“I’m good. I get dizzy sometimes.”
What? For months he’d been hiding the brain injury, telling no one. Not his family, not even Reid. How fair that was to the guy, Gage constantly asked himself. Reid had given him a job, a chance to rebound from his blown career, and in return he'd lied about his mental condition. A lie by omission, but a lie was a lie was a lie.
Sure, Reid had caught him plenty of times with his head back and eyes closed. Being the man he was, he didn’t press it. He’d simply asked if he felt all right and invited Gage to talk anytime.
Gage didn’t want to talk. He wanted his brain in working order so he could see his family and still be the son and brother they knew.
Until then, he’d stay away.
“Gage?”
He hit her with a flashing smile. “Sorry. Tired today. How’d it go with Reid?”
“I guess okay.”
“Forgive me if I don’t believe you. What with that enthusiastic answer.”
“I said what I needed to. It’s a process with him.”
“Everything is.”
“You do know him,” she said.
“When you go into battle with someone you learn a lot. Fast.”
He wouldn’t talk war stories, though. War stories led to his purple heart and a gunshot wound that had healed and a brain that hadn’t.
Micki stood, stared down at the bench a second, then faced him. “Thank you.”
“For?”
“Trying to help. You don’t even know me, and yet it feels like we’re old friends.”
“Your brother and I are old friends. And I’m nuts about your mother. I’ll do whatever I can for anyone in this family.”
“I’m afraid they’ll get hurt.”
“I get that. Believe me. From the time I was a kid, my dad pummeled it into my head that I needed to take care of my sisters. In a lot of ways, it’s what drives me. But the thing is, they’re adults now. As adults, they’re entitled to make their own decisions. If they decide they’ll help you, you should let them. That’s what family does.”
She looked up at him, holding her hand over her eyes to block the shifting sun. “I guess I’ve been on my own too long.”
“Maybe that needs to change.”
8
Micki had left her backpack in Gage’s office and since her entire life—currently anyway—was in that bag, she didn’t want to leave it lying around.
He ushered her into his office, holding the door open for her, a gesture she found wildly unnecessary but kinda cute.
For years, the men in her life had consisted of Tomas and Phil, and the day one of them would hold a door open for her would be the day she’d check her sanity. Or theirs.
Even so, that door-holding thing made her feel…feminine. Not like the nerdy cyber whiz who opted for ripped jeans and skull T-shirts.
Gage dropped into his chair and rested his head back. Something was off with him. Something in his eyes and the way they’d just glazed over.
“Are you sure you’re okay? You don’t look great.”
Still with his eyes closed, he waved her off. “I’m good. Thanks.”
She picked up her backpack and hooked it over her shoulder. “I’m heading up to the house. Reid said something about maybe calling everyone together. Big family meeting.”
Gage opened his eyes, but kept his head back against his chair. “Are you comfortable with that?”
Did she have a choice? After years on her own, she’d have to readjust to having her family poking at her business. At her secrets. Right now, she wasn’t sure what her options were. If she intended on staying in Steele Ridge, her family might be at risk, and they didn’t deserve Mikayla-related hassles.
But leaving meant going off the grid. Possibly never seeing them again. Could she do that? To her mother? Whom she spoke with at least once a month. Connecting with her brothers hadn’t happened much, but she counted on Mom to keep her updated. Those monthly calls were her oxygen. Her lifeline to an existence, a connection, she’d left behind.
She shrugged. “I guess I have to be.”
Gage continued to rest his head back, but his eyes zoomed to hers. “Reid asked me to sit in.”
Great. Mr. All-American—the extremely attractive Mr. All-American—having a front-row seat to her fucked-up life.
When Micki didn’t respond, Gage sat forward. “It’s your call. I’m an outsider. If you don’t want me involved, I’ll tell Reid I’m not coming.”
An easy out. This guy truly was a superhero. A superhero who’d spent a lot of time around Reid, and more recently, her other brothers. In Gage, due to his lack of blood ties, she might have an ally. He hadn’t experienced the disappointments and emotional carnage she’d caused.
If anything, Gage was neutral ground. He'd understand the level of stress created when going against such a determined bunch.
“No,” she said, “I want you there.” His eyebrows lifted slightly. She’d surprised him. Good. “You know how to control Reid. And”—how to say this? —“as weird as it sounds, I think you get me. I don’t know why, but I don’t feel like you judge me.”
“I don’t know you well enough to judge you. What I see is someone who made certain choices and the people around her don’t know why. I have to assume you had reasons. Hopefully, damn good ones. Otherwise, you wouldn’t have stayed away so long.”
Just then, his cell phone rattled against the desk and he checked the screen. “Speaking of family. This is my dad.”
“Should I leave?”
“Nah.” He picked up the call before it went to voicemail. “Hey, Pop…What's up?”
She hadn’t missed his giving her an opportunity to share her dirty little secrets. Not that she’d be taking him up on it, but she’d give him credit for being a master at the easy out. While he listened to his father, he smiled up at her, but slowly shifted his head back and forth. “I know,” he said to his father, “but she's worried about you. You understand that, right?…Yup. I know. Where is she now?…Well, I'm in a meeting now. When she comes back, call me and the three of us are gonna talk this out…Pop, I get it. Don't worry.”
After another minute, he said his good-byes and clicked off.
“Family problems everywhere,” Micki said.
“Eh. No big deal. My parents are having communication issues.” He laughed a little. “Meaning, she's talking and he doesn't want to hear it. We'll work it out.”
“Thank you.”
“For?”
“Not running screaming from me when you've got your own family to worry about.”
“I try to make a habit of not running from beautiful women.”
Beautiful. Please. “Listen, pal, back off on that charm or you might be in trouble. I may even start baking cookies again.”
From the time she was seven, she’d stood by Mom’s side in the kitchen, learning to crack eggs one-handed, stirring batter, getting just the right amount of dough on the cookie sheet, all of it supervised by her ever-patient mother.
Micki hadn’t baked in ten years. Somehow, she didn’t seem worthy of it.
“What kind of cookies?”
She brought her attention back to Gage. “Does it matter?”
“Bet your ass it does. I hate nuts in my cookies. I like them, but there’s something about the texture of the nuts mixed with the cookie. Give me a gooey brownie, though, and there’s no telling how far I’d go to say thank you.”
She twisted her lips, fought the urge to take this conversation—this little flirtation—any further, but, hello, how many single women could resist Captain America with his muscles and protective instincts?
Oh, she could see it all right. He’d be the light in her darkness. The opposites that somehow, she hoped, made it work. Could she have that?
Not with Gage.
He knew too much for it to be organic. She wanted to start fresh with someone. Starting fresh with a stranger meant honesty and not being held hostage by her life in Vegas.
Or feeling like a disappointment.
More than anything, that’s what she wanted.
He popped out of his chair, took one step, and stopped. His body swayed and he grabbed hold of the edge of his desk just as she latched on to his arm, squeezing the corded muscles. “Are you dizzy again?”
“Need a second. That’s all.”
Interesting that he chose not to spew denials or convince her that he was fine.
“Do you want to sit?”
He leaned against the desk and clapped his hand over hers. His warm skin sent slow-moving tingles up her arm and…other places. Here she was asking what was wrong with him when she should ask what the hell was wrong with herself.
This was Reid’s apple-cheeked, wholesome friend. With the life she'd lived, she had no business thinking about any sort of comfort from him.
“I’m okay.” He patted her hand, then held on for a second. Not long enough to cross into let’s-bang-each-other mode, but long enough for her to know he didn’t mind her hands on him.
“Gage?”
“Yeah?”
“Why do I feel like I’m not the only one around here with secrets?”
Gage’s phone buzzed. Thank you. Keeping his gaze on Micki, he pulled out of her grip and checked the text that had just saved his ass. Reid. Once again, his savior. He’d have to buy his buddy a beer.
“It’s Reid,” he said. “Your mother has breakfast going.”
“That’s better than a family meeting so early.”
“I’m sure. At some point, if you want their help, you need to be honest.”
“I know. I just feel…” She turned away, grabbed her backpack and slung it over her shoulder.
“What?”
“Nothing. You’re Team Reid. I'm not throwing my ugliness into your friendship.”
Team Reid? What the fuck did that mean? He leaned back on the desk, folded his arms. For a second there, he’d thought he’d actually gotten through to her. Cracked the stubborn barrier enough for her to confide in him.
You’re dreaming, pal. “This has nothing to do with Reid. Two separate issues. Now, I ask again, you feel what?”
She gripped the strap of her backpack, squeezing her fingers around it, then loosening her hold. Squeeze, flex, squeeze, flex. When she spotted him watching her, she dropped her hands, let them dangle at her sides. Finally, she looked at him and held his gaze.
He waited.
And waited.
And waited, until…
“I’m the disappointment.”
Ah. Now they were carving into the meat. “Have they ever said that to you?”
“No. But—”
“Nuh-uh. I call bullshit.”
She gawked and the look, that wide-eyed, mouth-agape astonishment forced him to absolutely not laugh.
“Excuse me,” she said. “You call bullshit? On what?”
“If you haven’t been honest with them, you can’t know what they think.”
Listen to him. Maybe he should take his own goddamn advice and talk to his family about his issues. About the fact that he didn’t want to come home because of his TBI and his fear that his family couldn’t handle him not being the dependable go-to one. No matter what. 1-800-Gage. That was the inside joke. Need a lift? Call Gage. Sibling drama? Call Gage. Someone’s ass kicked? Call Gage.
Jesus, just thinking about it exhausted him.
But they weren’t talking about him now. This was about Micki and her cluster.
His phone buzzed again, rattling against the desktop and Micki flapped her arms. “Is that him again?”
“He’s probably watching. He’s a pain in the ass that way.”
At that, Micki smirked. “You do know him.”
Slowly, he levered off the desk, got to his feet, and was rewarded with the lack of a dizzy spell. For now, he’d leave Micki be. She wasn’t ready to talk and if she was anything like Reid, there’d be no convincing her. Damned bullheaded people.
Later. One step at a time. “Let’s head up to the house,” he said. “We can talk later.”
After breakfast, Gage followed Reid into his office at the training center and waited while the big man situated himself by propping his feet on his desk. Had to give the guy credit for letting Brynne do some decorating in the place. His once white-walled empty office now housed a giant cherry desk, a shiny credenza, and some of the nicest leather guest chairs Gage had ever seen. Heck, sometimes he came in here just to sit in those damned chairs.
“Plant yourself,” Reid said.
Gage gently lowered himself into one of the chairs. Moving too fast resulted in looking like a pansy and that would require explanations he wasn’t willing to give.
His friend watched him, his dark blue gaze unrelenting, and a hiss of panic dogged Gage.
“Can I ask you something?” Reid asked.
Here it comes. If Reid asked him straight away about a possible TBI, he’d…he’d…Hell, he didn’t know what he’d do. For months they’d been circling the weirdness, avoiding a direct conversation about his occasional balance issues and lack of focus.
Reid had never asked and Gage hadn’t offered it up. Their own version of don’t ask, don’t tell.
“Reid, we’ve been friends a long time. Ask me anything you want.”
“How do you feel about this Micki situation? I want your opinion. All of a sudden, she’s running from this guy in Vegas. I don’t know why.”
“She’s like a puzzle, your sister.”
“That she is. She used to be…” He paused, squinted a little. “…I don’t know, mischievous. When I was away at college, something changed. Then the day after she graduated from high school, she ran off to Vegas.”
“Jesus, that fast?”
“Yep. She’d gotten a job with Flynn. At the time, we didn’t know who the hell he was. Jonah looked into him and we realized he was”—Reid stared at the ceiling, choosing his words again—“a fixer.”
“A fixer? As in, he cleans up the messes rich people create?”
“Pretty much. From what we can tell, he’s the master. Gets the job done.” Reid finally made eye contact. “Always.”
“All these years you've all been wondering what she does for him.”
“My mother doesn’t know the half of it. She thinks he’s a PR guy. Inside though, I have to believe my sister is telling the truth about her role as his”—he made air quotes—“researcher. She likes to break balls, but she doesn’t have that killer instinct. Well, at least she didn’t. Now? I don't know what I know.”
The chime from the entrance sounded and Reid sat up, put his feet on the floor. “Hello?”
“It’s me. Uh, Micki,” came the reply.
Talk about timing.
“My office,” Reid said.
A second later, Micki appeared in the doorway. She still wore the same jeans, black T-shirt and jacket from earlier, but she’d ditched the hat and her hair looked different—fuller at the top, but straight at chin level—and the whole look, edgy but feminine, gave Gage a yearning to touch it. To put it his hands in it.
While on top of her.
And, shit, that was wrong on so many levels. The first being he shouldn’t be thinking disrespectful thoughts about the sister of a guy who’d given him an opportunity when he needed it. The second being she was vulnerable right now and if he was any kind of a decent guy, he wouldn't be contemplating getting into a physical relationship with her.
“Hi,” he said.
She glanced at him, then to Reid. “Hi.”
Reid propped his elbows on the desk. “What’s up, Mick?”
“Are you going into town today?”
“Not until tonight. You need something?”
“Clothes.”
“Clothes?”
After the morning they'd had, she wanted to go shopping? That one, he didn't see coming.
She nodded. “When I left Vegas, I only brought two days’ worth. I thought I could go into town and see if I found anything. If
not, I checked the bus schedule and there’s one that goes into Asheville.”
Asheville. By herself? After they’d just gotten done talking about what a prick her boss was? And what about this Tomas guy? He was probably still around.
“Uh,” Gage said, “are you dealing with Tomas?”
She nodded. “I am. I sent him an e-mail and told him I’m not going back. He hasn’t responded. Yet.”
“Well, after you blew up his phone, it’s probably taking him a minute to deal with getting a new one. Do you think it’s smart to be wandering around by yourself?”
Reid eyed him for a second, clearly amused at Gage questioning his sister.
She gave him the stink eye. “Tomas wouldn’t do anything.”
“You sure?”
She spun to the door. “You know what, forget it. I’ll ask Jonah.”
“Hang on,” Reid said, but Micki kept walking.
“Mikayla.” Reid's voice stayed level, but with enough heat for his sister to know he wasn't screwing around. “Hold up a second.”
Micki halted in the doorway and Reid rolled his eyes. “Suds asked you a legitimate question. This guy followed you here from Vegas. It’s not unreasonable to ask if he’s dangerous.”
Micki turned back, the look on her face more fuck-off than you’re-absolutely-right. “I need clothes. Can you help me?”
After a brutal stare down, Reid poked the speaker button on his desk phone, dialed, and waited while the line rang through. “Swear to God,” he muttered, “the females in my life make me batshit crazy.”
“Hey, babe,” a female voice said.
Brynne. Perfect solution, considering she owned a boutique.
“Hey,” Reid said. “I have you on speaker. With Suds and Micki.”
“Thanks for the warning. I will refrain from dirty talk.”
That brought a flashing smile to his buddy’s pissed-off face. “You’re too cute, Brynnie. I know you’re about to open so I’ll be quick. I’m gonna bring Micki down there. She needs some clothes.”
“Oh, fun. I ordered some great T-shirts from that new designer I met. I’ll have Evie pick a few things out.”
“Thanks. I'll see you in a bit.” Reid disconnected and sat back. “Check out Brynne’s stuff first. If you have to go into Asheville, we’ll figure it out. You are not taking the bus.”
Breaking Free (Steele Ridge Book 5) Page 8
