Beyond Love: The Hutton Family Book 2

by Brooks, Abby

  Brooke returned her focus to her food while I worried about the utter destruction of what little reputation I had. Not that it mattered all that much. I really didn’t care what anyone at that school thought about me. I’d be out of here the second I turned eighteen and Todd Hudgins and all his stupid friends could rot.

  “What’s he look like?” Brooke asked, interrupting my thoughts. “Your mother’s boyfriend’s son? Is he hot?”

  That word didn’t do him justice. It was too simple. Too juvenile. Too pop culture. Wyatt Hutton had a strength and grace that transcended those things. His sex appeal was timeless and didn’t fit into a single label. Even his overprotective nature was starting to do it for me…when it wasn’t pissing me off instead.

  “Does it matter?” I asked.

  “It always matters.”

  Wyatt’s sea glass eyes came into my mind. His broad shoulders. His warm smile and the furrowed brow that ate away at it whenever we were together. “It’s not what’s on the outside that counts.”

  Brooke threw her head back, hooting in laughter and drawing the curious glances of a gaggle of girls a table over. “That means he’s gorgeous, but you don’t like him and won’t admit it.”

  I set out with the intention of hating Wyatt, but now, I couldn’t exactly explain how I felt about him. Hate was certainly the wrong word, but had things changed so much that I could say I liked him?

  “It doesn’t matter how good looking he is,” I replied. “He’s older than me.”

  “How much older?”

  I told Brooke his age and her eyebrows hit her hairline. “Yeah, just a little too old for us, huh?”

  In that moment, I wanted to hug her. My mom’s reaction to the difference in our ages had me questioning my sanity. The fact that Brooke also felt uncomfortable with Wyatt being twenty-one made me feel a little saner. A little more like I wasn’t an eighty-five-year-old woman trapped in a teenager’s body. Mom had me wondering if I was being a prude. Was a five-year age gap not really that big of a deal?

  It felt huge to me. All the things I had yet to experience, big things, life-altering things, they were old hat to Wyatt. Though, after last weekend, I could officially say I had been wasted. And that I had survived a massive hangover. My list of big, life-altering things I had yet to live through was shrinking down to only include experiences with boys.

  First kisses…

  First loves…

  Wyatt’s face came to mind and I wasn’t sure how I felt, having him connected to ideas like kissing and love.

  Chapter Nine

  Wyatt

  A month passed, and Harlow’s sixteenth birthday right along with it. The family celebrated the occasion with a huge cake in the shape of a car, lots of stories about life with her, and gifts galore. Lucas joined in via Skype, and Dad took the time to make sure she was aware how often she let him down.

  Every time someone had something good to say, every time she so much as smiled, he pointed out some failing of hers. Real or imagined, it didn’t matter. He railed at her for her art work. Her sensitivity. Her lack of interest in anything he thought would lead to a ‘proper job.’

  I had been afraid we would lose her for days after that, but for some reason, Dad’s comments didn’t seem to affect her. She had been lighthearted and happy and present in the several weeks since her birthday and it made my heart glad.

  Today, I watched her through the dining room window as she sat at the edge of the dock, her feet swinging in the water and her eyes on the setting sun. Her white-blonde hair shone with a light of its own and before I had too much time to think about it, I let myself outside and made my way to the dock.

  “Hey there,” she said, glancing up as I sat beside her. “To what do I owe this pleasure?”

  “I saw you out here and thought it looked like a nice place to spend an evening.”

  Harlow beamed. “It really is. If you sit still enough, you can hear so much in the silence between the waves.” She glanced at me, checking to see if I was going to verbally smack her down for saying something dumb.

  Instead, I smiled. “Sometimes I wish I could see the world the way you do.”

  “What’s that mean?” She wrinkled her brow and returned her focus to the water.

  “It means that I think you see more than the average person.” I shrugged. “I don’t know. Sounds a little dumb when I say it out loud.”

  “It doesn’t.” Harlow bumped a shoulder against mine. “It’s actually a relief to hear you say that because that’s exactly how I feel sometimes. Like I see how things are connected and I understand how people are feeling before they even figure it out for themselves.”

  “Yeah? Then how am I feeling right now?”

  Harlow took one look at me and spoke a truth I wasn’t prepared for. “Worried.”

  That one word hit me hard. I expected her to say I was happy, because that was how I felt. Or that she would choose to go with a joke, because that was how we liked to relate to each other. But worried? That one caught me off guard.

  “Worried about what?” I asked.

  “Well, maybe a little about me, since you came out here to sit next to me like a creeper.” She grinned as she gave me the joke I was expecting. “But, I don’t know, it seems like you’ve been off lately. Your smile doesn’t reach your eyes anymore, Wy-guy.”

  “I don’t know about all that,” I said, brushing off the statement before turning the focus back to her. “Anyway, I just wanted you to know I’ve been impressed with you.”

  “Right. Because I’m such an impressive specimen.”

  Self-degradation was a defense mechanism, one we’d all adopted, but Harlow had it down to a science.

  “That’s not true and you know it,” I said. She was good at everything she did. “I’m impressed because Dad was such a jerk to you on your birthday. And in the past, that would have hit you hard and the last place I would have found you was here, in your happy place.”

  “This is true.” Harlow bobbed her head in agreement.

  “So, what changed?”

  She gave me a quiet smile. “I realized I can’t please him. Never have. Never will. And somehow, that realization was freeing. I’ve spent so much of my life trying to trim off the parts of myself that he hates, and like, I basically would have to keep trimming until there was nothing left. If I stop trying to please him, I can just be myself. And it feels really good.”

  I stared at my sister, looking for something uplifting to say while anger crept through my veins. Harlow was a good person, sensitive and loyal, the kind of girl who would give up something she loved just to make someone else happy. The fact that Dad refused to see her for what she was infuriated me. “He’s really not worth your time,” I said.

  “I’m starting to realize that. It’s just…you and he are so close. And Lucas always tells stories about how he used to be…you know, before he started drinking. Part of me wishes I could know him like you guys do. The other part is glad you don’t know him the way I do.”

  Harlow thought I was close to Dad? How could she think that? The answer slapped me in the face before I was done asking myself the question. Thanks to our little secret, I was probably the closest one to him, the one who knew him better than anyone else in our family. The realization brought a surge of anger—at him, at myself, at Madeline and Kara—and I did my best to hide it from Harlow.

  “Sometimes,” I murmured, “it feels like the man he is murdered the man he used to be. I don’t want him to turn his focus on anyone else.” Because I couldn’t stand to lose another family member the way I lost my dad.

  “And you take the brunt of it so we don’t have to.”

  I shrugged and Harlow continued.

  “Maybe that’s why your smile doesn’t reach your eyes anymore. Maybe he’s killing you, the same way he killed himself.”

  I broke eye contact and cleared my throat, before wrapping an arm around my sister’s shoulder. “I’m just glad to see you feeling confident,
” I said before making up some excuse about needing to run an errand and wandering back to the house.

  Dad wasn’t home.

  And I knew where he was.

  Today was Kara’s seventeenth birthday, and while he brought nothing but condescension to Harlow’s party, he had a slew of gifts for another man’s daughter. With Harlow’s words swimming through my mind—maybe he’s killing you, the same way he killed himself—I swiped my keys off the counter and drove to Madeline’s condo.

  I couldn’t keep doing this. I couldn’t keep his secrets from our family. I couldn’t fund his affair, finding more and more creative ways to hide the missing money. If I was going to stay true to myself, if I was going to survive, I needed to end our little arrangement.

  As I drove, a battle waged inside me. My conscious versus his sneaky words.

  If this secret ever comes out, it will ruin this family.

  Your mother needs The Hut, and without the family, The Hut will die.

  The family is more important than your morals.

  If you tell them what we’ve been doing, you’ll lose them all.

  By the time I pulled to a stop in front of the condo, I was so twisted up, I didn’t know what to do. The urge to push through the front door and tell him I was done was so strong, I couldn’t catch my breath. My hands were fists. My jaw was tight. None of this anger felt natural to me. I had no experience with it, and therefore, had no idea what to actually do with it. My thoughts were tangled and filled with thorns, preparing to tell Dad he could stuff his lies into his whisky and drown in it.

  It was at that exact moment that the front door swung open and Kara stepped out. She stopped in her tracks when her eyes fell on mine, then laughed as she lowered herself to sit on the front step. “Ahhh. If it isn’t my favorite stalker,” she said as I got out of the car. “Come here to wish me a happy birthday?”

  “Not exactly.” I shrugged and shoved my hands into my back pockets.

  She bobbed her head then patted the spot beside her. “Keep me company? Our parents are…uh…celebrating.”

  Of course they were. Because what else could you do on a child’s birthday but kick her out of the house. Though, one look at Kara confirmed she was no child…

  I refused to finish that thought. It was dangerous to think that way, especially given how beautiful she looked that night.

  “I’m sorry about them,” I said as I closed the distance between us, each step making me more and more aware of how much I wanted to talk to her. She’d had my number for a month now and sent the odd text here or there, random things about school or memes she found funny. Those conversations would be followed by long stretches of silence and, strangely enough, I wished she would text more. Initiating the contact myself was out of the question. The girl was too young.

  “Don’t apologize for them.” Kara waved toward the door. “I’m used to that kind of BS. Even the things that are about me, aren’t actually about me.” She smirked and I sat, keeping a fair amount of space between us. “Why are you here, big guy?”

  I let out a long breath, and before I knew what was happening, I told her everything. I explained my sister and her tumultuous relationship with our dad. I explained how angry I was on behalf of my mom and siblings, how I wasn’t built for that kind of constant lying and manipulation. The only thing I didn’t explain was how good it felt to sit next to her.

  “I came here tonight to tell him to go fuck himself. That I was done keeping his secret.”

  Kara wrapped her arms around her torso, her hands gripping her biceps while her elbows rested on her knees. “And yet, he’s in there and you’re out here.” She pursed her lips. “Funny.”

  I prickled at the challenge in her statement and sighed. She was right. My grand plan to confront my father had stalled out right here on her front steps.

  “See,” she said. “That’s why I’m leaving as soon as I hit eighteen.”

  Her words reminded me of Caleb, and then Eli who promised the same thing. “Why’s that?” I asked, while I wondered if she and I had more in common than I cared to admit.

  “I’ve got money and big dreams. I’m not sticking around to let my mom and her craziness keep on ruining my life.”

  “What kind of big dreams?”

  Kara ran a hand through her hair and gathered it over her shoulder. “Don’t laugh at me?”

  “I would never laugh at a person for trying to make a better life for themselves.” Especially when that someone is you, I thought but didn’t say.

  “I make jewelry,” Kara began, then explained her obsession with taking stones and metal and turning them into something beautiful. “I want to get out of the Keys and open a business, selling the things I make…” She trailed off, fear of judgement dancing in her eyes.

  She sounded so naïve. So unaware of herself and the world. I resisted the urge to say that to her, though. It was her birthday. For as much as I resented her for getting all the attention Harlow deserved, it wasn’t lost on me that Kara was sitting outside on the front stoop, alone as far as the people inside knew. Maybe she didn’t get any more from Burke Hutton than the rest of us, but compared to what she got from her mom, it was enough.

  I found myself feeling grateful for my mom and my siblings, for the support they offered me. I also found myself wanting to be that for Kara, though she felt less and less like a little sister and more and more like…

  Stop it. Stop it right now. You can’t finish that thought with your integrity intact.

  She was a child and I was a man and if I did what I came here to do, I wouldn’t be seeing her anymore. And so, we sat in silence as the sun began its slow-motion trek toward the horizon. The sky caught fire. It reflected in Kara’s eyes and she looked up and caught me staring.

  “You don’t have to stick around, you know.” She fiddled with the hem of her shorts. “I’m a big girl. I can take care of myself.”

  She stared at me, her eyes wide and innocent. She looked young. And alone. And so beautiful I couldn’t think straight. “I’m sure you can,” I replied, glancing away. “But no one should have to spend their birthday by themselves.” An idea struck me and I spoke before I had time to think better of it. “We don’t have to sit out here on the step, you know. You feel like going somewhere? We can celebrate in style…” I felt foolish as I offered the suggestion, but that faded as gratitude warmed Kara’s eyes.

  “That’s very sweet of you,” she said, waving as a pair of headlights swung around the corner. “But I already have plans.”

  I had a dark thought. One about that boy at the party. The one who spiked her drink. If that car pulled up with a guy behind the wheel, I didn’t think I could let her go with him. Which was ridiculous. Who was I to decide what she could and couldn’t do?

  A Volkswagen Beetle pulled up and a blonde poked her head out the open window. “Hey sweet birthday girl! You ready for a torrid night of debauchery and bad decisions?”

  Kara lifted a hand in greeting. “Always!” she called to her friend as she stood, then paused to bend down and kiss me on the cheek. “Thanks for keeping me company, big guy” she said with a smile that lit up her whole face. “Truly.”

  “Any time,” I replied then watched as she bounded down the steps and got in the car.

  Chapter Ten

  Kara

  Brooke gave me a wild look as I lowered myself into the passenger seat. Her gaze darted over my shoulder to land on Wyatt who still stood on the front steps, then came right back to me. I braced myself for the incoming barrage of questions and my best friend did not disappoint.

  She flicked on her indicator and then just sat there, staring at me expectantly. “That’s him, isn’t it? Your mother’s boyfriend’s son? And for fucks sake, what’s his name because that’s a mouthful and we’re going to be talking about him a lot.”

  “Wyatt,” I murmured. “His name is Wyatt and yeah, that’s him.” And if I had anything to say about it, we wouldn’t be talking about him at all. A
fter surviving that charged atmosphere and my constant desire to touch him, I needed time to get my thoughts in order before handing them to Brooke.

  She turned to me with wide eyes. “What’s he doing at your house?”

  I shrugged off the question. “Since it’s my birthday, I humbly request that we please talk about something else. Any other topic would be perfectly acceptable.”

  “Nope.” Brooke shook her head again as she finally navigated onto the street. “I’m sorry. We absolutely cannot talk about anything other than that man. He is officially the only thing I want to discuss with you for the rest of the night.”

  “It’s going to be a quiet night then.” The evening with Wyatt had unnerved me. He seemed so genuine. So confused as to how to deal with Burke.

  He also smelled very good and every time I looked into his eyes, it was more and more difficult to look away. I fell into their depths, drowning in feelings and sensations I didn’t understand. I spent the whole time fighting the urge to close the distance between us. To take his hand and rub my fingers along the rough edges of his knuckles. My gaze kept falling to his lips and I’d find myself wondering how they would taste. Of all the possible first kisses, having mine come from Wyatt Hutton suddenly seemed like a fantastic turn of events.

  “Why was he there?” Brooke glanced my way before giving her attention back to her driving. “Does he have a crush on you? Oh my God, he does. And I know I said he was too old, and really, he is, but look at him! There has to be some kind of clause in the rules for exceptional hotness, right?”

  For a split second, I allowed myself to entertain the thought of a clause that made the difference in our ages less of a problem. A smile tugged at my lips, but I swallowed it away, reminding myself that Wyatt and I really didn’t get along. Not at all. Whatever that was tonight was an anomaly.