Wyatt (Lane Brothers #1)

by Kristina Weaver

  Boy, I hope Wyatt still looks at me that way when I’m old and graying.

  “Ellie, darling, Wyatt needs to talk to you, but the boy is afraid.”

  He leaves without clarifying and I look to Jude for an answer.

  “I think it’s time for me to tell you what happened when Wyatt first laid eyes on you,” she says, sighing tiredly.

  I find myself swallowing past a dry, swollen throat when my nerves tense up in anticipation of bad news.

  “Talk.”

  She shakes her head and rises to refill our cups and grab a plate of biscuits. The poor things are harder than rock and require more than a dunking or ten before I can bite and swallow without killing myself, but I don’t have the heart to tell her that she’s created a flop of mega proportions here.

  Not even my poor Goofball would eat these, and she’d eat a shoe on a good day.

  “Wyatt and Bolton were always at odds with each other since they were kids. Bolton hated Wyatt because my son was one of those people who just seemed to excel at everything without much effort. Not that he didn’t work his ass off to get to where he is, mind you. George never paid a cent towards any of the boys’ college tuitions, and they all worked from the age of sixteen. But, anyway, they just did not get along.

  “That’s why when Bolton finally went off to college in Philadelphia, we thought things would be better.” She sighs tiredly, looking down into her coffee cup.

  “I take it they did not get better?”

  “Why no, dear, they got worse. See, Jerry, Bolton’s father, married Lynn Lane and decided never to set foot in an office again. The man spent his life living high on the hog and teaching his son to do the same. But it was at a price, because no matter how much they tried, they were no better than us.”

  Bolton must not have liked that one bit, I think, watching Jude’s eyes cloud over and tear.

  “Jerry wanted more, better…turns out he was just jealous of George and used his resentment of all of his success to turn his son into a little asshole,” she growls, making me giggle behind my hand before I can stop myself.

  She smiles kindly at me and waves away the apology I try to offer.

  “He was a little asshole, honey, so no apology needed. Now where was I? Oh yeah, he was a tyrant when it came to that boy of his, and every time Bolton lost to any of my boys, he’d have a go at him. Unfortunately, any time the boys got together and played, Wyatt always won. He was older, stronger, and better liked by his little brothers, because—”

  “He was kind,” I finish.

  Of all the things I’ve seen in him, it’s his kindness and need to help others that gets to me the most. Wyatt is kind to the core and no one could be better in my eyes.

  “Yeah, he’s always gone out of his way to protect the littler ones and help where it’s needed. Bolton hated that, hated that he was more popular, stronger, more likely to succeed at everything he did, and that sentiment started a one-sided rivalry between the two.”

  I can so see that without any trouble. Bolton was not a nice person, and he hated losing in any way. One of his girlfriends once complained that he sucked in bed because he refused to let her come first.

  The thought makes me giggle now and I shake my head thinking of all the progress I’ve made in so short a time. Used to be that I couldn’t even think his name without breaking out in a cold sweat.

  “What happened?”

  “Well, by the time Bolton went off to college, Lynn and Jerry were in a financial mess. Jerry made a lot of bad investments on top of spending his wife’s money like it was a never-ending well of wealth. George ended up settling some more money on his sister and paying for Bolton’s education. And still, the boy refused to even try. He failed one year so poorly that George had to donate money to the school so he could stay.”

  Not a surprise. Bolton was well put together and stylish, that’s a fact, but the man was dumber than a stump on a good day.

  “After that we started keeping tabs on him. He was drinking, doing drugs, and not going to class and George was so mad. Anyhow, he sent Wyatt to talk to his cousin and get him back in line, a mistake we both regret more than anything in the world now. We should have known that sending him would make things worse, but George was just so angry, and Wyatt, he never loses his cool, so we thought…”

  “You thought he’d shame Bolton into working harder,” I finish for her.

  “Yes. He went and spoke to the idiot, but Bolton just got so angry and refused to listen, something Wyatt confessed didn’t surprise him one bit. But I digress, I need to tell you my favorite part, the part where my son was standing in the middle of the common, trying to reason with his no-good cousin. You see, that’s when he first saw you.”

  I’m fit to catch flies my mouth falls open so wide, and for a minute, I swear I just heard her wrong. No way, no. How would I have forgotten a man like Wyatt if I laid eyes on him four years ago? No way.

  “But, but how? I never saw him.”

  I’m so confused and just…adrift with this information. Is this what Wyatt didn’t want me to know? But it’s so…sweet to think that he saw me across the way and fell for me.

  Is that even possible?

  “Oh dear, you were far away from him and Bolton. Wyatt saw you, though, and made up his mind to find out who you were so that he could get to know you. I’ve never heard or seen him so excited and downhearted at the same time.”

  “What? I don’t understand.”

  My heart’s beating because I’m terrified that I do understand; I just don’t want the thoughts in my head to be true.

  “He saw you and wanted you, Ellie. I swear it was love at first sight for that boy. But you turned and walked away before he could talk to you, and by the time he was done with his cousin, he just…left. He had you investigated later with some thoughts as to planning a ‘coincidental meeting’ or something. Till he found out that you were in mourning. You know Wyatt by now.”

  Yes I do. He would have realized what I was going through and backed off out of respect.

  “Okay. Explain to me what’s got him so scared now, Jude.”

  “Well, honey, the truth of it is that Bolton never would have taken a second look at you if not for Wyatt’s reaction to you. Bolton was more into the bimbo-type girl and wouldn’t have seen you if you weren’t standing right in front of him. It was Wyatt’s interest that pointed you out to him.”

  So if not for Wyatt looking at me, I would have been just fine. Bolton would have left me alone, and I would never have gone through all this.

  I’d have lived a normal life with normal friends and normal reactions to things instead of being a messed-up version of a woman I didn’t want to be.

  “He did that to me because of…”

  “To hurt Wyatt, Ellie. He did everything and anything to hurt my son, and you were just one of the many tools he used to do it. His hatred was so deep and festered that for him, hurting you even though Wyatt never went near you was enough to fill his sadistic fantasies.”

  I think I’m going to be sick. No, I know I am when it hits me that not only does a small part of me blame Wyatt for it, but he blames himself, too.

  “I-I need to go lie down,” I stammer, swaying to my feet with effort when I feel my head go fuzzy.

  “Ellie—”

  “No, Jude, don’t, I-I need to go lie down and think about this for a bit. Don’t, don’t say anything yet. Please,” I beg.

  She nods and closes her eyes.

  “I’ll be right here when you’re ready to talk, dear.”

  I flee upstairs and collapse on the bed in a mess of silent tears and so much turmoil and emotion, it’s almost choking me.

  How could he do this to me? This is all his fault!

  But what exactly did the man do other than look at you across the distance and maybe wonder who you are and what you were doing?

  He’s not to blame for any of this, and I know it. Everything that happened to me was the product of one sick,
hateful person who twisted Wyatt’s interest in me and used me to hurt him.

  I have no doubt that Wyatt would have been hurt and near frantic when he learned about what his cousin did and recognized me.

  To make matters worse, I also feel a small kernel of resentment. It may be unreasonable, I know, but I can’t get over the fact that if he’d just spoken to me, none of it would have happened.

  We would have hit it off immediately, no doubt, and I would have been protected before that slimy snake put his filthy mitts on me. But…doesn’t it say something good about the man that he’d not been willing to take advantage of me while I was weak and mourning my lost family?

  I lie on the bed and cry silently. I know that the desperation I’ve been seeing in Wyatt lately is a result of his anxiety about me knowing the whole truth and the guilt he’s holding on to.

  I also find it in myself to cry for Bolton, the monster in my dreams, under my bed, in my head, because I can’t help thinking that if not for that useless father of his, he may have grown up to be a better person than the sick, twisted husk who had no qualms about hurting me.

  By the time I dry my eyes and take a breath to stop my sobs, I’ve made up my mind to just let it all go and try from here on out to live in the present.

  No, I won’t forget what happened, but I’m not going to let it rule another minute of my life. Never again. I have a man who loves me, whom I love just as much in return. I have the family I’ve needed for so long. But most of all, I have me, the Ellie I used to be who saw only the good in people and tried to overcome grief because I only have one life and I’d been determined to live it the way my family would have wanted me to.

  That’s what I’ll do. I will live every day as if it were the last I have, and screw anyone who so much as thinks to take that from me. Bolton is gone and I won’t allow his ghost to control me anymore.

  Good for you, El. Now go get our man and lay the truth on him, why don’t ya?

  I need to go and tell him that instead of blaming him like he thinks I will, like I wanted to earlier, I feel like he’s saved me.

  With my heart a whole lot lighter, I jump up and run for my man, feeling lighter than I have in ages.

  I’m going to be a wife and mother soon, and I find myself a little grateful to Bolton. If not for him, Wyatt and I wouldn’t be here, in love and ready to live a life Bolton will never have.

  Chapter Thirteen

  Wyatt

  “What the hell are you saying, Jared?”

  This can’t be right, none of it can be true. He throws the file at me and I read it, knowing that it is true.

  “The guy he hired wasn’t supposed to hurt Ellie. He finally broke yesterday—last night, to be exact—and spilled it all. Jerry hired the guy to watch over Ellie.”

  “I don’t, I can’t understand any of this shit,” I snarl, pulling at my hair in frustration. “You intercepted those letters and packages at her apartment. You read the threats and got rid of enough dead animals to know that Ellie was being targeted.”

  “Yeah, and like you, I assumed that it was Jerry out of revenge, man. I mean, he was the most likely, the only suspect when we first started looking into things. I, like you, assumed it was him trying to scare her. Then when he hired Sten, I thought it was a hit. The guy isn’t exactly on the up and up.”

  “But it’s true, bro. We heard it from Sten, himself. Jerry hired him to be her tail and make sure no one hurt her.”

  “Why? He can’t know that Bolton isn’t dead, so he can’t be thinking that he’s still a danger to Ellie!”

  I’m yelling at them as I jump up and start pacing back and forth, my mind running at a mile a minute with the confusion and disbelief coursing through me.

  It’s true that Bolton isn’t dead, even if he is dead to me. He’s actually locked away in a little prison in France, never to see the light of day again.

  When I heard that Bolton wasn’t in school for a few days and my own guy came back to tell me that Ellie was missing, I’d started searching for them both.

  I’d be damned if the little shit died of a drug overdose and hurt poor Aunt Lynn, and I searched for Ellie because I fully suspected her to have gone off somewhere to get away and mourn and I didn’t want her to be alone with her grief.

  Imagine my horror when I finally tracked Bolton down and arranged a meeting with him, only for him to laugh his ass off at me and tell me what he’d done.

  I’d beat him almost unconscious while trying to find Ellie at that point, only to get to that little shack in the desert and find it empty. We’d learned later that she had escaped and made it to a little town not far away, and they got her to the hospital in time to treat her for dehydration, malnourishment, and extreme mental distress.

  Bolton…he was another story, altogether.

  I’d been so pissed, I’d wanted to kill him with my bare hands and would have at some point; the rage was that strong. Jared had stopped me and suggested a more fitting punishment. I contacted an old army buddy and set things into motion.

  Bolton now lives out his days locked in a cell smaller than my closet with nothing to do and no one to talk to. Last I heard, he was mad as a hatter and needed medicating most of the time to prevent self-harm.

  We faked his death, only to give his parents closure and to stop the police from looking for the man.

  I know that it’s not Jerry sending Ellie death threats and trying to scare her, but it couldn’t be Bolton…could it?

  “Get ahold of Case and have him call Jean Louis. I want to know everything that’s going on with that piece of shit Bolton and I want to know now.”

  I look over at my brothers too late and notice their winces and Jace’s curse. I know before I turn fully that she’s standing in the doorway and has heard it all.

  “Ellie.”

  She’s white as a sheet and trembling hard enough that I’m surprised she’s still standing and not on the floor in a dead faint, but I should know by now that my baby is made of stronger stuff.

  Her spine literally stiffens and she narrows her eyes at me in anger.

  “I think you have some explaining to do, Wyatt Lane, and I swear to God, if you lie to me even once about anything, I‘ll be gone so fast you won’t believe it.”

  Shit, shit, shit.

  “Ellie, baby, I—”

  She ignores my pleas and marches in, slamming the door with a resounding bang that makes me wince, and look to my brothers for help.

  “Oh hell nah, bro, I told you to tell her everything before she found out by herself. You should have taken my advice. Ellie, sweetheart, don’t kill him or nothing, okay? He’s a fool, dumber than a post most days, but he’s a fool for you so he deserves at least a smidgen of understanding for his stupidity,” Miah quips, giving me a wink before rising and tilting his head at the door.

  “Awww, I want to stay and watch her rip him a new asshole. Please?” Jace begs, laughing his ass off at my growl and Jared’s slap upside his head.

  “Get the hell out of here and stay out till we’re done,” I snarl.

  I’m sweating buckets as they clear the room and close the door behind them, leaving me alone with a rabid animal in the form of the woman I love.

  Have I mentioned yet that this entire day has been a cluster fuck from beginning to end? That’s the trouble with lying to your loved one, though, and I knew it then as I know it now.

  I knew she’d find out sooner or later and come charging at me with fire in her eyes. I was just praying it would be later, much later, after maybe a kid or two and a lot of loving.

  Damn.

  “Ellie.”

  “No! I just spent an hour with Jude telling me about the first time you saw me and failed epically to introduce yourself, thereby wasting years of our lives when we could have met and been together all this time. Now I walk in to hear you saying that Bolton isn’t dead? What the hell is going on, Wyatt?!” she screams, taking a step back when I instinctively move to pull her into my arms an
d comfort her.

  A lot of her reaction is anger, I know it is, but she’s still trembling so violently that she’s forced to fall into a chair lest her knees buckle. I hate that she’s afraid, and hate even more that I’m to blame for most of it.

  “El, I…just….I couldn’t kill him, okay! I wanted to. I tried to do it and avenge you, but…I’m too weak, Ellie. I couldn’t do it. Forgive me.”

  The shame I feel is enough to have me hating myself all over again, because it’s yet another example of my failure. Any man worth his salt would have beat the fucker to death with his bare hands, and I’ve had to stop Jace from flying to France and doing just that.

  But for some reason, and as much as I want Bolton to suffer, I find myself unable to kill him or sanction his death.

  “What? You think I wanted you to kill him?” she breathes in horror, shrinking back into the sofa cushions and looking at me as if I’ve lost my marbles. “We’re not animals, Wyatt, and I would never agree with you doing something that unforgivable.”

  “But, baby, he hurt you and it was all my fault and I—it was my job to make him pay for it. I just—”

  She’s up and slapping me in the next instant, her little palm connecting so hard, I see stars as she stands glaring at me, her breath coming in angry puffs and snarls.

  “Don’t you ever say that to me again, Wyatt Lane! You are not to blame for a minute of Bolton Conrad’s actions and you know it! Stop feeling sorry for yourself and man up already.”

  “But he wouldn’t have gone for you if not for me.”

  What’s wrong with her? Why can’t she see that this is my fault?

  “And the sky wouldn’t be blue but for whatever the hell it is that makes it blue! Come on, Wyatt, think logically for a minute instead of always being so hard on yourself, you idiot. Yeah, maybe he did what he did because of you, but I’d met Bolton before that, and he wasn’t exactly disinterested in me, if you know what I mean.

  “He could have decided even then to do what he did, who’s to say? The truth is that we’ll never know unless he confesses it all, and from the way he was snapping even then, I wouldn’t be surprised if he wasn’t nuttier than hell already. He did what he did because he was a bad person, and that’s the long and short of it, so stop blaming yourself and get over it already. I have.”