by J. S. Scott
“It’s my life!”
“You’re our brother. You think Micah and I can actually be happy when we know you’re on the other side of the country trying to kill yourself? Do you know how hard it was for me and Micah when you were injured, sitting in the hospital night after night, not sure whether you were going to live or die?”
I heard Julian’s voice crack with anguish, and it was the most emotion I’d ever seen out of him in my entire life. “I’m a lost cause, Julian. Just live with it and move on.”
Honestly, I wished neither one of them would rush to California every time I did something stupid. It left me torn, and I’d hoped that Micah would finally just give up. He hadn’t. He’d just brought Julian in for backup.
“Not happening,” Julian answered stubbornly. “We aren’t giving up on you, Xander. Not ever. So live with that. We already lost Mom and Dad, and that’s as much as Micah and I can handle.”
The mention of my parents just made me want a fix, or a very large bottle of whiskey. But I had to admit that Julian’s guilt trip was getting to me. Hell, the last thing I wanted was to be responsible for making either of my brothers miserable. Did geography really matter? “Fine. I’ll go. But I’m not going to promise anything will change. I’ve been in rehab before. As you can see, I failed.”
“Do it because somewhere deep inside that selfish prick exterior, you still give a damn about me and Micah,” Julian suggested irritably.
Problem was, I actually did care about him and my elder brother. But all I wanted was for them to just go make themselves happy. I didn’t want any part of that. I was never going to change, and they’d eventually both have to accept it. “I’m doing what you want,” I told him, annoyed that he was still giving me an admonishing look. “Just go away and let me try to go back to sleep.”
“Oh, I’ll be back,” Julian warned. “I’ll be here every damn day until you’re discharged.”
“Great,” I said sarcastically.
“See ya tomorrow, little brother,” he said with a nod, then turned around and walked out the door of my hospital room.
Anger surged up inside me, and it nearly made me forget the agony that my body was going through. I sat up and noticed my hands were shaking, and my head started to pound harder from the sudden change in position.
“Fuck you,” I called out toward the door even though Julian was long gone.
I was pissed because he and Micah couldn’t just leave me alone.
In a moment of blind rage, I picked up the hospital meal that had obviously been left here while I was sleeping. With a burst of anguished fury, I flung the entire tray against the wall, slightly appeased by the sound of breaking glass and the clanging of silverware hitting the floor.
Spent, I let myself fall back onto the pillow, knowing I was even more shattered than the plates and glasses that lay in pieces on the floor.
Julian and Micah would find out just how fucked up I was, and that nobody on this Earth was ever going to be able to put me back together again.
CHAPTER 1
Samantha
THE PRESENT…
“I hope you’re ready for this.”
I nodded at Julian Sinclair as I watched him run a frustrated hand through his hair. “I can handle it, Mr. Sinclair.”
I took another sip of my iced coffee, glad that the brother of my next so-called boss suggested meeting at a coffee shop. Brew Magic had amazing coffee, and I’d needed a pick-me-up. Who knew that the small beach town in Amesport, Maine, was making some of the best coffee I’d ever had? My ass was dragging from getting up early in the morning to drive from New York City to Maine, so I was grateful for the caffeine fix I was eagerly sucking down like it was my savior.
“You haven’t met Xander yet,” he warned ominously. “I’ve seen your references, and believe me, we did an extensive background check. And please call me Julian. There are way too many ‘Mr. Sinclairs’ in this town.”
“You do understand that I’m just a housekeeper and a cook.” I’d reminded him of this fact several times, but I wanted to make sure that he wasn’t expecting miracles.
Oh, yeah. I knew Xander Sinclair was a big hot mess. I’d done my homework before I’d come here, and I’d spoken with Julian at length on the telephone many times. I could tell he was protective of his younger brother, and worried about his state of mind.
“I get it,” Julian answered with a nod. “What I don’t understand is why you wanted to come here to Amesport. When Micah and I started putting out private feelers for somebody to help and stay with Xander, the last thing we counted on was somebody with your qualifications,” Julian replied. “Xander knows you’re a housekeeper that’s going to be here on the island for as long as possible, which God knows he really needs. But he isn’t crazy about the idea of you being in his house, much less staying with him. I think he just wants to be alone.”
The last thing Xander needed was to continue with his self-inflicted isolation. From what I’d gathered from Julian, his younger brother had been left alone long enough.
“My reasons for accepting the position are personal,” I explained. “I wanted to get away from New York City for a while. I thought a nice beach town in the summer might be a great place to hang out.”
“So you said. But you could have just gone on a vacation, right?”
I shook my head. “I like to work, and I wanted to check out things up north. I might eventually move to Maine. My grandparents had a summer cottage in this area when I was little, and I’ve always loved it.”
The memories of having our family all together at Gran’s beach house were some of the best recollections of my childhood. Unfortunately, she’d passed away when I was still in junior high school.
“It’s a hell of a lot slower paced here, and a world away from New York City.”
I shrugged. “Not everybody is cut out to live in the city.”
Okay. That was a bit of a lie. I had actually liked my job in New York, and I’d miss my friends. But I wasn’t lying when I told Julian I’d needed a break.
“Xander doesn’t want you in his house. If he knew that I’m hoping you’ll stay for longer than a few months, he’d refuse completely. Hell, I’m not even sure he’ll let you in now.”
I lifted my chin. “Tough. He’ll have to get used to me being around.” I was confident about my ability to talk my way into Xander’s home. I’d dealt with a lot of badass men in New York that I was pretty certain were ornerier than Xander Sinclair.
“Don’t underestimate my little brother,” Julian warned as he took a gulp of his coffee. “He’s an asshole right now, and in worse shape than I’ve ever seen him. He’s clean, but I have a feeling he’s hanging on by a thread.”
“Can I be frank, Julian?” I asked.
He nodded.
“Xander has to want to stay clean. If he doesn’t, nothing and nobody is going to be able to keep him from going back to abusing drugs and alcohol. He’s isolated, and even though he’s close to his family physically now, he’s obviously not feeling like he’s part of the family again.”
I knew a thing or two about addicts. I’d dealt with one in my immediate family.
“He doesn’t seem to want to be part of the family again. We’ve tried,” Julian answered huskily. “I don’t know what the hell to do to make him want to stay free of drugs and alcohol. It’s like I lost my little brother, and I don’t know how to get him back.”
“I understand,” I murmured. “I’ll do what I can to help him.” At the very least, Julian’s brother would end up with a clean house. I was kind of anal about living organized and in a happy space—which for me meant a tidy living area.
“That’s all we ask,” Julian replied. “What are you going to do if he won’t let you in?”
“Convince him,” I replied. There was no way in hell I was going to let Xander turn
me away. I hadn’t up and left my old job and drove for hours just to let him slam the door on me.
Julian grinned. “You know; you almost make me believe you can manage that.”
I smiled back at him. “Like I said, I’ll handle it.”
“His house really is a pig sty.” Julian grimaced and drained the last of his coffee.
“I don’t mind,” I replied. “Cleaning it up is part of my job.”
The two oldest Sinclair brothers were paying me to clean a house and cook meals, even if that home was currently a disaster.
He shook his head. “You haven’t seen it yet. It’s a beautiful home that Micah had built for him. It even has a recording studio, but that was wishful thinking on Micah’s part since Xander says he won’t ever perform again. The mansion is close to the shoreline, and the beach is pretty private. The place is almost brand new, but my little brother has already trashed it pretty badly.”
“Has he always been messy?”
“No. Well, no more than any other single guy who puts off cleaning up after himself. When we were kids, Xander was probably the tidiest of the three of us. He was also probably the one with the biggest heart. He’s changed.”
“He sounds angry and depressed. You said he still hasn’t hurt anyone.” I’d had other, lengthier conversations with both Micah and Julian on the phone to discern my new client’s current state of mind. I knew what I was getting myself into. But as long as my new boss had never injured anybody, I was good. I could handle an asshole as long as he didn’t have violent tendencies.
“He hasn’t. Not on purpose, anyway. He’s been startled by flashbacks a couple of times, but he wouldn’t intentionally hurt anyone. The only one he seems to want to destroy is himself.”
“He has multiple issues, Julian. I’m sure it will take time.”
Xander’s brothers hadn’t held back when they’d given me information on their little brother’s state of mind. They’d been honest, letting me know that he had problems, and exactly what they were.
“You think he just needs more time? Even though it’s been several years since my parents were killed and Xander was injured? He’s been through multiple rehabs with counseling.”
“Like I said on the phone, I think he needs purpose. He needs to want to recover completely.”
“Well, I hope you can help him find that purpose, because Micah and I have fucking failed miserably.”
“I’ll do my best.” It was all I could do.
“Fair enough,” he answered. “Would you like me to go with you to his house to introduce you?”
“Julian!” A loud female voice interrupted our conversation. “Hello, Julian.”
I watched as the handsome, blond Sinclair brother turned around. His back was facing the entrance, but I could see the elderly woman waving at him near the door. Brew Magic was packed, but she quickly made her way to our table with more spunk than I’d expect from a female who was probably in her eighties.
Julian shot her a charming smile as she stopped beside our table. “Beatrice. Nice to see you.”
I wanted to flinch from the intense, knowing stare the gray-haired woman gave me as she appeared to survey me carefully. I wasn’t sure why it bothered me. It wasn’t like I wasn’t used to being stared down, and her pink sneakers and purple jogging outfit weren’t exactly intimidating. But for some inexplicable reason, she made me uneasy.
“I’m so glad you finally got here, dear,” the woman exclaimed happily.
I looked at Julian in surprise. I thought he hadn’t shared my arrival here with anyone except Micah, their wives, and Xander.
He shook his head, indicating silently that the older woman didn’t know why I was here.
“I think you have me confused with someone else,” I told her politely, smiling back at her.
“Oh, there’s no mistake.”
Julian interrupted, “Samantha Riley, let me introduce you to Beatrice. She’s Amesport’s own official psychic and matchmaker.”
I picked up on the tone of his voice, and instantly knew he wanted me to humor this woman. Since she seemed harmless, I was okay with that. “How lovely,” I answered cordially. “You must have some remarkable talents.”
Beatrice waved her hand. “Oh, I wouldn’t go that far. Although Julian is very sweet to say so. I consider myself a seer, actually. And I don’t always recognize soulmates. But I seem to have a certain affinity with the Sinclairs. Predicted every one of their matches.”
I wasn’t quite sure what the truth actually was, but the elderly female seemed harmless enough, and her elevated spirit seemed almost contagious. “Is that right?”
“Oh, yes, dear. And I’ve been waiting a very long time for you to get here. Xander desperately needs you. This is for you.”
I held out my palm without thinking about it as she offered me a dark object. “What is this?” I questioned curiously.
“It’s your Apache tear,” she explained. “I don’t think you need it nearly as much as Xander, but it will help you along. You do have some of your defenses to break through.”
Okay. It was one of the most bizarre conversations I’d ever had, but as I closed my fist, I could swear the stone warmed in my hand. “It’s beautiful, but I can’t accept this. You don’t even know me.”
Beatrice was still staring, her intense gaze still uncomfortable. “I know your soul,” she professed.
“Are you saying that Samantha is Xander’s match, Beatrice?” Julian asked, sounding surprised.
I shifted my eyes to him, wondering if he really believed in the mystic. His question hadn’t quite sounded convinced. But he’d sounded hopeful, which scared the hell out of me.
The older woman nodded. “And we all know how much Xander needs her. I was afraid she’d be too late.”
Beatrice turned back toward the door, waving at another woman around her age. “Oh, there’s Elsie. We need to talk. It’s been nice meeting you, dear. Welcome to Amesport.” She patted Julian on the shoulder. “I’m glad you’re happy now, Julian. Take care of your beautiful wife.”
“You know I will,” he answered.
I watched as the petite, elderly woman made her way back to the door and embraced her friend.
I clutched the stone tighter in my fist, trying to get rid of the weird feeling that it was meant to be mine. “Did that really just happen?”
Julian chuckled. “It did. I think you’ll find out that Amesport is a colorful town. But there’s nowhere I’d rather be.”
“Did she really predict your soulmates, or is she delusional?”
“Actually, she did. None of us know if it was coincidence or psychic magic, but we’re too happy to care.”
“Interesting,” I mumbled, knowing that Beatrice would be disappointed this time. I quickly dropped the stone into my handbag, which was hanging on the back of my chair.
“I think so,” Julian teased. “Honestly, I hope she’s right.”
I stood, sucked down the last of my coffee and grabbed my purse. “Why? The last thing your brother needs right now is a relationship. And I certainly don’t.”
Julian rose. “I don’t have a damn clue what my brother needs, Samantha. There’s not much we haven’t tried.”
“Please call me Sam.” I held out my hand.
Julian reached out and shook with a firm grasp. “Sam,” he corrected. “Honestly, I don’t care how you help Xander. I just want my little brother back.”
I nodded. “It could be a twisted road,” I warned. “And if he doesn’t want to talk to me, then I can’t be a companion to him. You’ll have to settle for his house being clean.”
“I’m willing to wait,” he answered hoarsely as he released my hand.
“I’ll be in touch.” I put the cross-body strap of my bag over my head.
“Do you want me to drive you?” he asked as he
accompanied me from the building.
“No, thanks. I’ll find him.” I was better off approaching Xander alone. If he wasn’t thrilled about having company, I’d rather choose my own methods of persuasion.
I’ll figure it out when I meet Xander, but I am getting into that house.
“Take care,” Julian said as we parted ways outside. “If things get rough, call me.”
I nodded as I made my way to my compact car, hitting a button on the keychain to open the door as I absorbed the scent and warmth of a perfect summer day on the Atlantic coast.
The town was packed with tourists, most of them heading to the beach. I was momentarily diverted as I listened to the sound of the waves, and the smell of salt water lingering in the air.
I wanted to explore all of the little shops along Main Street, but a different, more intense mission was calling me, so the town and the beach would wait.
With one last deep breath of the outdoors, I situated myself in the driver’s seat and maneuvered my car out of town.
I was beyond ready to meet Xander Sinclair.
I just hoped he was ready for me.
CHAPTER 2
Xander
All I wanted was a goddamn drink! Why in the fuck was I still fighting falling off the sobriety wagon?
The seduction of successfully blocking out reality with alcohol or drugs haunted me every minute of every day, taunting me to give in. I wasn’t bullshitting myself into thinking that one drink would help. I wanted the whole fucking bottle.
Yeah, I’d been through the Alcoholics and Narcotics Anonymous routine. More than once. I’d never made it past the first step in the twelve-step programs. I’d given my counselor the necessary assurance that I had so I could get the hell out of rehab. And I could admit that I was powerless in the face of alcohol and drugs. But that was it.
There was no sanity for me.
I couldn’t give my shit over to a power greater than myself.
And I sure as hell had never made some kind of fearless and moral inventory of my actions. If I tried to search my soul, all I’d find was an all-consuming darkness.
