Break the Sky

by Nina Lane

  Dean opened the damp envelope and took out a stack of typed pages. It looked like one of his academic papers or something.

  “I know you told me you didn’t come here for this,” he said. “And I believe you. But I also know you’ve straightened up over the past few years. You’ve helped me out a lot here, done excellent work, and you’ve earned this.”

  He pushed the papers across the island to me. The Gerald A. Haverton Irrevocable Trust…

  A weird chill ran up my spine. “What… uh, what’s this about?”

  “Your inheritance,” Dean said. “I talked to the lawyer last week, and he organized the paperwork to transfer the assets over to you. Most of the funds were invested in stocks and mutual funds that have done very well, so you can keep them there until you decide if you want to—”

  “Wait a second.” Now the chill was creeping into my veins. “You’re giving me my inheritance?”

  “I’m not giving it to you. You earned it.”

  I stared at the papers. Words jumped at me like insects. Amendment, revocable, trustee, sum, condition precedent.

  I looked at Dean. He was watching me, like he was waiting for me to give a cheer of fucking joy.

  I shoved the papers back in his direction. “I don’t want it.”

  He blinked. “What?”

  “This wasn’t why I came here.” My blood was getting hot, the cold evaporating. “Thanks for believing me, but I never wanted it. I sure as hell didn’t come here to earn it.”

  “Archer, it’s yours.”

  “No, it’s not.” I shoved away from the island and got to my feet. “It’s a goddamned shitload of money that our mother’s father used to bribe me to go straight.”

  “Who cares if he wanted to bribe you?” Dean said. “It’s still yours. You’re right—it’s a shitload of money that you can take with you.”

  When you leave.

  Tension clawed at my neck. “What made you decide to give it to me?”

  “I’ve wanted to give it to you for years, but I couldn’t until you fulfilled the conditions our grandfather set.”

  “And now you’ve decided that I have.”

  “Yes.” Dean started to look irritated. “What’s your problem? You knew he listed me as the trustee and executor.”

  “Yeah, because you were always so fucking perfect.” My chest tightened. “He knew you’d follow his rules to the letter.”

  “So what?” Dean frowned. “It’s a legal document. Of course I had to follow the rules.”

  “You wouldn’t even know how to break the rules.” I pushed the papers at him again. A few fell to the floor. “My whole life, you’ve been the standard everyone else is measured against. Do you have any freaking idea how hard it is to measure up to perfection?”

  Dean’s frown deepened. “You never even tried to measure up to a damn thing.”

  “Because it was impossible.”

  “Bullshit,” he said bluntly. He shoved off the stool, his expression darkening. “You didn’t come from some destitute life. Mom and Dad would have helped you if you’d asked. And if you’d bothered trying, you wouldn’t be a high-school dropout and a former user with a record. Don’t blame me because it took you this long to get your shit together.”

  Anger and shame ripped through me.

  “Easy for you to say, Boy Scout,” I retorted. “You think Dad didn’t hate me? I was a walking reminder of the fact that his wife fucked around on him. How would you feel if Liv did that to you?”

  “Watch it.” Dean stepped toward me, his eyes narrowing with a dangerous, hard glint. “You leave Liv out of this.”

  I knew I was pushing him. I wanted to. It was a horrible itch, like a thousand teeth gnawing at my skin.

  “We may have lived in the same house,” I said. “But we had totally different lives.”

  “What does any of this have to do with your inheritance?” Dean asked.

  “That’s not why I came here.”

  “I don’t care. I know you could use it.”

  “Yeah, I could use it.” I spun to face him. “But do you know why I didn’t try to earn it and why I didn’t come here for it? Because I’ve always hated the idea that you were the only one who could say I was worthy of it.”

  “It had nothing to do with worth, Archer. You just had to fulfill a set of conditions that—”

  “That proved my fucking worth. Isn’t that what you think I’ve done now? I’ve proven I can stay clean, hold a job, be responsible. I’ve proven I can work well. I’ve kept my word that I wouldn’t treat Kelsey badly or—”

  “Stop,” Dean interrupted. “You leave Kelsey out of this, too.”

  How could I leave the woman I loved out of anything?

  The question blasted into me like a hurricane.

  “No.” I pointed a finger at Dean, clenching my other fingers so my hand didn’t shake. “You don’t tell me what to do or not do about Kelsey. She’s—”

  Mine. Mine, goddammit. She’s mine.

  No way could I tell Dean that. I tightened my fists and let the anger rise.

  “I’ve proven I can keep my word, right?” I snapped. “Now you’re going to pat me on the head and tell me I’m a good boy, here’s your money, thanks for the help, now goodbye?”

  “Look, Archer, I don’t know what the hell this is about.” Dean yanked at the knot of his necktie, his face hardening with frustration. “I’m not the one who set the conditions, but you’ve known about them for the past seven years. You could have used the money to turn your life around, but you didn’t even try.”

  “I couldn’t!” I shouted. The anger boiled into rage, and suddenly I fucking hated my brother with his PhD and his big house and his perfect life. “Everything is so goddamned easy for you. Jesus Christ, Dean, I was an addict. I did drugs. I was in jail. I fucked around. I worked so I could get my next fix. Some days I woke up on the floor of a motel room without knowing how I got there or what I’d done. How the hell do you think I could have turned my life around?”

  That shut him up for a second. Then he said, “Mom and Dad were—”

  “Mom and Dad were glad to be rid of me, you shithead.” I stalked to the other side of the room, my fists clenching and unclenching. “With me gone, they could spend all their time bragging about how successful you were with all your awards and trophies and scholarships. That’s why our grandfather put you in charge of the inheritance, right? Because he knew you were so responsible.”

  “And you think that was easy?” Dean’s mouth compressed. “I took care of the old man when he was sick with lung cancer. A fucking year. I went to live with him. He was a mean sonuvabitch, but I did it because no one else would. That’s why he left me so much money and made me the trustee of your fund. But you’d better believe I never wanted to be in charge of your inheritance. I’ve hated the responsibility. You have no idea how many times I wanted to give it to you just to get rid of it.”

  “But you didn’t because you had to follow the rules.”

  “It’s a legal document,” Dean retorted. “And I tried to keep track of you, to find out if Mom had heard from you, to figure out what you were doing. Half the time I didn’t even know how to reach you. Hell, I didn’t know if you were alive or dead. What else was I supposed to do but follow the rules?”

  “You could have talked to me yourself.”

  The words escaped me with a rush of pain. I turned away from him, embarrassment scorching my chest.

  Dean was silent for a minute. Tension radiated from him.

  “Archer, how was I supposed to talk to you? I couldn’t even find you.”

  Did you try? I couldn’t bring myself to ask the pathetic question.

  “I never wanted to hold this over you,” Dean said. “I know you got a shitty deal. You think I don’t? But for Christ’s sake, get over thinking it was so damned easy for me. I’ve worked my ass off. I’ve fought for everything I have, including my wife and son. The hell I’m going to let you say I have it all bec
ause of dumb luck.”

  My jaw clenched. I’d fought, too. But I’d lost.

  A picture of Kelsey surfaced in my mind. Sharp, brilliant, beautiful. Storms and laughter. Heat and softness. Chaos and peace. I’d never expected her when I came to Mirror Lake. Never imagined the thought of leaving her would break my chest wide open.

  “Archer, our grandfather put this money aside for you,” Dean said. “Take it and go do something good with it.”

  And get out of my life. He didn’t say that, but he didn’t have to. I’d always been the scar on the West family and there was no reason my status should change now. I was a fool to think maybe it could have.

  Tension clawed at my neck. “I don’t want it.”

  “Oh, for god’s sake.” Irritation cut through Dean’s voice. “You want to carry a chip on your shoulder for the rest of your life? You’re going to keep blaming me, blaming Mom and Dad when they did their best?”

  “The hell they did.”

  “Mom and Dad gave you everything they gave me and Paige,” Dean said.

  “No, they fucking didn’t.”

  “Oh, yeah?” He whirled around, his arms spread. “What, Archer? What the fuck did you not have that Paige and I did?”

  “A family!” I shouted. “A goddamned family, okay?”

  I saw his shocked expression the instant before my vision blurred. I bent to grab the papers off the floor. Tried to stop my hands from shaking as I pushed them back into the envelope.

  “Forget it.” I rolled up the envelope and shoved it in my jacket pocket. “I’m leaving.”

  “Archer—”

  “I need to sign these papers to get the money, yeah?” I held up my hands and backed away. My lungs were too tight. I couldn’t pull in any air. “I’ll figure it out when I’m back in Nevada. You’re right. I’ll turn my life around. Stop hanging out in bars and fucking whatever woman crosses my path.”

  “Archer, for god’s sake—” Dean started toward me.

  “Payment for services rendered, right?” I kept backing away. “I’m going to take off tonight. Say goodbye to Liv for me. And oh, hey, sorry for using your friend Kelsey, but I’ve done a few of those high-class women before. I knew she’d like slumming. And she was a great way to occupy my spare time while I was—”

  “Don’t.” A woman’s voice sliced through the thick air.

  Shit. Fucking fucking shit.

  Dean and I both turned. She stood in the kitchen doorway, her blue eyes blazing. Her name stuck in my throat.

  “Go away, Dean,” she said, her gaze on me.

  “No.”

  Kelsey cut her eyes to him, her face flushing with anger. “Go away.”

  Dean’s expression darkened. They stared each other down for a second before he backed off, pointing to the door. “I’m right outside.”

  “Stay there,” Kelsey ordered.

  When he was gone, she came toward me in three strides and slapped her hand across my face. Hard. Pain jolted through my jaw. I almost stumbled back.

  “That wasn’t for acting like an ass or because I think you really were just fucking with me,” she said coldly. “That was for saying you were using me to get to your brother. It was for lowering yourself to that level again.”

  My chest constricted. “What the hell are you talking about?”

  “I’m talking about the fact that it took my mother all of one afternoon to see in you what you haven’t seen your entire life,” Kelsey snapped. “You’re a survivor, Archer. You’ve been to hell and back. You’ve fought battles and lost, but you’ve also fought them and won. You were dealt a shitty hand, but you played it the only way you knew how. You made mistakes and you tried to do things right. You know more about loss than most people learn in a lifetime. So don’t you dare try and convince anyone, even your brother, that you’ve never been or ever will be anything but a user and a fuck-up.”

  I couldn’t speak.

  Kelsey backed away, her eyes still shooting blue sparks. “Do you think for one second I’d have started up with you if I thought that’s all you were? That I’d have surrendered? You know me better than that, Archer. You’re the only person in the whole fucking world who does.”

  She spun on her heel and stalked to the door. I stared after her, unable to move until I heard the door slam. Then I bolted toward the front porch.

  The second I ran outside, Dean’s hand shot out to close around my arm. Kelsey strode to her car through the rain, her spine stiff as metal.

  “What did you say to her?” Dean asked.

  I yanked my arm from his grip and ran after Kelsey just as she was getting in her car. “Kelsey!”

  She slammed the car door. The engine roared to life, the tires skidding on the wet gravel as she backed up.

  Goddammit.

  I got on my bike, shoving my helmet on. Curses split through my head. I hit the ignition and raced after her.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  KELSEY

  ANGER BURNED A HOLE INSIDE ME, hot and jagged. I gripped the steering wheel, struggling to see through the rain splashing on the windshield.

  Goddamned Archer West. Why couldn’t he see what was so obvious? I pressed on the accelerator, the tires squealing as I hit the road. I didn’t know where I was going. I didn’t want to go home because Archer would find me there.

  I drove through the residential neighborhood leading toward the university. Puddles of yellowish light shone on the wet pavement. I braked at a stop sign. A single headlight glowed through the darkness in my rearview mirror.

  Tension gnawed at my chest. The windshield wipers whipped back and forth. I hit the accelerator again. The car leapt forward. I wound through the streets circling the university, knowing I could lose Archer in the tangle. I pulled away from the north side of campus and started on a narrow road twisting into the mountains.

  My cell phone rang again and again. Archer, probably. Then Dean’s ringtone. Liv’s ringtone. I fumbled for the phone and turned it off, throwing it onto the passenger seat.

  I’ve done a few of those high-class women… she’d like slumming… I’m going to take off…

  Pressure flooded my veins. My own stupid voice echoed in my head.

  Stay here.

  He was still behind me. The single headlight burned through the wet night. I sped up and made a left turn. Pine and spruce trees grew in dense thickets on either side of the road. The only sound was the slap of the windshield wipers and tires.

  He was getting closer. Fear lit inside me. Too close. I’d let him get too close. For all my tough-chick, I-can-handle-this crap, I’d broken the cardinal, unspoken rule and let emotions get tangled up with insanely hot sex. I’d asked too many questions, given up too much of myself, taken on too much of his pain, liked him too much.

  I’d fucking surrendered.

  My foot sank onto the accelerator. The car slipped on the slick road, veering toward the center yellow line glowing in the headlights. I yanked on the steering wheel to straighten it. The tires skidded again. Fear stabbed me. I hit the brake to slow down, as the headlights reached a dark curve in the road.

  I swerved around it, trying to stay on track. My fear swelled into outright panic. The back tires skidded again. The front end of the car plunged off the right side of the road toward the guardrail. I gripped the wheel and just managed to bring the car to a screeching halt before the front end hit the rail.

  My breath sawed through the air. I threw the car into reverse to get back on the road. The tires spun in the mud. With a curse, I pushed harder on the accelerator, but only drove the tires in deeper. The engine roared. The single headlight of Archer’s motorcycle was rounding the turn.

  “Shit.”

  Though I didn’t know where the fuck I thought I was going, I hurried to get out of the car. I only knew I didn’t want to see him, didn’t want to face him. The rain hit me like pellets as I shoved out of the driver’s seat.

  “Goddammit.” My heeled sandals sank into the thick mud
. In seconds, my blue suit jacket and trousers were soaked.

  Archer brought his motorcycle to a sharp stop on the side of the road. He was a menacing shadow in the dark. My panic surfaced fresh. I stumbled backward, needing to get away from him.

  He yanked off his helmet. “Kelsey!”

  His voice was like thunder. Oh, god. He leapt off his bike and started toward me. Suddenly aware that he was the predator and I was the prey, I yanked my shoes out of the mud and turned to run.

  “Kelsey, stop!” Desperation ripped through the order.

  Driven by fear—of him, of myself, of knowing I had already given him everything and had nothing left—I ran, stumbling blindly through the pouring rain, tripping over wet branches and mud-clotted grass.

  I had no hope of outrunning him, but I tried. My lungs burned. I made it up the slope back to the road away from Archer. Just as I reached the pavement, he shouted my name again.

  Adrenaline burst through me. I picked up speed, running down the road, away from my car, away from the university, away from town, away from him. His boots pounded on the road.

  He grabbed me from behind, yanking me backward, his arms locking like steel bands around me. My ankle twisted with the impact. With a cry, I felt myself careening off balance. Archer didn’t loosen his hold, keeping me upright.

  “Don’t run,” he begged, his chest heaving against my back. “Please don’t run. I’m sorry. Jesus, Kelsey, I’m so fucking sorry.”

  Pain lanced through me. I struggled for air. Before I could break away from him, he lifted me into his arms and carried me back to the car. He yanked open the door and put me on the backseat. Rain dripped down my face and hair. My ankle throbbed.

  “Are you okay?” He crawled in after me, slamming the door to shut out the rain, his eyes bright and burning in the dark.

  I scrambled backward, some part of me still needing to get away from him, overwhelmed by his presence in the confines of the car.

  He reached up to flick on the light. Tension lined his features.

  “Kelsey.” He grabbed my arms, trying to pull me toward him. “Don’t look so scared. You’re shaking… come here. Please.”