The End of Everything - Garner-Willoughby Brothers Duet Book Two
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The End of Everything
Garner-Willoughby Brothers Duet — Book Two
Blaire Broderick
Contents
Description
A Note From the Author
Prologue
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Epilogue
The Promise of Everything Sneak Peek
About the Author
Acknowledgments
COPYRIGHT 2018 PRISM HEART PRESS
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
COVER DESIGN © 2018 Louisa Maggio
EDITING: Booktique Editing
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Description
Anomaly.
Walking contradiction.
Unapologetically complicated.
The man standing before me says he knows my husband, but I’ve never seen him in my life.
He says he’s here to help me, but there are still too many unanswered questions, too many words left unspoken, and too much self-loathing in that intense, familiar gaze that burns into mine.
Nevertheless, I let him in.
Maybe I shouldn’t, but I do.
And then life, as I know it, begins to unravel in ways I never could have anticipated.
A Note From the Author
I previously wrote these books under the name Coco Jordan/Gia DeLuca. If you read those books, you have read these books.
“I fell in love with her courage, her sincerity, and her flaming self-respect. And it's these things I'd believe in, even if the whole world indulged in wild suspicions that she wasn't all she should be. I love her and it is the beginning of everything.”
― F. Scott Fitzgerald
Prologue
JULIAN
Twenty-four years. Twenty-four painfully short years. I’d have given anything for a lifetime with her, but certain things were beyond my control. I couldn’t control the fact that just as my life was finally given meaning, it was taken away, I couldn’t control the fact that I met the love of my life months before I was to take my very last breath, and I couldn’t control the fact that I had to leave her broken-hearted and devastated picking up the pieces of our shattered dreams.
I knew the day would come when I would no longer be able to kiss her sweet lips, drink in the scent of her soft skin, or feel the way her hair slipped so gently between my fingertips. The idea of Evie waking up each day with no one to kiss her good morning or tell her how beautiful she looked in the shimmering sunlight weighed so heavy on my heart that I knew what I needed to do.
There was only one man who could love her the way I did—uncompromising, unconditionally, and unrelenting. And there was only one man who was worthy of Evie’s love. So, I did what a dying man does when he knows his days are numbered—I contacted my older brother and asked him for a favor.
1
JUDE
“Wh-who are you?” she stammered, red-faced and puffy-eyed as she finger-combed her dark, disheveled hair into place.
I stuffed the paper into my leather jacket suddenly realizing Julian had never told her about me before. Her bleary-eyed gaze washed over me as she clutched her chest. We looked eerily alike, my brother and I, and I could only imagine how difficult it was for her to see me standing before her the night of his funeral.
“I’m Jude,” I said. “Jude Garner-Willoughby.”
I raked my fingers through my chocolate brown hair, the very same hair I shared with my younger brother and softened my hazel eyes in her direction.
Evie stood in silence as she braced herself against her door. “I’m sorry. Are you a cousin or something?”
“Older brother,” I said. “May I come in?”
She swung the door wide open and motioned toward the living room of her humble bungalow. Calling it a fixer-upper would’ve been giving it too much credit, but it was homey. Much cozier than the impenetrable brick walls of the Garner-Willoughby manse, that was for sure.
My heavy shoes clomped on the rustic wood floors as I shuffled my way to the living room and sat on the sofa. This was going to be so fucking awkward.
“You don’t have anything to drink, do you?” I asked. “Beer? Liquor?”
She narrowed her eyes at me and hesitated before saying, “Wine. I have some wine.”
“Wine works,” I said, taking a deep breath and leaning back onto the cushy leather. The entire car ride from California to Kansas gave me plenty of thinking time but being face to face with my brother’s grieving widow changed everything I thought I knew, everything I thought I should say.
She returned with two wine goblets filled to the brim with red wine.
“I’m normally not a big drinker,” I said as I took a goblet out of her hand and proceeded to down it one gulp at a time. “I swear.”
“Mmm hmm,” she said softly, clearly unconvinced. “It’s okay. I needed a drink, too.”
“Honest,” I said, setting the empty goblet on the coffee table. My eyes landed on a pair of my brother’s shoes resting next to the front door perfectly aligned as if a ghost were standing in them. “This is weird for me being back here, being in this town.”
She nodded as she slowly sipped her wine and eyed me, staring like I was a ghost.
“I’m sorry,” she said, breaking her silence. “It�
�s just… I didn’t know he had a brother.”
“Really? He never mentioned me?”
“Nope,” she said, her gaze transfixed on me as if she were seeing an apparition of her late husband. “He pretty much implied he was an only child. Or I guess I just assumed.”
I laughed, cocking my head to the side. “I guess I deserve that. I get it.”
“Well, I don’t get it,” she huffed. “I’d love if you could fill me in.”
“Evie,” I said, offering her a gentle smile. “There’s so much more than I could ever begin to tell you. Our family is so complicated, more than you could ever begin to imagine.”
“I want to know everything,” she demanded, turning her entire body toward me.
“There’s a reason he didn’t tell you everything,” I said. “I should probably respect his wishes, don’t you think? Maybe he didn’t tell you things as his way of protecting you.”
“Maybe,” she said, shrinking back. She turned her face as if to hide the tears that were pooling in her ocean-blue eyes. “Guess I’ll never know.”
I scooted closer to her, instinctively wanting to put my arm around her, and then stopped. In the quiet stillness of that house, we were just two perfect strangers brought together by tragedy.
She wiped her eyes. “So, what do you want from me, Jude? Because I’m pretty sure I don’t have any money if that’s what you’re after. Your mother has probably already wiped out all the bank accounts.”
“Oh, I don’t want any money,” I said, laughing at her sudden directness. I placed my hand on my chest, drawing an ‘X.’ “Swear.”
“Then what is it?”
“Julian asked me to be here,” I said. “He sent me a letter and asked me to take care of you should anything happen to him.”
She drew her legs up onto the sofa, wrapping one arm around them as she chewed on the nails of her free hand. Her eyes focused on a random book lying on the coffee table. “So, let me get this straight. Julian didn’t talk about you. Didn’t tell me you existed. But he wants you to take care of me? Yeah. Right. Makes perfect sense.”
I laughed at the absurdity of the situation knowing full well there was no way to get around how completely insane this sounded. “I know it seems crazy, but I’ve got the letter right here.” I patted the left breast pocket of my jacket.
“Let me see it.” She reached her hand out.
“No can do. Julian asked me not to show you.”
She rolled her eyes, still not buying any of it.
“When did you move out of Haverford?” she asked. If it made her feel better to fish for information, I was going to be an open book. I just wasn’t going to show her the letter. Not yet.
“When I was eighteen,” I began, “I left to go to UC Davis. Never came back.”
“How come?”
“Would you want to come back to Haverford if you didn’t have to?”
“My family’s here.” She shrugged. “It’s not that bad.”
“Well, when your family is like mine,” I said, “sometimes it’s not worth coming back for.”
“So, you just abandoned your sickly younger brother? Nice,” she said, her voice rampant with much-deserved sarcasm.
“Julian was sixteen when I left. He wasn’t a kid. He could fend for himself. Plus, I figured he’d be out of the house in two years,” I said, justifying my actions. “Unfortunately, he didn’t take it that well and stopped talking to me.”
“Can’t say I blame him. Pretty shitty thing to do.” Evie’s face twisted into a scowl as she sipped her wine. “But then again, can’t say I blame you for wanting to get away from Caroline.”
“Good old Caroline,” I said. She nailed it. I stretched my hands behind my head and settled in. “How’s that crazy broad doing these days?”
“She hates me,” Evie said. “That’s about all I know. She thinks I married Julian because I thought I was going to inherit money. Couldn’t be further from the truth.”
“Yeah, she is obsessed with her money,” I said. “That, and control.”
“And your dad lets her call the shots,” she continued, starting a mini rant. “He doesn’t even say anything, just lets her act like some crazy person.” Evie began to tremble as if the mere mention of my mother sent her blood boiling.
“Do you think she’d listen to him?” I asked. “He used to try, believe me. He just got tired of always losing those battles. Somewhere along the line, he just stopped fighting.”
Evie shook her head. “It blows my mind that he’d stay with her all this time.”
“All the money is Garner money,” I said, “not Willoughby money. He’d be left with nothing. He loves material things too much to let that happen. Have you ever seen the man’s car collection?”
She nodded as a faint smile crossed her full lips. It disappeared as quickly as it had arrived as if I’d briefly reminded her of something.
An awkward silence filled the space between us until Evie got up and grabbed our empty wine goblets. Her body swayed a bit, and she had to lean over and grab the arm of the sofa.
“Whoa,” she said as she steadied herself.
“Need help?” I asked as I began to get up.
“No, it’s okay,” she assured me, bringing herself into an upright position before swaying her way to the kitchen. Running water and clinking glass told me she was rinsing the goblets. Perhaps she needed to step away from me for a bit.
A stack of leather-bound books rested neatly on top of the coffee table, and I knew they were Julian’s. I grabbed the top one and began thumbing through it reading the very same pages my brother had once read until Evie came back into the room.
“This was one of his favorite books as a kid,” I said, shutting the cover and rubbing the palm of my hand over the embossed title, A Wrinkle in Time.
She smiled as she sat back down next to me.
“I taught him how to read,” I said with a bittersweet smile. Evie said nothing as she watched me put the book right back where I’d found it. “This is awkward, but do you mind if I stay here tonight? I’ve been driving all day, and I’m spent. I could sleep on the couch.”
“You’re Julian’s brother,” she said without pause. “Of course, it’s okay.”
She stood up shuffling her way to a hall closet and returning with a stack of clean linens and a pillow and setting them neatly on the edge of the couch.
Evie glanced at the watch on her wrist, her eyes fatigued and swollen. “I hope you don’t mind. I’m going to go to bed now. It’s been a very long day.”
“Of course,” I said.
“Good night, Jude,” she said, offering the smallest half-smile I’d ever seen.
“Evie,” I called after her as she walked down the hall.
“Yeah?”
“Thanks for letting me crash here tonight.”
“That’s what family does.”
2
EVIE
A light rapping on my door woke me that morning.
“Evie?” a man’s voice called from the other side of the door. It was him. I’d completely forgotten for a moment that there was a strange man staying in my house.
I pried my sore, swollen eyelids apart, and my eyes burned like fire the second the sun hit them. I attempted to read the alarm clock on the nightstand, but my blurry vision would only make out the first number. A seven.
“Evie?” he called again, knocking again.
I’d hoped to sleep in that day. The more time I spent dreaming, the less time I’d spend mourning Julian, and the less hours I had to spend in a world without him, the better.
I dragged myself out from beneath the warm covers and shuffled to the door pulling it open. “Yes?”
We were mere inches apart, Jude and me, and the way the top of my head lined perfectly with his mouth was nearly identical to the way I lined up with Julian. Jude’s chocolate brown hair was neatly combed over, parted on the side the way Julian always did his.
“Wanna go out for breakfas
t?” he asked, unusually chipper for someone up so early. “I’m starving. My treat.”
“Is that why you’re knocking on my door at seven in the morning?” I groaned.
“Yeah,” he said, flashing a smile full of perfect, straight white teeth that were once again identical to Julian’s. “Your cupboards are empty. Hope you don’t mind that I already checked.”
I stared at his mouth as he spoke watching his full lips move and briefly wondering if kissing them would feel like kissing Julian.
“Why are you looking at me like that?”
“Sorry, sorry,” I said, waving him off. “Just thinking.”
“I probably remind you of him, huh,” Jude said, his face twisting into a painful wince. He placed his hands on his hips and took a step back. “I’m sorry. It must be hard for you.”
I shrugged and nodded fighting back another wave of teary eyes. The tears seemed to come and go at random intervals set off by just about anything that remotely reminded me of him.
Jude changed the subject. “You look hungry. Let’s go.”