by Sarah Hegger
It took Eric a moment to realize it, and then it knocked him for a loop. Brett was apprehensive. The man was really asking for a job. “Why are you asking me? You have to know that Blythe told me what you did.”
“I guessed as much.” Brett pulled a face. An expression perilously close to regret ghosted over his hard features. “Blythe sure did take to you, and you took to her, which is why I’m coming to you.”
“I don’t follow.”
“I don’t need to tell you how many kinds of screwed up my family is. With Blythe gone that’s only going to get worse.” Brett shrugged. “I’m the oldest, and up until now I’ve been doing a damn fine job of avoiding that reality. They’re fucked up, but they’re my responsibility.”
Eric tried to read Brett. His instinct screamed that the man standing in front of him was not the same one who’d been hauled away by four policemen. Still, the legend of Brett Barrows lived large and bright in Ghost Falls history. “You’re saying you’re going straight.”
“I’m saying I’m going straight.” Brett nodded. “And the rest of my brothers with me.” He jerked his thumb in the direction Ray and his friends had disappeared. “Looks like you could do with a couple more men as well. You let me bring Bo and Becker up here, and I’ll get them to work.”
Eric couldn’t help it; he laughed. “They’re worse than Barron.”
“Nah.” Brett shook his head. “Barron is a mean piece of shit. Bo and Becker are more just lazy.” He smirked. “But they’re more scared of me than they are of work. If I tell them to work, they’ll ask me how hard.”
Eric wished like hell he could share their conversation with Blythe. “What makes you think I would trust you? Especially after what you did to Blythe.”
Brett stilled, and his face hardened.
Eric braced.
“You’re a fair man, Evans,” he said after a while. “And that’s why I’m gonna tell you this. If you were anyone else, I’d tell you to fuck off, and then take you apart.”
Eric believed him, but that didn’t mean he was going to back down. “Tell me what?”
“What I did to Blythe.” Brett rubbed his shaved head. “I’ve done some fucked up shit in my time, but that ranks right up there with the worst. I have to fix things with her before she’ll see me, and I get that.”
“I’m not sure why you think I’d believe you.” Eric didn’t say it as a challenge. He genuinely didn’t get it. His interactions with Brett before Brett went to prison had been limited.
“You don’t judge,” Brett said. “I know what they used to say about my sister. I also knew it was bullshit. You weren’t like those other assholes. You stayed around long enough to find out the truth.”
He hesitated for a moment, and then went with his gut. “Do you have any construction experience or skills?”
“No.” Brett shook his head. “But Bo and Becker do. I thought I could work security. And it looks to me like you could do with a bit of extra security.”
He had no reason to trust Brett, and about four hundred reasons he shouldn’t, but the man in front of him was not the man he remembered. All some people needed was a second chance. “See Cooper inside about your salary. You can start tomorrow.”
“I can start tonight,” Brett said. “That asshole has trouble on his mind, and he won’t wait.”
Eric nodded, still amazed at what had just happened.
“You won’t regret this, Eric.” Brett stepped away from the truck.
Eric met his gaze. “I better not, Brett.”
Chapter Fourteen
Wednesday Blythe had a new client to assess. Her business was growing at a very satisfying rate. With moving into the apartment and the associated expenses, it would still be a while before she could breathe freely, but one step at a time.
With Pippa, Bella and Liz, that made four new clients that week. Living with Will was proving a blessing as they shared taking care of Kim. Next year when he finally had enough money to start college, Blythe would have to make another plan or revise her schedule.
That was a problem for another day.
A smile firmly on her face, she walked through to reception.
A tall, lean man in his fifties, already in gym shorts and a T-shirt, stood beside the desk.
From behind him Randy gave her the nod, confirming this was the new client.
“Chase Gunning?” She held out her hand. “I’m Blythe.”
Chase looked taken aback but recovered and shook her hand. The smile he gave her nudged the too warm limit. “Hi. I asked around town for the best trainer, and your name came up.”
“I’m flattered.” Blythe kept it cool and professional. She had male clients, and none of them were a problem, but every now and again she had to remind someone that personal trainer wasn’t a synonym for hooker. “Why don’t we talk about your fitness goals?”
“I’ve been working with a trainer in Denver for a while, but I’ll be spending a lot more time in Ghost Falls in the future.”
“That makes this easier.” Blythe led Chase into the gym.
After an hour session Chase signed with her for twenty more sessions. She liked him.
He listened to her, did as she said and worked hard. He was also in great shape.
She stood by the reception desk as Chase left the gym and waved him goodbye.
Randy jerked his chin. “Looks like you slayed another one.”
“Nah.” There had been that certain look in Chase’s eye from time to time, but it had faded as the session wore on. As long as he kept it professional, they could work together.
Randy checked Chase’s membership and raised his brow. “Platinum card. You should go for it.”
“I’m not looking for that.” Blythe ignored the pang Randy’s suggestion caused. One day she would be ready to date someone else, but that for sure wasn’t today. “And anyway, what does his platinum card have to do with whether I date him or not?”
Rolling his eyes, Randy leaned on the desk. “You know what your problem is?”
“I’m sure you’re about to tell me.” She leaned in to Randy.
“You’re a romantic,” Randy said. “And that makes it an awful waste of your hotness.”
She couldn’t wait to hear this. Randy had some good theories. “Meaning?”
“Meaning, someone who looks like you could get herself a nice little gig as arm candy.” Randy gave her a lascivious wink.
“Wow.” Blythe widened her eyes. “Really? You really think I could?”
Randy snorted. “But you are a romantic. You’d marry some loser because you love him and spend your life making excuses for him.”
“Nope. I’m a hardened gold digger.” Blythe hid her grimace and walked back to her office. Ouch! Randy had perfectly described her mother.
Carly, and God alone knew how, still loved Pat. When Pat came around, Carly walked straight into his arms. Then when he inevitably left again, she disappeared back into a bottle.
All that Blythe had done to establish her independence was about changing her script and not following along with Carly’s. Breaking up with Eric had been a similar thing. She wanted more for herself. She wanted it all, and there was no reason to settle. Blythe didn’t need to be Carly.
The rest of her day was full, and it was late before she left the gym. She checked on Will. He had picked up Kim, and all was good at home.
The gym sat in the divide between the good part of town and the bad. She had parked in clear view of the door, and Randy was watching from inside.
“Hey, bitch!” Barron’s voice made her jump.
Concealed by the shadows to the side of the door, he slouched against the wall.
Blythe spun and headed back for the gym. The bruise from their last encounter had faded, and she wasn’t keen to add another one to it.
“You don’t
need to run.” Barron stepped into the light and raised his arms to his side. “I’m not coming near you.”
Blythe stopped with her hand on the door. She could get inside before he came near her. Curiosity kept her there. Barron wouldn’t be here without a reason. “What do you want?”
“I’m here to do you a favor.” Barron smirked. “I don’t know why I bother with your ungrateful ass, but I guess I’m just that kind of person.”
Refusing to even engage that errant piece of crap, Blythe waited.
Barron stopped about five feet from her. His left eye was swollen almost shut. A dark purple bruise surrounded it.
“This is your warning.” Barron pointed to his black eye. “Brett did this to me, and he’s coming for you, Blythe. He’s coming for you, and he’s a lot fucking madder at you than he was at me.”
* * * *
Eric met Miranda at a small Italian restaurant close to his office. She had called after his return from site. On the verge of turning her down, he had paused and considered that there really was no reason to turn her down.
Not anymore.
Miranda arrived ten minutes late, looking fantastic in a clingy black dress as she wound her way through the tables toward him. He was willing to bet she was late on purpose.
Miranda was a woman who made an entrance. She knew her value and how that dress clung to every toned curve of her body.
“Hi.” He stood to greet her.
She leaned forward in a waft of exotic perfume and pressed a cool cheek to his. “Nice to see you.”
“And you.” Eric took his seat again. “Wine?”
“Please?” She flashed him her brilliant smile. “I wasn’t sure you’d accept my invitation.”
Neither had he been. He kept it light. “You know how work can get.”
“Indeed I do.” She sipped her wine and murmured her approval. Her dark eyes gleamed at him in the subdued light. “But I sense that is not the only reason you might have turned me down.”
That would teach him to underestimate a woman like Miranda. “Ah, no. Until recently, there was a…situation.” He couldn’t even describe his thing with Blythe as a relationship.
“Sounds complicated.” Miranda chuckled, a plush velvet huskiness that made a man wonder what noises she’d make in his bed.
A detached part of him wondered if she practiced that laugh. At the very least she knew its impact and employed it. It had been a long time since he’d dated a woman like Miranda. Smart, determined and assertive, Miranda valued herself and demanded the same from any man in her life.
When he had lived in Denver full time, the Mirandas of the world had been his preferred date. If asked, he would still have said the same, which did not explain why he’d been with Blythe since he’d moved back to Ghost Falls.
Did Blythe know they had been exclusive? Even more disturbing was the thought that she might not have thought so and acted on that. A surge of burning jealousy shot through him. Then reason prevailed. Blythe was a one man at a time woman. There had been occasions when she had been seeing someone else. She had either broken that off and been with him or turned him down. Come to think of it, he couldn’t remember when Blythe had ever turned him down in favor of the other guy. Fuck! He’d known all along how she felt about him. At worst, he’d taken advantage of it, and at best remained willfully unaware. He managed a smile for Miranda. “It was complicated.”
“Was?” She raised one sculpted brow. “As in over.”
It shouldn’t tear into him to reply, but it did. Somehow he forced the word out. “Yes.”
“Good.” Miranda smiled at him, slow and sultry. “Then there’s no reason you and I can’t get to know each other a bit better.”
Chapter Fifteen
Every Thursday night, Blythe took Kim with her to St. Peters to help out at the soup kitchen. She wanted Kim to grow up with a commitment to give back. Will wasn’t working, so he joined them.
Reverend Michael greeted them as they walked in. He roped Will into helping him set out tables and chairs.
Blythe went into the kitchen with Kim.
The woman running the kitchen waved her over to vegetable preparation.
Behind a mountain of potatoes and carrots, Bella and Liz worked their vegetable peelers.
They looked up when they saw her.
Blythe felt the old tension creep over her. Their discussion the other day was still so fresh she didn’t entirely trust it.
“Blythe.” Bella managed a shy smile. “I didn’t realize you volunteered here.”
“Every Thursday night.” She lifted Kim onto the table. “My family owes a lot to this church.”
“Normally we do Wednesdays,” Liz said and handed Kim a peeled carrot. “Reverend Michael tells us you also do an exercise class here.”
“That’s right.” Blythe picked up a potato.
Bella’s smile widened. “It seems there really is an entire book of stuff I don’t know about you.”
Not knowing what that meant, Blythe returned her smile. “I could probably say the same.”
“Probably not.” Bella pulled a face. “My life has always been pretty much an open book.” She held her hand out to Kim. “Hi, I’m Bella.”
“I’m Kim.” Kim crunched on her carrot. “I’m four.”
“Four?” Bella made a show of thinking that over. “Are you sure, because I would have said six or seven?”
“That’s because I’m tall for my age,” Kim assured her.
They worked in silence for a bit.
Liz lasted about ten minutes before the silence got to her, and she chattered. Blythe half listened to her conversation with Bella. They were good friends and sometimes spoke in the sort of code that women who were close did. She didn’t mind that she didn’t understand everything they spoke about, because they still made her feel included in the conversation.
Kim got a bit bored, so Blythe showed her how to peel, keeping a sharp eye on little fingers. The way Kim mangled her potato meant it was probably never going to hit anyone’s pot, but it did keep her happy.
Bella gave her with a sweet smile and said, “An entire book of things.”
Liz gestured with her knife. “Isn’t that your brother?”
Will stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the dining room. He motioned her.
“You better go and see what he wants,” Bella said. “He looks upset.”
Blythe reached to take Kim off the table.
“You can leave her here if you like,” Bella said. “I can keep an eye on her.”
Kim grinned at her as if she liked Bella’s idea a whole lot better
Drying her damp hands on a cloth, Blythe joined Will. “Everything okay?”
“Not really.” Will glanced behind him. “I want to show you something…someone. But they haven’t seen me or you yet.”
She followed him behind some partitions stacked close to the wall. From there, they could see the dining room and the people gathering to eat.
“There.” Will pointed to a table beside the far window. “Sitting with his back to the window.”
A homeless man sat with his arms braced on the table. Blythe didn’t see anything extraordinary about him. He wore a threadbare maroon woolen cap with a team logo on the front. Dirt and age had smudged it beyond recognition. His dark coat hung heavy on his slimmer frame. At first glance, she put him at mid forties, but a closer look placed him as much younger. Dirty and wearing the lines of fatigue earned by living on your wits, he couldn’t be much older than her.
The man looked up to talk to someone opposite him, and Blythe got it. She grabbed the partitions for support and stared. “It can’t be.”
“Is it him?” Will pressed closer to her. “It is Blake, isn’t it?”
Blake, the brother closest to her in age, only a year younger. Gentle
, sweet Blake with his big heart and his passion for drawing animals. She still had a stack of faded sketches he’d made for her when they were younger. “What’s he doing here?”
“We know why he’s here,” Will said. “He must be homeless.”
Blake had left five years earlier to pursue his dream of being an artist. She wanted to march over there and demand to know what happened. She wanted to run over there and give him a hug. A bath first, but then a hug. She wanted to slip out the back of the kitchen and pretend she hadn’t seen him.
“What are we going to do?”
The “we” added a greater level of complexity. She had Will and Kim to think of. True, Blake had been her favorite brother before Will was born, but he was still a Barrows and he was as capable of dishonesty and nastiness as the rest of them.
But he was still her brother. “I’m going to talk to him.”
“Not alone, you’re not.” Will fell in behind her.
Will had also noticed the memento Barron had left on her cheek and wasn’t happy about it. Always one to take too much on his young shoulders, Will had decided he could have somehow prevented it from happening. Blythe was happy Will hadn’t been there. Barron would have been a lot worse with Will.
Will reminded her a bit of Blake, in his gentle soul. Blake had been her favorite brother growing up, but now that place in her heart he shared with Will. As much as she appreciated Will’s support, it also made her angry that he’d had to grow up so much faster than he should. “He’s not like the others. I’ll be fine.”
“I’m coming with you.” Will’s jaw firmed. Will also wanted her to press charges against Barron. Maybe there was more Carly in her than she had realized, but she didn’t want to go that way. She wanted to get on with her life. At the same time, she’d promised Will if Barron came near her again, she would file those charges.
Yet, here she was, about to open the door on another brother entering her new life.
They approached the table, other people watching them as they went.
