“I can’t.” The tears fell harder, and I shook. Then I was somehow falling to the floor, my legs going out from under me. Beckett was there, cushioning my fall, holding me close on his lap as he sat with me. He rocked me, his words soft and soothing as he slid his hands down my sides, keeping me calm. Or trying to. I was sticky with sugar, covered in coffee and the tears of betrayal and everything else that was my life.
“What do I need to do?” I whispered.
“We’ll figure it out. Tell the girls. Your brothers. I’ll help you. I’m here right now. Just cry it out. Then we’ll figure out what’s next. You’re allowed to hate him, Eliza. He may be a ghost, but you don’t have to revere him simply because he’s gone.”
“I don’t know what to do,” I whispered, even though he had given me a path. I would follow it, because I did as I was told. I needed to stop pushing myself down. This wasn’t me. This had never been me. Why did I feel like everything was falling? I was shaking, but the tears had stopped, yet Beckett kept holding me. Rocking me back and forth.
I had put my entire identity into being a military wife—Marshall’s wife. I had put everything into being that person. When that was taken from me, and they slapped the title of Gold Star widow on me, I figured that was the person I was supposed to become. The identity they had carved from granite and misery.
I wasn’t that person, either. I was a woman. Alone. Crying her heart out in the arms of her best friend’s brother. I didn’t know when I was supposed to get up. What I should do next.
For now, I just let him hold me. I pretended that everything was okay. I pretended that I wasn’t me. Maybe, for once, I could sleep.
Chapter 7
Beckett
* * *
The popping sound came out of nowhere, and I ducked, pulling the person nearest me out of the way. Bullets ricocheted, and somebody screamed. Something fell. Pain radiated through my back, over my body, and I tried to breathe, tried to do anything. Only I couldn’t. All I could do was blink, shielding myself and the person under me.
The blood pooled, and I looked down. He was gone. His eyes were vacant, but he screamed. Even in death. He screamed.
I shot out of bed, my whole body shaking, and cursed myself. I sat in the middle of my mattress, my chest heaving, my entire body covered in sweat, shaking. I pushed my hair out of my face and tried to catch my breath.
Another nightmare. Fourth day in a row. In the months since the shooting, I had been doing better. I had been learning to sleep. Making it through the nights. I didn’t know what was going on. I just couldn’t shake this feeling.
I had survived. Brian hadn’t. Brian had been a friend from college that Lee and I had known. The three of us had been out, but Lee had left early. Then the shooting had happened—a robbery gone wrong.
Now, my friend was dead.
I had watched it happen and hadn’t been able to help him. It wasn’t my fault. I told myself that often enough. I told the grief counselor I had spoken to a few times after the incident that it wasn’t my fault. My subconscious didn’t believe that. My conscious self didn’t either.
Then again, that wasn’t only it. I couldn’t focus, couldn’t do much. All I could do was try to get through the nightmares and pretend that I was okay.
Only I didn’t know if that would ever happen. Not when I felt like I was out of control.
I rolled out of bed and stood naked in my room, practically vibrating. I wasn’t weak. I kept telling myself that, and yet I felt weak. Something was definitely wrong with me. I needed to do better. But I didn’t think that was going to happen. Not when everything seemed so…off. So odd. I would be okay, though. I had to be. It just wasn’t going to happen anytime soon. Not if my dreams had anything to say about it.
I looked at my sweat-soaked sheets and cursed under my breath. My alarm would go off in about an hour, so I might as well get up and get ready for the day.
I stripped my bed, rolled the bedding into a ball, and walked naked to my laundry room. I stuffed everything into the washer, turned it on high on permanent press, and called it a day.
I looked around the spacious home my family and I had built and shook my head. I needed someone in the house. Maybe a dog. It had been a while since I’d had a pet. Perhaps the puppy could come with me to work. A couple of my cousins did that down in Denver. It could work up here. He or she could hang out with me in the office and then grow with me, and I would never be alone.
While that was a depressing thing to think about, maybe it was a good idea. I could also get a cat, one who didn’t mind if I wasn’t home as much during the day. Or perhaps a ferret. Though I didn’t know what I was supposed to do with a ferret. They were even more mischievous than puppies and kittens. So maybe just a dog, then perhaps a cat.
Something that could be in the house with me so I wasn’t alone with my thoughts all the time.
Pushing those ideas from my mind, I quickly showered and dressed in a pair of worn jeans and a t-shirt. I was on-site all day, and would probably end up getting messy, considering what we were working on. I had clothing for meetings, for sitting at the office and working, and for days like this when I knew I would get filthy, so I might as well look like a professional who worked with his hands, rather than a businessman in a suit.
I went to the kitchen and poured myself some coffee. I was just thinking about breakfast when someone knocked on the door. I frowned and walked over, looking through the peephole. I smiled softly.
“Hey,” I said as I opened the door, and Brenna walked in.
“I’m in the mood for waffles. Do you mind if I make them?” she asked, and I grinned. It was a common refrain. Brenna would come over and make me breakfast, long before our workdays, and I would sit and eat because she was a damn good baker and made the best waffles out there.
“That sounds pretty great,” I said, and my stomach rumbled. Her eyes filled with laughter, and I shook my head. “Apparently, I’m really hungry.”
“Good to know. Now, let’s get you fed, and you can tell me all about your day. I have to bake a shit-ton of cake tonight, and I need carbs to get me through.”
“Why don’t you just have cake for breakfast?” I asked as I sipped my coffee. I went over to the coffeemaker and poured her a cup, fixing it the way she liked it.
She took it with a smile and shook her head. “If I ate all of the cake I baked, I wouldn’t be able to fit through the door. I still want to like cake, so I don’t eat it every day. Sacrilege, I know.”
I shrugged. “I’m just surprised you still like it after all these years.”
“Once again, you’re making me sound old.”
I cringed, remembering when I had accidentally called her and Eliza old at the bar. “Have you seen Eliza lately?” I asked, the words just popping out of my mouth before I realized it.
She sighed, her face scrunched. “She called after you left last night,” Brenna said as she began whipping up the waffles. “I’m so pissed off. I mean, that fucking asshole. That bastard. How dare he go and have a baby with another woman?”
“So, we think it’s true? Not just something his parents came up with for more money?”
Brenna shook her head. “I don’t think they would just come up with that out of the blue. I mean, of course, we’re all going to want proof, and we’re going to deal with it as a family, because Eliza is family, right?”
“Of course,” I said, wondering why Brenna asked that at all.
“I just can’t believe that asshole was out there cheating on her with his ex-girlfriend from high school and ended up having a love child. And it’s not like we can go and hate anybody about it because Marshall’s gone, we don’t know the other woman, and, frankly, we don’t even know Marshall’s parents. And then there’s the little girl out there who did nothing wrong.”
“Exactly,” I said as I pulled out my waffle maker. I had never made waffles before in my life, but Brenna liked them, and so did Lee. Therefore, when Brenna wanted to m
ake waffles, Lee usually showed up, same as Benjamin. It was like they had the power to sense them. I knew Benjamin was on an early call today, and Lee was on deadline, so it would likely just be Brenna and me this morning.
“I don’t know what to do for her. It hurts to think what will happen. They want money, Beckett. After all these months, nearly a year now, they want money for that little girl. And I can see wanting to help, and you know Eliza wants to, but her life was completely thrown for a loop more than once. And now it’s changed completely again. I just can’t believe he cheated on her.”
I shook my head and sipped my coffee. “I can’t believe it, either. And I have no one to fight. No one to growl at or hit.”
“I feel like that’s exactly what she feels, too. Because you can’t do anything about it. At least, we can’t. We can pretend, but we have to sit here and show her what choices she has and then respect them once she makes them. It’s just not fair that she’s been put in this position.”
“And she was just getting to be okay. You know?”
Brenna frowned. “What do you mean?”
“You know what I mean. She was just starting to act like this new version of herself. Something happened in her life that changed everything, and she was figuring out who to be now. And that person needs us to support her. She was trying to make choices and figure out who she could be after the devastation, and then the world shifted again.”
I didn’t know if I was talking about Eliza or me, and given how Brenna looked at me, I had a feeling that she thought something was off, too. I cleared my throat. “Well, either way, we’ll help her.”
“Yes, we will,” she said as she plated two waffles and started on another.
“Let’s eat these, and then we’ll work on the next set.”
“Sounds good.”
I got the syrup from the fridge, a kind from Canada that Brenna had gotten me recently and I really only used when she was around. I poured some over my waffles and then handed it to her.
“Looks yummy,” I said.
She scoffed. “Of course, it’s yummy. I made it.”
We dug in, and I let the sweet taste of waffles settle on my tongue. “I think these are the best things you’ve ever made me.”
“You say that every time I cook for you,” she said, rolling her eyes. “I’m glad you let me cook for you. Lee gets all weird when I show up with waffles, and while Benjamin likes to eat my food, I’ve never actually cooked at his place.”
I frowned. “Really?”
“Really. I settle in here, at my place, and even at Annabelle’s, but Benjamin’s super private.”
I lifted my shoulder in a half-shrug. “That’s my twin for you.”
Her lips quirked into a smile. “It’s funny how different the two of you are, even though so many of your mannerisms are the same.”
“What’s different? Well, you know I’m the pretty one.”
She snorted and nearly choked on her waffles.
I narrowed my eyes. “I don’t know if I appreciate the way you laughed at that.”
“I’m sure you’re gorgeous and the pretty one, but come on, you’re twins. Identical twins.”
“So you’re saying Benjamin’s prettier than me?” I teased.
She rolled her eyes. Things felt normal, like we were back to the way we used to be. And I knew I was the reason for the shift. At least, I thought so. Because I couldn’t tell Brenna what had happened. I’d tried to, but no words came out. I hated that I was hiding things from her, but I didn’t know what to say. Sorry, I was in a shooting and didn’t tell anybody. I got hurt, but I’m okay. And then I watched Brian die, and I wasn’t sure what to do about it.
Everybody had issues, and they were dealing with so much. I didn’t want to be that person. I didn’t want to be the one who changed everything. And yet, I was doing it anyway.
Brenna sighed and set down her fork. “Okay, you and I need to talk.” My stomach clenched.
“Why do you have that shocked look on your face?”
I swallowed hard. “What shocked look?”
“You’re acting as if I’m about to ask you something horrendous. Maybe I am, but we do need to talk, Beckett. Because something’s wrong.”
I let out a breath and said the one thing that would probably get me thrown out of my own house, but I needed to know. “Brenna, you know I love you, just not in the way you might hope.” I blurted the words, wanting to soften the blow. Because I didn’t want to hurt my best friend. I just didn’t feel the same way about her as others thought she felt about me.
She blinked at me and then groaned. “Oh, my God. Really?” She rolled her eyes.
I froze, confused. “What?”
“Did you really just say that you love me but not the way I love you?”
I winced, knowing I had firmly shoved my foot in my mouth. “Well, I wanted to head you off at the pass. I didn’t want to make things awkward.”
She sputtered, hopped off the tall chair, and started to pace my kitchen.
Well, shit. I had done something wrong. It seemed that was all I kept doing when it came to Brenna these days. And once again, it was my fault.
“I don’t love you, Beckett. Not in that way. I realize that everybody in our life thinks that I do, that I have this secret crush that I’m never going to get over. That’s not it. I have things going on in my life that have nothing to do with you. Yes, I may have had a crush on you at one point, but we were much younger then, and then I saw you throw up after you ate too many Jell-O shots, and the love and whatever crush I could have had quickly went away.”
Mortified, I put my hands over my face and groaned. “Brenna.”
“No, I’m going to continue. Thank you for thinking so highly of yourself that the moment I say I want to speak to you and try to act as if we’re okay, you think I must be confessing my feelings for you. And thank you for making me feel like I’m an idiot.”
I let my hands fall and growled. “You aren’t, Brenna. I am.”
“Oh, look, for the first time in a very long time, we agree on something.”
“What?” I said, frowning.
“Beckett, when’s the last time you came over to my house?” I opened my mouth to say something, and she held up her hand. “And, no, not so I can lure you into a sweet seduction.”
I cringed. “Brenna.”
“Let me continue. When was the last time you came over? When was the last time you asked me to hang out with you? It’s been months. It’s always me coming to you lately. Hell, I’ve been spending more time with Lee and Benjamin than I have with you recently.”
“You have?” I asked, curious.
“Not because I love them either. Because I have friends. I’m also friends with Annabelle. It’s amazing that I can be a complex person and have more than one friendship.”
“That’s not what I meant, Brenna.”
“I know. Then again, I don’t really know what you mean these days. You’re my friend. I don’t love you like everyone thinks I do. Not that way. Things are weird.”
“What do you mean?” I asked, even though I knew why they were weird.
“You’ve been strange for a while now, and it feels like you’re keeping secrets from me.”
“It’s not that I’m keeping secrets…” I said, knowing I was lying.
She blinked at me and gave me a sad smile. “I used to be able to read you. I used to be able to know when you were lying to me. I don’t know now. Something happened. Something changed. And maybe it’s not my right to know. Maybe I’m wrong. I’m not trying to emotionally manipulate you or do anything crazy for you to tell me. Still, I want you to know that I’m here. I want you to know that I will always be here. I don’t like that you’re keeping something from me. And it’s hurting you. I can see that. So, it’s hurting me. You’re my best friend, Beckett. And yet, I don’t know who you are right now. And I hate it. You’re in pain, and you’re lying to me.” She sighed, looked down at her half-eaten waf
fle, and shook her head. She came to my side, kissed me on the cheek, and I felt the friendship there. And nothing else. Not what others thought. I was a damn idiot.
“I love you, Beckett. And maybe I’m being selfish for wanting to know what’s wrong, and that’s fine. I’m responsible for my feelings. When you’re ready, just know I’m here. Because I love you. We all do. Just like we love Eliza. I only wish you would stop lying to me.” And then she grabbed her bag and left, and I sat there in the kitchen, feeling like an asshole.
I didn’t know why I was hiding things from her. Hiding things from everyone. It didn’t make any sense. I couldn’t stop.
The moment I said it aloud, it would be real.
Suddenly, I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t do anything. So, I did nothing. Just let my best friend leave, knowing I needed to fix things.
Only I had no idea where to start.
Chapter 8
Eliza
* * *
I signed off on the contract for my final commission and rubbed my temples. I still had a few other things I needed to do, but maybe I needed a break more. I hadn’t taken one since losing Marshall. I had been cognizant of that decision, telling myself that I needed to focus on work so I knew I had a path for my career and what I needed to sustain myself. It had been on that checklist for new widows, after all.
And I had relished the plans and organization so I didn’t have to think about making any choices beyond the major ones pushing at me. Only I hadn’t taken a break.
I needed to stop getting lost in my head and focus on what to do. Meaning I needed to figure out if this Madison truly existed, and if she was Marshall’s. And then, what would I do afterwards? What could I do? Would I give Marshall’s parents some money so they could do with it as they saw fit? Would I give it to Madison—this anonymous child that I had never met?
I wasn’t sure, but I needed to figure it out. Meaning, I needed answers. And I knew the people I needed to talk to because they would know what to do to help me—and how to look it up. I glanced down at my phone. The time had come. I went to my computer, opened my video conferencing app, and dialed in.
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