Until I Knew Myself (Bentwood Book 1)

by Tammy L. Gray

  “Because it’s exhausting to try and be somewhere you don’t belong.” His voiced hitched. “I was born in a trailer. I grew up wearing shoes we didn’t replace until they had holes and even then it was a trip to the thrift store. I was taught to fight for everything I had and not to trust anyone. And my mom was right. I needed to be taught that because I was left alone. But then Beck, he fixed it, but it was still second hand.” Tyler picked at a jagged splinter in the table. For the first time since their fight, Beck’s anger seemed justified. In his mind, he’d given Tyler everything and thought him wholly ungrateful. “When I found out about my grandfather, something in me snapped. I felt like I’d lost my only chance to have something that was mine. Someone who loved me for me and not because Beck asked them to.”

  Silence enveloped them and he held to it, relieved for the chance to collect himself.

  “Ty,” she finally said. “Sometimes in life, we tell ourselves things that are lies. We look at a situation and believe we’re forced to remain trapped, even when doors fly open around us.”

  He looked up at her face, confused. She’d shifted again to that same sadness she wore when talking about the ugly bowl she’d made. A tornado, she’d said. “What happened to you, Caroline?”

  She pressed her lips together and blinked. A wash of tears cleared and she was once again the mighty girl he’d been so drawn to in friendship. Now he understood it. It wasn’t just her ability to make him forget. It was her inner strength. Exactly what Journey had seen in one afternoon.

  “I don’t focus on this,” she began. “Because I’m not a victim and I won’t give him more power by living like one. But I see so much of me in you. Maybe that’s why we connected so fast. Why I felt safe even though you were a stranger.”

  He understood. He’d felt it too.

  “About a year ago, I got out of a situation that was toxic and had been for several years. In the beginning people tried to help me, to warn me, but I didn’t hear it. I didn’t listen, because I was so sure I wanted that life… that person.” She smiled at him sympathetically. “If you’d asked me, I would have told you he was my family. My future. I couldn’t see the danger.”

  Her face had gone ashen, her normally bright, cheerful eyes dull and sorrowful. A fierce vengeance rose up in him, a fire inside that barreled through every limb. “He hurt you.”

  “That isn’t the point here,” she said with more calm than he possessed in that moment. “I had trapped myself in a situation of my own making, and when I finally realized it, no one was around to help me. In the course of two years, I had isolated myself from everyone.” Her voice dropped, low and ashamed. “You want to talk about feeling alone? I stared at myself in the mirror and seriously contemplated if life was worth it.”

  Horror filled his chest. It seemed impossible to reconcile the vibrant, outgoing girl he knew with the one she was describing.

  “Then one Sunday morning, I went for a walk. Not an uncommon thing for me back then. And this church was on the corner. I couldn’t even have told you what denomination it was, just that suddenly I was following people inside.” Her lips lifted slightly. “I can’t remember if anyone spoke to me, I can’t remember the music. I only remember one thing. One line from the preacher’s sermon. I remember it, because I walked out right after, before the service was even finished and called my parents for the first time in months.” She pressed her lips together and swallowed. “I know it’s different, but I see so much of that lost person in you, Ty. I felt completely alone when I had everyone I needed just waiting for me to call for help.”

  Tyler felt the burn of tears at the corners of his eyes, tasted the salt in the back of his throat. He could see himself in that church, alone, dejected. He could feel the helplessness of it all. Swallowing back, he asked in a steady voice, “What did the preacher say?”

  She tucked a piece of hair back, exposing a small jagged scar on her temple he’d never noticed until now. “He said, ‘If we are sons and daughters of a mighty God, why do we live our life as orphans?’”

  Tyler’s breath hitched at the word that had plagued him since childhood.

  “The thing is, Ty, part of me enjoyed that conversation with April, as surreal as it was, because I saw how much she cared. I watched Journey’s face change when I spoke your name. And though you don’t realize it, Beck admires you so much. I think in some ways, he’d trade places if he could.” Her hands slid across the divide and she placed her fingers tightly around his. “You have a family. It may be unconventional, but it’s yours.”

  He stared at the table, unable to speak or move. He was used to people talking, saying words out loud to try and explain away his pain, or maybe just their own discomfort. Caroline, on the other hand, spoke volumes with her touch. The way her hand clutched his, it ripped inside his chest, promised an understanding no one else ever had. The emotion was too overwhelming. He was going to lose it right there, in this greasy corner booth.

  She squeezed tighter and her voice filled his mind as loud as if she’d spoken. I’m here. I get it.

  He kept his head lowered, his throat swelling. The crack on the table was the only thing holding him together. He studied it, the way it etched across the wood, jagged and undefined, searching for an end.

  Seconds passed into moments. No words. No eye contact. Just their hands combined, until finally her voice snapped his heart wide open.

  “You’re not an orphan, Ty. Anymore than I ever was.”

  Chapter 32

  Caroline had somehow managed to get through lunch without a full on meltdown. It helped that the waiter interrupted them soon after she’d exposed her secret. She’d asked Ty not to share it and thankfully, he’d adamantly assured he wouldn’t. But still, she didn’t like how he looked at her now, like a part of her was cracked.

  She sipped on her mint chocolate chip shake and tried to think of a new subject to engage in. “So this morning I walk in and Beckham has assigned me this campaign that’s easily a six month project with massive travel and coordination between all the southwest branches.”

  Tyler raised his brow. “That’s a big job. He must see your potential.”

  “Or he wants me to fail.” She couldn’t help the eerie feeling she had, like she was being cast off, forced out. “Do you think he believes what April did? That you and I are… you know.”

  “No. I made it very clear to him that we weren’t. And besides, Beck’s a lot of things, but vengeful isn’t one of them. You are on loan to our division. Makes sense he’d want to use you across the branches.”

  “I guess.” She poked at her ice cream with the straw.

  Tyler’s brows scrunched. “If you’re worried about it, I can go talk to him. Make sure there is no more confusion for anyone.”

  “No. I think that would make it worse.” She sighed. “I hate drama.”

  “And here I went and dumped all of my baggage right in your living room. I’m sorry for that.”

  “I’m not.” Caroline smiled at him. “Besides, if you hadn’t barreled past my front door, I wouldn’t have tasted this amazing shake.”

  He laughed. “I guess there are some perks to being my friend.”

  Almost at the same exact time, both their phones buzzed. His, a vibration, hers a sharp ting in her purse.

  “Oh gosh, what time is it?” She pulled out her phone, saw the clock and winced. “Crap. I’m an hour late. Shoot.” She pressed the circle and felt a little less panicked, the message was a mass one sent to the whole division.

  STAFF MEETING – 3PM – ATTENDANCE MANDATORY

  Maybe no one would notice she’d been gone so long. At the same time, she wasn’t about to extend her already lengthy lunch. She waved their waiter over and lifted her shake. “Can I get this in a to-go cup.”

  “Sure.” He grabbed the frozen metal container and went back to the counter.

  Tyler checked his message as well and held it up. It matched hers.

  “Aren’t you still on sabbatical?
” she asked.

  “Yes, so I have every intention of ignoring the summons.”

  “We should all be so lucky.” Frantically she pulled out her wallet. Ugh. No cash. Now she’d have to wait for them to run her card, too.

  “I’ve got it,” Ty said, his hand falling on her arm. “But why the rush. It’s only one.”

  “Ty, I left before eleven. We’ve been here over two hours.”

  “So what? You stay late enough to even it out. If you get the job done, who cares?”

  Maybe he was right. She did tend to be extra sensitive when there was tension. Her shoulders fell in a grateful release. “Thank you for lunch. I’ll get the next one.” Sliding out of the booth, Caroline tucked her purse on her shoulders. The waiter was on his way back her new cup in his hand.

  “Thank you,” she said and turned to Ty. “You good?”

  He smiled up at her and she could see that some of the emotion had lessened. “Yeah. Real good. Thank you.”

  And right then, Caroline knew exposing herself, letting down that guard, it had all been worth it. After all, how could she call her battle a victory if no one else benefited from what she’d overcome?

  Caroline took furious notes as Beckham continued to lay out his needs for the new project. They’d been at it ten minutes and he’d yet to look her in the eyes, or even do more than drone on about things he’d said were urgent but she knew could wait until tomorrow.

  She’d thought she could slip in, unseen, but fate didn’t work that way. She’d spotted Beckham in the hall right outside her office and despite hoping he’d pass by without a word, like he’d been doing since April Fool’s, he’d stopped. When his eyes focused on the Lane’s cup in her hand, she’d blurted out an apology, telling him she’d make up the time that afternoon. He nodded and walked away.

  Twenty minutes later, his assistant called, her voice ripe with judgment, and informed her that Mr. Kinder, the junior version, was demanding a meeting.

  “Do you think any of that will be a problem?” Beckham finally lifted his head and made eye contact.

  Part of her wished he hadn’t. Purple marred the soft pads of his eyes, and they’d dulled, the soft brown neither tender nor kind. They’d only known each other a short time, but all the same, the person in front of her did not seem like the same one she’d come to consider a friend.

  “No problem at all,” she said, though she wanted to say so much more.

  “Good. Now that that is out of the way, we need to go over a few ground rules about dating someone in the office.”

  “I’m sorry?” It was the first time Beckham’s professionalism had faltered. The first time she’d even seen a glimpse of the man she thought she knew.

  He focused on the papers in front of him. “You will need to let HR know about the relationship, just to avoid any complications with you two working together. And the long lunch thing will need to stop. People will notice and it can effect morale in the entire division.”

  Caroline set down her notebook. She knew they needed to hash this out, but had hoped for a less intimidating setting when they did. “Ty and I are not dating.”

  “Well, whatever you’re calling it, just don’t bring it to the office.” He stood and buttoned his coat. When she didn’t move, he rounded the desk and motioned to the door, a dismissal as loud as a clanging bell.

  Caroline stood slowly, looking past the shield of indifference to a man who was far too complicated for her. Driven by compassion and something else she didn’t want to consider, she found herself taking a step toward him and not the door. “Beckham. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”

  He still wouldn’t look at her so she took one more step and placed a hand on his arm.

  He flinched at her touch, but it worked, because his gaze met hers and in it was years of pain. “Just tell me one thing.” His mouth tightened. “Why him? Of all the people in this city, why him?”

  The silence that settled between them made Caroline shift on her feet. What could she say to him that would make any sense at all? The last time they’d been this close, he’d been exposed, vulnerable, begging her to let him in, and she’d rejected him.

  He shook his head and exhaled. “Never mind. It doesn’t matter now, anyway.”

  “No. It does matter. The three of us are going to be working together, and I don’t want there to be any misunderstandings.”

  “What misunderstanding? You wanted him. Not me. It’s not the first time and it won’t be the last. I’m perfectly capable of carrying on and being professional.”

  There was no way to explain without telling him more than she could. Giving Ty pieces of her story to help him find peace was one thing. Turning her heart over to a man like Beckham Kinder broke a completely different set of rules.

  “You don’t understand. There was no relationship so there was no choice to make.”

  “Oh, I think there was.” Beckham pressed in, his chest now inches away, his head towering above hers. She adjusted her neck to accommodate and swallowed. No man should ever smell that good. “You told me I wasn’t what you needed. You’ve kept me from seeing you, from knowing you at all, and yet you let him in.” The closer he got, the more his voice softened, sensual more than biting. Longing instead of contempt. Her skin flushed with the heat pouring off him and somehow his fingers found her wrist, trailed a line up her arm until the feather soft tips brushed her chin. His head bent low. “As a friend or as more, it doesn’t matter. When it came down to it, you picked him.”

  He was too large, too close. Nervously, Caroline tried to collect her thoughts, but lost the battle when his hot breath touched her cheek. “For the record,” he whispered as she waited, anticipating that first brush of his lips to hers. “You chose wrong.”

  With that, Beckham shoved away and returned to his desk, no longer acknowledging she was still standing in his office.

  Caroline opened her mouth to say something…anything.

  But there was nothing left to say that he hadn’t already made clear with that one calculated move.

  She turned blindly and staggered toward the closed office door. Everywhere he had touched, her nerves stung, as did the sense of deep disappointment. She’d wanted his closeness, wanted his dark emotion, wanted to once again feel that passion she’d denied herself since it’d been tainted.

  “You’re not technically part of my staff,” he said. “Lynda will replace you if you request it.”

  “Are you asking me to leave?” She turned. He stood by the window, his back to her. His fist rested against the glass, and she noticed his hand was trembling.

  “I don’t want you to feel uncomfortable.”

  He was testing her. Pushing her to ask to be taken off his team. Just like what Ty had said happened to Terri when she became too inconvenient.

  Caroline fought against the tightness in her chest. “I see no need to go to that extreme.” She squared her shoulders. He may have given her this project to scare her off, but she’d prove to everyone, including herself, she was strong enough to handle whatever grenade was thrown in her path. “We’re coworkers. Professionals. There’s no law that requires us to also be friends.”

  Chapter 33

  As daylight snuck through the open storage room door, Tyler realized the degree of destruction he’d leveled on the place. Cardboard boxes lay in ruin, torn and twisted. Shattered glass covered most of the floor as did loose papers and corroded metal. What had once seemed like a treasure chest, now felt oddly like landfill.

  Something had shifted after his conversation with Caroline the day before, her words playing in his head like a song on continual repeat. You’re not an orphan, Ty. You have a family. It may be unconventional, but it’s yours.

  Staring at the stuff in front of him, he knew she was right. Whatever he’d been searching for, it didn’t exist in these boxes.

  Determined to end this chapter for good, he circled back to his car and pulled a broom and dustpan from the back seat, along with the box of
contractor grade trash bags. He would save only the items listed on Mr. Bakerfield’s sheet, if they were salvageable. Those were the valuable ones. The ones most likely acquired with less than honorable means. What he’d do with them, Tyler still hadn’t decided, but he certainly wasn’t going to spend the next month pretending his grandfather hadn’t played one last sucker.

  Forty-five minutes into the clean-up, Tyler hauled yet another full bag of trash to the dumpster. Thick moist air clung to him, the heat nearly as unpleasant as the job. Tyler wiped his brow with the edge of his t-shirt and stalked back to the storage unit. He’d get this done today and never think about Dustin or Norman ever again.

  He kicked aside a stack of books and squatted down to start retrieving the scattered papers, barely glancing at the black script before shoving each one into a fresh bag. Bills. Collection notices—there were plenty of those. Car manual. Escrow paperwork.

  Copy of a birth certificate.

  He paused and slowly pulled his hand back from the inside of the bag, never releasing the faded paper. It was the name that caught his eye: Ian Mitchell.

  Tyler flattened it out, squinted to read the old print.

  State of Texas,

  City of Austin Registration District

  His eyes bounced over the page, his stomach twisting with each word he read.

  Name: McKenna Marley Mitchell

  Hospital: North Austin Medical Center

  Mother: Lisa Ann Conner

  Father: Ian Michael Mitchell.

  Tyler fell back, his rear hitting the concrete while his legs slid out from under him. A sister. He had a sister. Born when his father was only seventeen, just as Dustin had claimed. Tyler quickly counted the years on his fingers.

  She’d be twenty-nine on July fifteenth.

  Pulling up to his knees, Tyler ransacked the other papers until he found more evidence: a letter from an adoption lawyer, giving Ian three days to reclaim his rights. The letter continued, offering no specific information, but the general environment in which McKenna would be raised. White, affluent family. Both parents were college-educated professionals. No children in the home due to multiple miscarriages.