by Addison Cole
“That was stupid,” she said to the empty room, and padded into the kitchen. She set her phone on the counter while she poured herself some juice.
A few minutes later her phone chimed, and Max’s pulse sprinted. Holding her breath, she reached for the phone, then stopped. I don’t want to do this. Yes, I do. She closed her eyes, gathering courage like a cloak, and finally picked up the phone. With her jaw clenched so tight she worried she might crack a tooth, she read his message.
Hey, Max. How are you?
She bit her lower lip and typed, Fine. Since when had she become a liar? She was so far from fine right then, she could barely think.
His response was instant. Glad to hear it.
She stared at the screen, trying to figure out what she wanted to achieve. She never did things without a plan in place, and suddenly she was adrift in a sea of worries. Why had she reached out? What did she really want? Closure? To see if she was strong enough to actually face him? To see if he regretted how he’d treated her?
All of the above?
She typed, Where are you living? Again, his response came quickly. Yakima, Washington. You?
Max’s hands stopped cold. She didn’t want him to know where she lived, but somewhere in the back of her mind, she was already forming a plan.
She typed, I’m in your area tomorrow for work. I’d like to come by and talk.
He answered quickly. Working all day.
Where? She stared at the screen after sending the message and then read his response twice—Crowne Inn, off Central Ave—before making her decision and typing, Can I stop by?
She held her breath as his response rolled in.
I never thought you’d speak to me again. Yes, I’d like that. I have things to tell you.
She had things to tell him, too, though she had no idea if they’d come out in tears or rage, and she didn’t care. She needed to do this, if for no other reason than to get the hatred she’d been harboring out at the right person. Her efficient, organized mind was already racing through the travel and work arrangements she’d need to make. She hated the idea of leaving Treat to deal with this, but she knew if they had any chance at a future, it was necessary.
She responded with, Okay. 7:00 p.m.?
Once he agreed, she went to work making travel arrangements before she could chicken out. She’d left Ryan once, and she’d carried the nightmare of him with her like a silent predator.
After tomorrow she hoped to never feel like his prey again.
Chapter Twenty-Five
TREAT’S ARM FELL on an empty sheet. He opened his eyes and found Max curled up in the chair by the window. “Hey, babe. You okay?”
“Yeah,” she said softly as she came to him and sat on the bed. “I need to talk to you.”
“I’m all ears.”
She pressed a kiss to his bare chest and said, “Well, not all ears.”
He put his arm around her, pulling her down for a kiss. “What’s going on? You seem tense.”
“I am. I have to leave.”
“Leave?” He sat up, feeling gutted. “Why? What’s going on?”
“Nothing bad. I promise.”
The uncertainty in her beautiful eyes worried him. “Then why are you leaving?”
She drew in a deep breath and blew it out slowly. “When we were in Nassau, I knew right away how much we felt for each other. And when we reunited in Colorado, my feelings for you became crystal clear. Being here these past few days has only solidified that in my heart and in my mind.”
“Then why are you leaving? Is it because of the Thailand deal?”
“Not really, but in a sense, yes. I’ve been where we are now, where one person has to give up something big to make the relationship work. And I know that the love that drives people together can turn to resentment. Once the honeymoon stage wears off and real life comes in with deadlines, pressures, and late nights and all you want is to be left alone, you can’t help but lose the feelings that drove you together. And then resentment creeps in.”
He took her hand in his and said, “Max, that’s not true. I don’t know who you’re using as your basis for that knowledge, but if it’s your ex, then please, throw that out altogether. That’s not going to happen with us.” He gripped her hand tighter, unwilling to let her break their connection.
“Maybe you’re right, but we need to think about a way around that, and while we’re thinking about it, I need to finally get closure with my past. I don’t want to bring my ghosts into our relationship, no matter how willing you are to let me. I love you for that, but it’s time for me to grow up and finally face the man who hurt me. That’s the only way I’ll ever put what happened behind me.”
“What are you saying, exactly? Where are you going?”
“To see Ryan. To unbury my ghosts and finally set them free. I spoke to Chaz and told him I needed a few more days off.”
The thought of Max facing that deviant brought Treat to his feet. “I’m going with you.” He strode toward the shower, rage and concern warring inside him.
“Treat, stop.”
“You’re not doing this alone, Max.”
“You told me you liked that I was supremely strong,” she said as she closed the distance between them. “That if we were together back then, you’d want to hear what I had to say. I love you for wanting to go with me, but this is my past, my hurt, and letting you deal with it would make me as weak as I felt when it happened. I’m finally taking my grandmother’s advice and speaking my mind. I have to do this, and I have to do it alone.”
“You’re asking me to let you walk into the hands of a deviant. The hands of a man who hurt you so badly that it still haunts you.”
She wrapped her arms around his middle, gazing up with trusting, determined eyes. “I am, because if we are going to have any chance at a normal future, I need to do this. The same way you need to not give up the things that make you happy. You deserve a woman who is whole in every way. Let me try to become that woman.”
He embraced her too tightly, gritting his teeth against all his basal instincts. “I want to go with you. I’ll wait in the car, whatever, just let me be there.”
She shook her head, and it was that fierce determination that made him cave. “I will never go through with it if you’re with me. It’s too easy to let you take care of me in that way. Please grant me the space to do it.”
He ground his teeth together. “For the record, I hate this idea, no matter how proud of you I am for taking this step. I’m driving you to the airport, and I want to know this guy’s name, where you’re meeting him, and when.”
“I already wrote down everything. It’s on the counter. I knew you’d want it, and don’t worry. I’m meeting him in a public place, where he works.” A small smile lifted her lips, and she said, “I’d really like it if you would drive me to the airport, but what about my car?”
“Smitty will take care of returning it.”
“Okay, but we need to hurry. I don’t want to miss my flight.”
AFTER DROPPING MAX at her gate for her flight, Treat’s protective urges surged even stronger than they had all morning. He had his bags packed and in the trunk, but Max had remained adamant about doing this herself. He strode toward the ticket counter, hoping she’d forgive him for showing up anyway.
His phone rang, and he pulled it from his pocket without looking at the number.
“Max?”
“Uh, no. It’s me.”
“Sorry, Savannah.” Treat’s mind was reeling. He had to get a ticket.
“I thought Max was with you.”
He tamped down the urge to snap at her. “She was. What do you need?”
“It’s Dad. He’s sick, and I’m really worried about him.”
“I just saw him. He was strong as an ox.” He decided to hell with the ticket for a later flight. He’d charter a plane and beat Max there, so he could be waiting when she arrived.
“Treat, are you listening to me?”
T
he edge in Savannah’s voice pulled him back to the call. “Yes, sorry.”
“You have to come home. Dad’s having bouts of dizziness and chest pains, and I’m scared.”
His gut wrenched at the position he was in, but Max had made her choice, and his father may not have one. “Get him to the hospital. I’m on my way.”
Cursing under his breath, he called and left Max a message telling her he was heading home, and then he called his buddy Brett Bad, owner of Elite Security, and arranged for an investigation into the man who had hurt Max, as well as a private, plain-clothed security professional to watch over her in his absence. She might get pissed at that, but he wasn’t taking any chances with her safety.
Chapter Twenty-Six
THINGS BECAME CRYSTAL clear to Treat as he sat by his father’s bedside in the hospital. It was time for him to come home and put down roots, and he wanted to do that with Max. He had built his empire based on his keen negotiating skills and his belief in personally being involved with every transaction. He’d entrenched himself so deeply that when it came to acquisitions, partnered with his legal and financial advisers, there was never a need to look outside of his own abilities. Now he was seeing another side to what he’d always done. He’d been hiding—from the guilt of leaving his family, from commitment, and from love. For the first time in his life, he cared about someone enough to want to stop hiding.
He took his father’s hand in his own, hoping it wasn’t too late for him to make up for all the years they’d missed.
“Do you want to go to Dad’s and put your stuff away? Relax for a little while?” Savannah asked.
“I’m not leaving,” Treat insisted. “But you can. I’ll be here when he wakes up.”
“I’m not ready to leave. Rex is coming back after he takes care of the evening chores. I’m sure it’ll be fine if you want to take shifts.”
“Savannah, I’m not going anywhere.” He didn’t mean to sound gruff, but seeing his father in the hospital bed brought painful memories of his mother’s last months. She’d been in and out of the hospital too many times to count, and though his father was much bigger, the hospital had the same effect on both of them, making them look diminished and weak beneath the sterile sheets.
“Okay. Dane finally got my messages. He’s in Australia and he’s taking the next flight home.”
“Did you reach Hugh?”
“He’s on his way, and before you can ask, Josh is on his way, too. He had to move his schedule around before he could leave,” she said. She moved to the seat closer to Treat. “Do you want to talk?”
“No. I want the doctors to finish the frigging tests and tell us what’s wrong with him.”
Their father stirred.
“Dad?” Treat rose to his feet as Hal blinked the sleep from his eyes.
“Treat? What are you doing here?” He looked around the room, confused. “What the…?” He looked down at his gown. “Aw, come on.” He frowned at Savannah.
Treat breathed a sigh of relief to see their father hadn’t lost his spunk. That had to be a good sign.
“You weren’t able to breathe, Dad. What did you want me to do, let you die right there in front of me?” Savannah asked.
“Wait.” It suddenly struck Treat that Savannah was supposed to have been back home in New York when this happened. “Why were you at Dad’s? I thought you went back to the city.”
His father’s low, rumbly voice answered him. “Turns out Connor Dean’s more than a client, and your sister here seems to have had a falling out with the man who isn’t good enough for her family to meet but is apparently good enough for her to jet all over the world with.”
Treat lifted his brows in Savannah’s direction.
Savannah half shrugged, then turned away—her familiar I can’t talk about it right now mannerism.
As much as Treat wanted to find out what was going on with his sister, he couldn’t focus on her love life right then. Not while Max was across the country preparing to face down her nemesis and his father was lying in a hospital bed. “Dad, you should probably settle down. They’re running all sorts of tests to see what happened, but they think it might have been your heart.”
“Pfft.” Hal waved a hand as if that were absurd. “I saw your mother again, that’s all. Your sister overreacted.”
Savannah and Treat exchanged a worried look. Treat thought back to when he’d first arrived at the bungalow. He’d sworn his mother was nearby, and even now he wondered if she had been.
Their father pushed the button on his bed, raising it so he could sit up properly. “Don’t think I didn’t see that look, you two.”
“Dad,” Savannah began. “We’re just worried about you.”
“Well, how about you worry about yourself. And you.” He pointed at Treat. “Your mother is worried sick about you. What the hell are you doing about that sweet girl, Max? I met her, you know. We all did. Reminds me of your mother. She’s a darlin’ thing, and I bet she’s got a stubborn side, too.”
Treat smiled to himself, thinking about their morning. “Yes, she does.”
Luckily, before they went any further down the your mother road, the doctor came into the room. Dr. Mason Carpenter had been their father’s physician for as long as Treat could remember. When he retired two years earlier, his son and partner in the medical practice, Ben, had taken over. Ben and Treat had grown up together, and Treat not only trusted his medical judgment, but he had always found Ben to be a loyal friend. He shook Ben’s hand.
“Treat, good to see you,” Ben said, his eyes shifting to Savannah.
Ben had harbored a crush on Savannah when they were younger. Treat remembered the summer after Savannah had completed ninth grade and he and Ben had been home from college. Savannah had realized that her body was no longer that of a young girl and had flaunted it as such, much to Treat’s dismay. Ben hadn’t been able to take his eyes off her then, and from the looks of him now, those feelings hadn’t changed.
“Savannah, you’re still here,” Ben said with surprise. “Nice to see you heeded my suggestion to go home and relax for a while.”
“Yes, and I’m not leaving anytime soon.” She crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes at him.
“Benjamin, when am I getting out of this place?” their father asked.
Ben smiled and said, “Well, Mr. Braden, I have to ask you a few questions. What were you doing when your symptoms began? Savannah wasn’t sure. Were you doing anything strenuous?”
“I told you. He was in the barn when I found him—”
“The last time I looked, honey, I was Mr. Braden,” their father said. “Now, he might have been talking to Treat, I suppose, but Ben here has been to medical school, and I can’t imagine by the way he looks at you that he would mistake you for a mister.”
Ben blushed.
Savannah stewed.
Treat laughed under his breath. Yup, Dad. You’re just fine.
“To answer your question, I was in the barn with Hope,” their father answered. “And, Ben, call me Hal, please. How many years have I been telling you that?”
“And were you brushing her? Mucking out the stall?” Ben asked. “What exactly were you doing?”
Treat had to smile at the way Ben ignored his father’s request. Ben had told his father at least a dozen times that he had too much respect for him to call him by his first name, and his father still hadn’t stopped grumbling about it.
Hal set his mouth in a serious line and crossed his arms. Treat watched his father’s biceps bounce to the same rhythm of his clenching jaw, reminding him so much of Rex, it was uncanny. Sitting up straighter, with annoyance stewing just under his skin, his father no longer looked small or sickly in the hospital gown. He looked like he was ready to haul his butt out of bed and get back to work.
There’s the dad I know and love. Treat looked up at the ceiling and mouthed, Thank you.
“Mr. Braden?” Ben urged.
Hal grumbled under his breath, then said, “Oh,
all right. But I don’t want to hear any crap about this, you hear me, Benjamin?”
“Yes, sir. No crap,” Ben said with a nod.
Ben had seen Hal through every mood on the spectrum. He and his parents had enjoyed many barbecues at the ranch with his family.
“I was talking to Adriana.” Hal scanned his children’s faces first, then his doctor’s.
Treat knew his father saw exactly what he did on Savannah and Ben’s faces—pity. He used to have to work hard to keep that same look from his own, but after the Cape, he was no longer certain of anything where his mother was concerned.
“Don’t look at me like that. It doesn’t matter what you think of it. Adriana was there, and she was watching over Hope the same way I was.” He shifted his eyes to Treat and pointed a finger. “She’s worried that you’re going to get so lost in your own little world of resorts and whatever else eats up your time, you’ll forget about the thing that matters most.” He patted his heart.
Ben drew his eyebrows together, and Treat held his hands palms up, as if to say, That’s Dad for you. But Treat couldn’t lie to himself. His father’s words spoke directly to his thoughts where Max was concerned.
“Mr. Braden, I don’t doubt that you believe you saw your wife,” Ben said carefully, “or that you have ongoing conversations with her.”
“Oh, for crying out loud, Ben,” Savannah said with a sigh.
Treat touched her arm and shook his head. She sat down and crossed her legs, bouncing her foot up and down.
“Hear me out, please, Savannah.” Ben continued. “Your father had all the symptoms of a heart attack, but I believe he actually suffered from broken heart syndrome.”
