argument won’t move me, Nick. I see how you look at her, how you touch her. You protect her. If you felt like you deserved to feel as good as you do when you are with her, you would never push her away. You would have told her what your brother wanted from you.” She inhales. “Nick, I’ve never seen you happier than over these few days. I saw your teeth because you were smiling, not gnashing them. Read her note. Figure it out. Accept that you are a good man. You deserve a woman who cares deeply for all parts of you.”

  Reagan lived through hell when Caleb was injured. I held her when he first went missing, when she witnessed the bombing that caused his injury on television. She sobbed in my arms, and I worried she wouldn’t make it through the stress. Reagan made it through and threw some punches of her own during that battle. She figured shit out for her man, and now they are on a new path. I can only hope for a relationship like theirs.

  Each one of them offers their goodbye before driving down the road toward Boston in the brightness of the midmorning sun. When I’m alone in my house, the weight of her letter seems heavier than it should. I put another log on the fire and pick up her note. The fleeting thought to toss it in the fire races past, then dies. I need to know.

  My mind drifts to the night we played Chinese checkers. The difficult conversations in the reflection of firelight. The time taken to explore and indulge in Skyler like I never had before. I don’t want that to be over.

  I tear the envelope and read Skyler’s words.

  Nick,

  I am so proud of the work you have done to support your community. I am not so amazed to witness their love and adoration for you. They have had the pleasure of being with you from the beginning, and that is a special gift.

  I need you to know that I left because I feel like here is where you belong. You are happy and free and wild and the most perfect version of yourself. I was able to see all parts of you here because Rockland calls to you.

  It would be selfish of me to distract you from a place that loves you so deeply. I wish you had told me about the business, but I can understand why you didn’t. I am sure you will do well with it.

  I also need you to know that what I said in the church was not a lie. I love you. I have loved you from the beginning, even when you almost burned down Reign trying to make coffee.

  I chose to leave because I cannot make you choose, so I’m making the decision for you. I love you enough to know that where you are right now is where you need to be. Your family and everyone in your town is ready for you to establish your roots. I hope you agree with them. You are happy in your hometown. It suits you. All of it.

  Thank you for allowing me into your beautiful world. The memories of you and us and our time in Rockland are ones I will cherish forever.

  Yours,

  Skyler

  I should have
read this letter when someone else was here. She’s shoving me off. Skyler is giving me the it’s not you, it’s me routine. She’s making me her fucking butterfly that she’s going to let go because that’s what you do with the things you love.

  Fuck that.

  Chapter 40

  Skyler

  I’m not sure it if was Ax’s warp-speed driving or the fact that no one was on the road, but we got home in record time. Conversation was minimal. I couldn’t form words, and Ax juggled phone call after phone call.

  After every call, he’d hang up and his rendition of “Fuck me” would bend with his growing irritation.

  First it was typical. “Fuck me.”

  Then it amplified to “Fuck me!”

  “Fuuuuuck me.”

  “Fuck me and this fucking shit!”

  Ax never elaborates, which is fine. When we pull into the parking lot at Reign, he offers to come inside.

  “It’s okay. I remember the access code.” The hollowness in my own voice sounds pathetic.

  Ax stares at me for a minute, looking increasingly uncomfortable. “I really want to stay, Sky, but I have to head out. My team needs me, but you can always text me. Caleb and Reagan are on their way back.”

  I offer my thanks and slip from the passenger seat of his massive black truck. Ax waits until I have the door open before driving off the lot.

  “I’m home,” I say to no one as the steel security door slams behind me.

  Life at Reign comes flowing back in flashes of memories as I move down the access hall, past privacy rooms, and into Caleb’s office. My fingers brush the chair I occupied when I told him I found the lump and needed time off. His desk, neat as always, waits for his return.

  I set to the task of looking over each individual privacy room, ensuring equipment is in order, the clean scent of leather filling my nostrils as I open each door. When I move to the wide archway leading to the open playroom, my mind replays the day that brought me back and took me away.

  It was a simple plan: one quick session with Blake. It was wrong from the start. I was too in my head. I couldn’t fall into the space where Nick always settled me. Blake didn’t have the bite, the finesse, to get me there. I remember the sounds, my back to the mess unfolding behind me. Nick entering the room, the grunts, the thud of knuckles hitting skin. Ax shouting, then Kat inches from me. The simple plan exploded, destroying every good intention I had.

  My last memories of Nick in this place are of his green eyes boring into me, seeking any answer. His brutal affection easing to cradle me in his arms. His gentle embrace warmed me after a year of frigid isolation. The world felt right, whole. A deep heat blooms in my belly at the mere memory of Nicholas William Harris.

  I wanted to rip the world apart . . .

  The nagging guilt of leaving him catches on something. Calls with Caleb were almost always the same. A review of what was happening at the club, a quick rundown of everything new. When I asked about Nick, it was always the same. He’s fine, Skyler. Status quo.

  Nick’s words filter through my mind. I hated Caleb for knowing where you were . . .

  I look at the clock to make sure it isn’t too early and pull out my phone.

  “Hey, Sky,” Caleb’s voice calls through his car’s speakers. “What’s up?”

  “Hi.” The question dies on my tongue. Asking will not change anything.

  “Skyler?” Reagan sounds concerned. “We’ll be home in about an hour. Are you okay?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine. I just had a stupid thought, er, question.”

  “You can ask whatever you want, Sky.”

  I hesitate, unsure of how they will take my prying. “How did you know Nick was okay while I was away?”

  “What do you mean?” Caleb sounds confused.

  “When we talked and I asked about him, you always said he was good. He was himself.”

  “Right.”

  “How did you know that?”

  “Blake told me.” Caleb sounds increasingly concerned. “Are you back home? Is everything okay?”

  “I’m at the club.” After almost two months of living in Nick’s comfortable home, I feel like this building is a far cry from any definition of home. “Everything is good. I’m just trying to figure everything out in my head.”

  “Have you talked to him since you left?” Reagan sounds politely hopeful.

  “No.” If I talked to him now, I’d explode into a thousand pieces. “I gotta go, okay?”

  “No, not okay,” Caleb replies. “What is going on?”

  “I’m just trying to sort everything out in my head. I’m just a bit of a mess right now. I’m fine. I’ll be fine.”

  “We be there in an hour. See you soon.” Reagan disconnects the call before I can protest. I need to figure this out, because they can’t come running the instant I’m sad. But they do own the place, so who am I to say they can’t show up. Unconcerned with their pending arrival, my fingers fly through my contacts list.

  Blake picks up almost immediately. “Roman and Roman, how can we help you?” I hear Kat laugh in the background. They must be on their way back too.

  “Hey, guys, sorry to interrupt your drive, but I needed to ask a quick question.”

  “Sure, Sky. Do I need to pull over? We’re just getting on the highway.” I can hear Blake shifting in his seat.

  “I don’t know.” It could be quick. Or not. “Blake, what was Nick like while I was gone?”

  “Pull the car over, stud.” Kat’s voice is all-knowing. “This is going to take a bit.”

  “Nah,” Blake scoffs, “I got this. Are you ready for it, Sky? Here it is. He was a miserable fuck. He couldn’t hold a normal conversation. Piss-poor at getting anything done. Nick was an impossible lump of calloused—”

  “Okay,” I cut him off, “I get it. Here’s what I don’t understand. Why did Caleb tell me he was fine? If he was so awful, why didn’t he tell me?”

  “Well . . .”

  I hear Blake hesitate.

  “He didn’t know, Sky,” Blake admits. “When they left on their honeymoon, we were down three people: you, Reagan, and Caleb. Nick and I had to shoulder everything. Chloe and Ax helped where they could, but it was us running the show. There was no way I was telling Caleb that things at the club were not status quo. He would have cut everything short. I wasn’t doing that to him, or Reagan.

  “I tried to compensate for Nick’s inability to get his head out of his ass. The only thing he could do well was keep your desk clean and fuck with my days.”

  “Why didn’t you tell him I contacted you?” I can feel the thickness in my throat.

  “I didn’t know what you were up against, and part of me thought if I could get you to Reign, we could talk.” The sadness in Blake’s voice breaks my heart. The lengths all of them have gone through for me is humbling.

  I open my mouth to respond, but the words are lost. Sucked away by the upheaval I have caused everyone.

  “I was really worried about him, Sky. At one point, I thought he’d done himself in. Thankfully, I found him in your room, hungover and miserable. I didn’t even care that he was drunk enough to fall into the wrong room and pass out, I was just happy he was alive. He was pissed when I found him, but I was so relieved.”

  The memory of Nick’s confession—the scene with Chloe, his session with the domme—bubbles up to the surface.

  “Skyler? Are you still there?” Kat’s concern is overwhelming. It’s all too much.

  “Yup.” I swallow down the tears. “I’m good. I just needed that clarification. Thanks for your help.”

  “I gave him a piece of my mind, Sky,” Kat replies.

  I can’t help but laugh. “I’m sure that was a sight to see.”

  “We can come over once we’re home,” Kat offers. “We can bring you dinner.”

  “Thank you, but I’ll be okay.” I exhale a shaky breath. “I think I need some time to settle in.”

  “You call us anytime, Skyler. We’re there in a hea
rtbeat,” Blake says before signing off.

  I was in hell, Sky.

  We both were. Not that it matters now.

  Now we rebuild.

  No . . . I rebuild.

  He’s almost two hundred miles away, creating his life with his family and business. Which is best.

  The ache of leaving sits in my chest, hollowing out the space that once fluttered and pulsed with joy. I knew it was going to hurt—it hurt to write the letter—but I need to commit myself to getting back on track. I have laundry to do and a race to continue training for and . . .

  My desk! Yes, work. I’m sure there are tasks to be tackled and invoices to file. I scurry through the open play area, unwilling to really look at anything, and step into my office.

  In the circular hub of my workspace, the faint smell of lemons tickles my nose. The workspace is clean, dusted. My mug is upside down on a folded paper towel. It’s a classic move by Nick. He hated when I left a clean mug upright. He said it was an open mouth for dust mites to settle in and eventually swim in the pool of my coffee. My fingers brush the porcelain and right the cup.

  I’m going to have to face reminders of him everywhere. I can’t steep myself in the memories of Nick and this place. I’ll drown. With the cup right side up, I wait, part of me hoping to hear him grouse about my choice, but it never comes.

  “This will be okay.” The words are meant to comfort, but I can hear the lie in my own voice. “You have to accept that this is okay.” I made a choice. This time, we at least have a clean separation. He knows where I am. I know where he is. We know we are not with each other.

  The mail bin has a few items that need quick responses. A note in Reagan’s handwriting details the last tasks she completed, just a week ago. Everything seems up to date. Three applications sit in my inbox. I complete my tasks, happy that the routine steps for managing the club are still familiar to me. I can do this. I can complete my job even if I feel like I’m dead on the inside.