by Brandi Evans
They were both silent a long moment. I took a tentative step forward, waiting—for what, though, I wasn't sure. Part of me couldn't argue with his logic. If it weren't for him, Théo wouldn't have attacked me. That was fact. The other part of me, though, wanted to run straight to him, slap him, and tell him to stop blaming himself. I sure as fuck didn't blame him.
In the end, I didn't have to. Garrett had my back.
"Stop letting your past own you," he said. "Tell Bree what happened with you and your father."
"I can't."
"Bullshit. You can. You just won't because you're too scared."
"Damn right, I'm scared. I can't lose her, Garrett." The fear in Max's voice tugged at my heart and drew me an inch closer.
"Then stop lying to her," Garrett continued.
"I'm not lying to her."
"You're not telling her the full truth, and from where I'm sitting, that's the same damn thing."
"I'm just trying to protect her."
"From you? Or from Théo?"
"Both," Max answered after a long hesitation.
I placed a hand to my heart, right where it was breaking. I didn't need protection from Max. Knowing he thought I might, though, slayed me.
"She doesn't need protection from you," Garrett said. "She needs total honesty. It's what she wants most from you."
"How do you know what my fiancée wants?"
I touched the ring on my right hand. Max wanted to marry me. He could have anyone, but he wanted me. The realization floored me every day. I'd just never heard him refer to me as his fiancée. I liked it.
"Karen and I have no secrets," Garrett answered simply.
Of course, Karen would have told Garrett what I'd told her. They had the kind of open honesty I hoped Max and I would have someday. Their relationship was so beautiful that I couldn't be upset with her for confiding in her husband.
"What makes our marriage work is complete openness. There's not a goddamn thing in the world I wouldn't tell her, wouldn't sacrifice for her. I love her more than anything, which's why I had to tell her what we'd done. She wanted to know all of me—the fucked up and the not fucked up—and she gave me all of her in return. That's what Bree wants from you."
"But my past—"
"Is fucked up. I get that. Hell, I know that because I lived most of it with you. The fucked up in your past mostly intersects with the fucked up in mine."
But you have to promise you'll keep our secret safe because, if you don't, it could destroy us.
"What if it's too much for her? What if she—" Max's voice broke. "What if she walks away?"
"That's her choice, and you'll have to accept it. It sucks, but it's reality. But for what it's worth, she's not going to walk, Max. She loves you. Karen didn't walk, did she? It was close, I'll give you that, but once the dust settled, confessing my sins to her only made us stronger."
"I can't lose her, Garrett."
"Then tell her. All of it. Every single bloody detail. Bare your fucking soul to that woman. Put your trust in her. She loves you, Max. You know it. I know it. Hell, anyone who looks at the two of you for half a second knows it."
"I know she loves me. I don't doubt that. But what if…" There was another heart-wrenching silence. "What if she doesn't love me enough to stay?"
"Then, she's not worth the agony you're suffering." Another pause. "I absolutely love Bree. It's not the same way I love Karen, and it's not the same way you love her. Hell, it's not even the same way I love you, but it's still love. And I trust her enough to share our secret with her."
Only silence and the never-ending rush and retreat of the ocean waves answered Garrett.
I crept right up to the cracked door, but I couldn't see either man. The line of sight wasn't right. I'd have to pass the threshold if I wanted to see the man I loved, but I was too scared. Fear of Théo and, now, fear of Max's past.
I'd wanted to know the pains my lover kept locked away. I wanted to share those pains so he wouldn't have to hold them alone. I wanted to be his rock, like he'd been mine, but uncertainty and terror were potent emotions. They messed with the mind and antagonized the senses. The sheer fear in Max's voice as he'd spoken of losing me, like a virus, had infected me, added to everything I'd carried with me since my attack.
What could be so terrible that he'd think I'd walk away from him?
What would be so terrible that I would walk away from him?
What have you done, Max?
I couldn't think about this now. My mind was a chemical battlefield, and the jet lag wasn't making things easier. I needed sleep. I needed time to process. I needed mental solitude.
I retreated back to the bedroom and crawled into the sprawling bed where Karen still lay sleeping. She was on her belly, her head facing the large bank of windows along the back wall that would, if only there were enough light outside, reveal the ocean.
I copied her position. Usually, I faced the other side of the bed—Max's side—but I couldn't face him tonight. I didn't want to see him when he came back. Not yet. Not until I could settle the storm inside me.
Chapter 5
He's here.
Lurking in the darkness.
Théo Roux.
Always stalking.
But tonight, Max is here, too.
Théo's chasing me. Max, too. My lover wants to give me something, but I don't want it. I run faster than I've ever run before. I'm panting when I reach a shoreline, movement behind me. They're still giving chase. I need to keep moving.
I spot a rowboat sitting in the sand. After pushing it into the water, I row out into the depths of the sea. I'm desperate to get away. Not from Max. Not really. I love Max, but I don't want what he's trying to give me. It terrifies me almost as much as Théo.
Théo's here somewhere, too. They're both coming after me, so I row and row and row and row until I can't anymore. My arms, weak with exhaustion, are trembling so badly that I can barely hold the oars. Only, now, surrounded on all sides by nothing but water, do I allow myself to collapse onto the floor of the boat.
Wait, do boats have floors?
No, the deck.
Whatever it's called, I lie there, lungs burning and staring into the endless blue sky—except the sky isn't blue anymore. It's black as night. No, not night; it's just… black. A pure darkness with no stars, no moon. Nothing. And that void descends on me until there's only the rocking and hum of the churning ocean.
Lost in the labyrinth of nothing, I scramble back into a sitting position and fumble for the oars, but I only end up knocking them overboard. I feel blindly through the water, desperate to find them. I need them. I'm stuck, helpless without them.
Suddenly, something grabs my wrist. I yank my hand away, but whatever has me—its grip is relentless.
"No, don't. Let me go."
Heart pounding, I grab the side of the boat with my other hand to steady myself, but something comes out of the water and grabs that wrist, too. I'm shackled on both sides. I yank, I jerk, but I'm bound.
Helpless.
"No. No!"
I can't get free. I'm being lifted into the blackness by an unknown assailant, some force I can't see. How do I fight something I can't see?
"Bree. My sweet. You're having a nightmare. Wake up. Come back to me. Come back…"
I shot straight up in bed. A cold sweat had broken out, and I was shivering. With eyes caught between the waking world and the world of dreams, I looked around and tried to get my bearings. My surroundings were wrong.
"Where am I?" Panic shook my words.
"We're at Karen and Garrett's," said the gentle voice that was always there after the nightmares. "We're in their bed. We flew here yesterday, remember?"
I blinked once, twice, and then, everything came back in a morass of images. Max's mom had died. We'd flown to the Isle of Wight. The funeral home. Arriving at Karen and Garrett's. Dinner. The sex. All the sex. Overhearing Max and Garrett's conversation.
Overwhelmed by the intensity o
f the memories flooding back or maybe by the lingering terror left from the nightmare—or both—I shook harder. The shift in my dreams—god. He'd wanted to "give me" the secret of his past, but I hadn't wanted it. The irony wasn't lost on me. I'd always told him I wanted all of him, to know all his secrets, but after overhearing his conversation with Garrett, his secrets terrified me.
Max ran a soothing hand along my arm and tugged me back to him. "Lie back down with me, my sweet."
I didn't argue. I snuggled against him like a frightened kitten burrowing against its mother during a thunderstorm. God, I hated the nightmares, but the "in-between" was worse. Those terrible moments when the dream still had its claws in me, but reality was slowly coming back, I hated, hated, hated it.
"Better?" he whispered after a while.
"Define better?"
He kissed my temple. "Anything more I can do to help?"
I lifted my head and looked at him. Yesterday's shadows still played in his eyes, but concern for me played there, too. He was struggling, but no amount of struggle could interfere with his need to care for me. I loved him for that. We may have a lot of things we still needed to work through but not now. Not here. I needed to banish the rest of this darkness, and there was one surefire way that worked every time.
"You can make love to me," I whispered. "I always feel better when we're together. Really together."
He kissed me long and deep before rolling me beneath him with the practiced precision of lovers who knew the other's body, the other's needs inside and out. He had my—well, technically his—shirt splayed open in a matter of seconds, and then, we were naked against each other.
He pushed inside me with a languid slide that was better than any drug. Max was my drug of choice. He was my safe space. It probably wasn't healthy, but I needed it. I needed him.
The four of us ate a late lunch on the patio. I still felt off kilter, a little leftover residual trauma from the nightmare and a little residual circadian rhythm disruption from jet lag. The afternoon air had a bit of a bite to it, but nothing my latte and my beloved "Make Fit Happen" sweatshirt couldn't combat.
This sweatshirt and yoga pants combo was my favorite "lounging around the house" outfit. I hadn't set them on the bed to be packed, but I was glad Mrs. Higgins had thought to add them for me. They made me feel like a total slob next to Karen, but I didn't care.
She wore an off-the-shoulder purple sweatshirt and a pair of gray leggings. She'd spent the morning in her studio, and paint speckled her hands and clothes. She was still breathtaking.
Garrett wore his usual jeans and a T-shirt. His dark hair hung in loose waves and worked with his full sleeves of tattoos to give him the bad boy vibe I liked. I didn't call him Max's evil twin for nothing.
Not for the first time, I was struck by the striking counterpoint he made to his wife. The bad boy and the classically gorgeous princess. Given their looks alone, one might think their relationship shouldn't work, but like with many things, looks were deceiving. I'd never met a couple as open, honest, and perfect for each other as Karen and Garrett Lanyon.
Max wore a pair of khaki slacks and a blue and white striped polo. His feet were bare. If I didn't know the man better, I'd say he was dressed for a day of warm sun and frolicking on the beach. Actually, I wished sun and frolicking were the only things on our agenda today. A day of frivolous, non-brain-engaging fun would be heavenly.
Max, however, had an appointment at the funeral home in a couple hours. He still needed to work out some details with Mr. Abbott. Plus, Max had some conference calls he needed to make today, too. World domination didn't stop, even for the death of his mother. I hated that for him.
"I need to run into town in a bit and pick up some more paint," Karen said, leaning toward me. "If you're interested, I'd love the company. I can even give you the grand tour of Max's hometown."
"I'd love to," I answered automatically. Despite the circumstances, this was my first time in another country, and I wanted to see everything.
"Wonderful! Alum Bay isn't exactly a metropolitan jungle, but I love it. Things are a bit more exciting when we're at the peak of tourist season, though. You'll have to make plans to visit us early next summer."
"I'd love that, too." Max had told me Alum Bay was a popular seaside resort town.
"Hopefully, there won't be another summer cold spell like we had a couple weeks back."
"Entire goddamn heating and air system crapped out," Garrett interrupted. "Had to call someone in to fix it." He let out something that was a cross between a chuckle and a grunt. "The whole thing was a mess. Took forever for the repair crew to fix everything. I swear they were here for a week messing around in the ductwork."
Karen placed a hand on her husband's. "They were here for two days, darling."
Garrett shrugged. "Felt like a fucking week."
Karen turned back to me. "The nights were so cold. Let's just say I'm glad there's a fireplace in the bedroom and that I have a husband capable of keeping me very warm in bed."
"I aim to please, my heart." With a feral glint in his eyes, Garrett pulled his wife in for a quick, hard kiss.
I looked away, giving them a moment of privacy. Seeing Max's old stomping grounds was the perfect opportunity for me to get away for a few hours and think. Last night's overheard conversation had been playing in my head on a constant loop.
A sudden thought struck. What if Max needed or wanted me here with him? He'd put much of his life on hold to take care of me after my attack. Didn't I owe him the same kindness and consideration?
I knew the answer even as I turned to him. "Would you rather I stay with you? If you need me, you know I'd rather be with you than—"
"Yes, I do know." He took my hand, drew it to his lips. "I'll be fine, Bree. Really. Go with Karen and have some girl time."
"Are you sure? I don't have to. I can stay here with you."
"I know you would if I needed you. And that thought means everything."
I touched his face, but I didn't speak. Oh, this man. How it was possible to feel so many conflicting emotions about a single person boggled my mind.
"Are you absolutely positive?" I asked.
"I'll be fine. I promise. Besides, Garrett and I have some things we need to do today after I speak with Mr. Abbott."
Did the things he and Garrett need to do have anything to do with their conversation the night before? Were they going to the police station to speak with the inspector he'd mentioned?
Before I could ask, Max continued. "Actually, how about you and Karen go to the spa after you get her paint?"
An inkling of memory teased its way to the surface. "This wouldn't happen to be the same spa you once told me about, would it? The one you said you and Garrett used to frequent? The one that smelled of orange blossoms?"
"The very same."
Instant mood lift. "Now that sounds perfect!" I'd get to see his hometown and visit a place that had meant a lot to him.
"Then it's settled." Max kissed my knuckles. "I'll call ahead and make sure you have appointments. I'll also make sure arrangements have been made for your safety. Then, afterward, Garrett and I can meet you at the pub for dinner. Karen knows the place."
"Sounds perfect! And arrangements can be made on such short notice?" I asked. "I don't want to be a bother."
"You're never a bother, my sweet, and no, it won't be a problem."
"Are you sure?"
Karen's laughter flittered across the table. "Of course, it's not a bother. My darling Bree, who do you think owns the spa now?"
I stared at her and then back to Max. "Oh my god, is there anything you don't own?"
He simply shrugged.
I looked out the backseat window of one of Max's Cadillac Escalades, only halfway listening to Karen as she spoke fondly of the village she'd called home her entire life. In the front seat, a woman I didn't know well veered the vehicle along lazy roads. Scott Washington sat in the passenger's seat. Another Escalade rolled in front of
us, another behind. Max had sent, at least, half his security detail to shadow me, but I wasn't sure if that made me feel safer or more scared.
Max thought Théo was here.
Somewhere.
I willed the panic attack lurking in the back of my mind to stay away. I was so done with letting it own me.
"And over there," Karen said, reclaiming my attention. She was pointing to a corner pub with a rustic, dark-wood exterior accented by flashes of bronze. "That's the Drunken Goat. It's where we're going to meet our boys for dinner."
Our boys? Her words made me smile—as did their implication. Would I never stop discovering new and exciting layers of our relationship?
God, I hoped not.
The name of the pub tugged on a thread of memory. Something related to Max, something he'd said at the very beginning of our relationship. "Wait, Max mentioned once he owned a pub in Dallas with that name, the Drunken Goat. He said it was like a little piece of his youth. Is the one in Dallas based on this one?"
"I'd imagine so." Her lips turned up. "Max bought the place years ago when the long-time owner planned to retire. Said he couldn't bear to see the place close. The three of us made so many memories there."
A smile curved my own lips. "Then I'm glad I'll get to see it." Max had so much darkness in his past, but if this place brought him pleasure, I certainly hoped tonight's meander down Memory Lane would be a healing balm for his battered soul. "Tell me, Karen, what's your best memory of the Drunken Goat? Give me a little preview of what to expect tonight."
"Oh, that one's super easy. It's where I met my husband."
We were both laughing as the SUV turned onto a quaint two-lane street lined with shops. I felt as if we'd driven onto a movie set. Most of the shops stood two stories, and none looked like the building next to it. This wasn't some cookie-cutter strip mall. No, these buildings were old; they looked as if they'd been built, added on to and maintained with love over decades—if not a century.
"Wow." I pressed my face to the glass like a kid at a drive-through safari, and I didn't care if I looked like it. "I didn't think places like this existed in real life."
