Clay grinned at him when Storm looked over.
“What?”
Clay shrugged. “You sound like you love your job and you believe in what you do. I’ve always admired that.”
Uncomfortable, Storm waved it off. “And that’s why you decided to go into applied mathematics rather than architecture? Not going to follow in my footsteps?”
“Well, I had dreamed of being a rocket scientist, so I found something that works for me. I like watching things being built, but I’m better at figuring out why it works rather than making it work. My dad was a welder, you know. He was like you, good with his hands and his brain.” Clay gave Storm a sad smile. “I tend to cut myself with safety scissors.”
Storm had stiffened at the mention of Clay’s father and forced himself to relax. The mention of the ghost in the room always sent that reaction through Storm’s system. The two of them had talked about the other man numerous times as part of their therapy, but it still never made it any easier for Storm to hear a memory like that tossed into casual conversation.
The fact that Clay could so easily mention his father, however, allowed Storm to calm. There would always be that unspoken pain between the two of them, but the idea that Clay could remember his father with a smile told Storm the other man had healed. Had grown.
Storm wasn’t sure he could ever heal the way others thought he should. It wasn’t as if he deserved to not feel the guilt, the pain. He’d ruined lives with one night of screeching metal and screams. He shouldn’t be allowed to move on like Clay had. The kid deserved peace. Storm, did not.
Clay seemed to notice Storm’s lack of verbal response and cleared his throat. “I wish you’d have brought Randy with you. I like when you bring your dogs in training.”
Grateful for the subject change, Storm grinned. “He’s a little too small to have around underfoot with all these boxes and moving parts. Randy, by the way, will stay with me permanently. I’m not training him for another family or patient.”
Clay’s eyes brightened. “Really? It’s been a while since you had a dog of your own.”
Storm shrugged and moved on to another box. “I thought it was time.”
There was a beat of silence before Clay spoke, his voice soft. “The dreams getting bad, then?”
Storm let out a slow breath. He hadn’t shared all of his secrets with Clay, but anything having to do with why they were connected was fair game. It was what he’d told himself twenty years ago when he’d first come around to make sure four-year-old Clay was okay.
“Sometimes. I tried meds for a while thanks to my therapist, but those didn’t help either.”
“Having a dog in the house might help, then?”
“Maybe.” He swallowed hard. “And if not, the damn pup is cute as hell, and his feet are far too big for his body. Ears, too. Makes me smile, so that has to count for something.”
“You got a picture?” Clay asked.
Storm reached into his pocket and shuffled through his photos on his phone until he came up with one where Randy sat on his butt, his head tilted and his floppy ears at a funky angle. He had his mouth open, and his tongue lolled out. Seriously, the puppy was too adorable for his own good, and it made training him to be a therapy dog hard as hell.
Storm lifted bubble wrap from the box in front of him and frowned when he noticed a photo on top of a frame. It wasn’t inside the frame like the rest of them, but rather, haphazardly placed in the box. But it wasn’t the setting that made him frown; it was the very familiar face in the photo. A face he hadn’t seen in three years. And there were dozens more photos in the box underneath that one. Dozens of photos of this woman and a man Storm thought he knew—with children surrounding them.
Storm’s throat went dry as he shakily took the photo out of the box, trying to comprehend what he was seeing.
The man stood with his arms around a younger woman, smiles on their faces as the man rested his hand on the woman’s round stomach. In any other situation, it would look like a normal pregnancy shot with a loving couple.
Yet there was nothing normal about this.
Jackson. That was Jackson’s face. Jackson’s body. Jackson’s arm around a pregnant woman that was not Everly. Who the hell was this woman, and why did Clay have a photo of Jackson—or a man that looked exactly like his dead best friend—in a box in his new home?
“What’s wrong, Storm? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
He gripped the photo hard, bending it, and let out a curse before forcing his hand to relax. “I think I have,” he whispered, his voice coarse. He held out the photo so Clay could see what he held in his hand. “Who is this?”
Clay frowned before his eyes went dark. “Oh. Him. Don’t you know him? You brought him by that one time, right? I totally forgot. That was the douche—may he rest in peace—who knocked up my aunt and never actually stayed with her. Jackson or whatever.”
Storm’s ears rang, his pulse racing. “I…I…I brought him around?”
Clay ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah. Once when you were on your way to a camping trip or something and wanted to stop by. It was a while ago, but my aunt Rachel was at my grandparents’ and she met Jackson. Apparently, they hit it off.” Clay scowled. “You never brought the guy back around and never mentioned him, so I figured you weren’t that close. And since even thinking about him pisses me off, I didn’t talk about him either. Why? What’s wrong?”
Storm took in deep breaths, trying to wrap his mind around what Clay was saying. He tried to remember when he’d brought Jackson up to Fort Collins and blanked for a moment until he remembered a long weekend about ten years ago. Jackson had been with Everly then, and Storm had been dating some woman named Susan. Both women had wanted to come with them but ended up having school or work get in the way, so he and Jackson had made it a guys’ weekend. Storm had wanted to stop by Clay’s to drop off his birthday present in person, and since Jackson was one of the only people who knew about why Storm hung out with Clay, he’d brought his friend along.
There had been a woman at the house, he remembered. Clay’s grandparents and aunt had been there to do an early birthday celebration. Rachel, Clay’s aunt, had been Everly’s age—young, pretty, with fiery red hair and smoky eyes. He hadn’t thought anything of it. Jackson had been dating Everly and had married her only a short time later.
“Are you saying Jackson is the father of your cousins?” he asked, his voice low.
Clay frowned. “Were you and Jackson still friends, then? I figured you weren’t since you never mentioned his kids.”
Because Storm hadn’t known Jackson had any beyond the twins. Holy shit. “Answer the question,” he barked.
Clay’s eyes widened. “I don’t know much since I don’t talk to Rachel. She’s a bitch.” He winced. “Sorry. But it’s true. She’s not nice, and never got along with my dad. But, yeah, she and Jackson dated off and on. They never lived together, but they had three kids together. The youngest is three, born a week or so before Jackson died.” He paused. “What’s going on, Storm?”
Three kids. Jackson had three kids with this other woman. And the entire time, he’d been dating or married to Everly. The youngest child was the same damn age as the twins. Holy hell. Storm didn’t know the man he’d called his friend at all. He couldn’t think, and he had no idea what he was going to do, but he knew he couldn’t do anything sitting on the couch next to Clay.
“I need to go.”
Clay stood up with him. “Hold on, man. Talk to me.”
Storm shook his head but held onto the photo. “I can’t. Not yet. I’ll tell you everything soon. I need to take this with me.” He held up the photo.
Clay waved it away. “Take it. I didn’t even realize the damn thing was in there. Are you okay to drive?” The younger man’s face paled as he said it, and Storm cursed.
He moved forward and gripped the other man’s shoulder. “I’m okay to drive. I promise. I just need to go. I’ll tell you everything soon.”
But he had to tell someone else first.
If he could.
“Text me when you get home,” Clay ordered, and Storm nodded before leaving. He had over an hour drive to think about what the hell he would do, and he knew he’d need even more time than that.
On the way down south, he kept his attention on the road, never one to simply think and let his mind wander when driving—not anymore. But even as he focused on the drive, he couldn’t quite comprehend what he’d just learned.
Jackson had another family? That just didn’t make sense. His friend had been a good man. A little scatterbrained at times when it came to doing household things or remembering bills, but he had always been so focused on his studies and research that Storm had forgiven him. Everly had done much of the same for Jackson, Storm remembered. She had taken care of the house and the bills. She’d done most of the preparation for the twins, though Storm remembered Jackson being excited—if a little lost—at the thought of becoming a father.
He gripped the steering wheel harder. But, in reality, it looked as though Jackson had already been a father three times over by the time he died and the twins were born. Shit. Rachel’s youngest was the same damn age as Everly’s boys.
How on earth had Jackson found the energy to keep two families?
Bile coated his tongue as the answer came to him.
Business trips. Jackson had taken countless trips for work, and though some of those must have been real since Jackson had died coming back from one, it was obvious not all of them were. There was no way he could have been out of town so much and not have been with Rachel some of those times. The idea that Storm had been the one to introduce them made him physically ill. He hadn’t known that that one meeting would forever alter not only his reality but Everly’s, as well.
He pulled into his driveway, sweat forming a sheen on his brow. He’d have to tell Everly. There was no way around it. He’d have to find a way to tell her, show her the photo, tell her his part in it.
Break her world wide open.
He couldn’t lie to her, and there was no way he’d be able to keep a secret this big from her, but he had no idea how he would find the right words. Were there right words for something like this? He didn’t know. And things had been awkward as hell since their kiss in her kitchen. He still didn’t know what he was going to do about it, but now it seemed all for naught. She’d want nothing to do with him once he told her what he knew. The ache that echoed in his chest at that thought told him more about what he felt for Everly than he dared admit.
He shut off the engine and looked to the right, frowning when he noticed Wes’s truck parked next to his. He’d been focused on parking without giving himself a headache and he’d missed the fact that his twin was probably in his house right now. Just what he didn’t need. More questions. More stares. More reasons for Wes to hate him because Storm couldn’t open up.
This, however, wasn’t his secret to tell.
He stiffly got out of the cab of the truck, his back aching something fierce, and closed the door behind him before gingerly making his way up to his front door. As soon as he opened it, he let out a sigh.
Wes lay in the middle of his living room, his arms up as he tossed a ball in the air so Randy could run around him and jump awkwardly to catch it. It wouldn’t have been an issue, but the puppy kept jumping on Wes’s belly and chest and probably other more sensitive areas to get the ball. That wasn’t the kind of training Randy needed, and Wes knew that—or at least Storm thought his twin did. That’s what happened when you kept secrets, you forgot what other people knew.
“Is there a reason you’re in my living room and letting my dog run wild?” Storm asked, throwing his key in the bowl by his door.
Wes grinned as Randy licked his ear and he sat up, his arms full of wiggling puppy. “I had a few things to go over with you, and since you weren’t here, I figured I’d hang out with my main man.” He rubbed Randy’s belly to the puppy’s obvious delight.
“You could have called,” Storm said before taking a seat on the couch. It took all his strength not to show the pain radiating down his spine. Hell, he needed a long bath tonight. He’d been terrible on his body for the past couple of weeks.
“I could have, but I wanted to see you anyway. See if you wanted dinner later or something.” Wes stood, setting Randy down at his feet.
Storm held out his hand, and Randy trotted over before sitting down on his rump at Storm’s command. He gave the puppy some love before Randy went back to Wes to play.
“What did you need to talk to me about?” Storm asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. “I’m exhausted. Can it wait until tomorrow?”
Wes blew out a breath. “What is up with you, man? You’ve been getting surlier recently, and retreating more and more into your own world. What’s going on?”
Storm shook his head. “Nothing,” he lied. “I’m just tired and had a long-ass day.” And needed time to himself to go over the ramifications of what he’d learned today.
“We need to talk about this project since Tabby is taking vacation with Alex, and Harper is on his honeymoon with Arianna. I need you to step in at the construction site. I can’t do it all on my own, and Tabby needs this time off with Alex because she hasn’t taken a break in years.”
That much is true, Storm thought. And she’d just gotten engaged to their brother, Alex, who had been through his own hell. They deserved time together away from the rest of the Montgomerys. He didn’t relish the idea of staying out of the office and hurting his back more, but he couldn’t blame everyone for needing time away to live. It wasn’t as if Storm had a family of his own.
“I’ll see what I can do,” he said finally.
Wes glared. “That’s it? You’ll see what you can do? First, you hire your girlfriend; now, you’re backing out? I thought we were partners, Storm, but you’re keeping secrets. We’re twins, remember? I can tell. But, apparently, I’m not good enough for you to confide in. Just make sure you don’t fuck up the business and our family as you’re trying to figure out what the hell is wrong with you.” Hurt filled his twin’s eyes, and Storm desperately wanted to tell him everything. But he hadn’t twenty years ago because of shame, and he couldn’t tonight either. Not after what he’d just discovered.
Wes pressed his lips together at Storm’s silence before letting out a long breath. “I wish you’d tell me, Storm. I’m still your twin.” And with that, his brother walked out, leaving Storm alone with his thoughts and his demons.
He was fucking everything up, and yet Storm knew the worst was yet to come.
It always was.
Chapter Nine
Everly ran her hand over Nathan’s hair and bent down to kiss his forehead. She’d already done the same to James, though she’d had to be careful thanks to his bandages. This was the first day they were home in their beds after the surgery, and it was their naptime. James needed more rest than usual as he healed, and Nathan had wanted to take a nap in solidarity. Her boys were breaking her heart, and she’d never loved them more than she did right then.
When her phone buzzed in her pocket, she frowned, wondering who it could be. She checked the screen, only to find it listed as Unknown. Normally, she’d let it go to voicemail, but since she was waiting on calls from her insurance company as well as the authorities, she answered quickly once she was out of earshot of the boys.
“Hello?”
No one answered.
“Hello?” she asked again.
There was a moment of silence before the call disconnected. She frowned.
That was weird. With a sigh, she put her phone back into her pocket and went back to what she was doing. She had a list as long as her arm to get through and no energy to do it.
Her back ached, and she hadn’t slept more than a couple of hours each night for the past few days, but sadly, she wouldn’t be allowed to join the boys in their nap. There just wasn’t time for that. Since she’d been in and out of the hospital with the kids, she�
��d gotten behind on household chores and other things on her to-do list. Not to mention the fact that James’s hearing tests and therapy were going to begin soon, and she needed to get the whole family prepared for that, as well. They were also taking ASL classes as a family because even if James’s surgery gave him the gift of hearing out of both ears, she wanted them all to be well rounded and have another skill to communicate with the world.
Of course, she also had to deal with paperwork and the fire marshal about her property since they still hadn’t let her inside to see the damage. That was a dark cloud hanging over her home, and she knew it might break her if she truly gave in to her worry.
She pressed her hand against her belly, her stomach roiling at the thought of everything she’d lost. She’d seen the outside of Beneath the Cover and knew there wouldn’t be much—if anything—to salvage. She’d spent years making that place another home for her, a refuge for those in need of books and new worlds, and now it was gone. She had no idea who could have burned her place to the ground, who hated her enough to do so. And if it weren’t for that note to Jackson she’d found in the mail, she might have thought it was just a random vandal. But now, she wasn’t so sure.
Someone knocked on the front door, and she winced, looking down at her sleeping babies and letting out a sigh of relief that they hadn’t woken up. She hurried to answer whoever it was so they wouldn’t ring the doorbell instead and truly wake everyone up.
She looked through the peephole, nervous energy coursing through her as she opened the door. “Storm,” she said softly. “I didn’t know you were stopping by.”
He had his hands in his pockets and a frown on his face. That wasn’t an entirely new look for him since he usually frowned around her—or didn’t show any emotion at all. Since Jackson’s death, the days when Storm smiled for her were rare. She let out a shaky breath, annoyed with herself for thinking about that right then.
Inked Expressions Page 8
