by D. B. James
“We’re going to need the hard stuff for this. No beer, just go straight for the whiskey,” I warn.
“Already ahead of you,” Rhys says as he hands me a bottle of Jack, keeping the other one for himself. “I figured we’d each need our own bottle.”
He takes a seat on the couch, and I take a chair opposite him. I’m facing him for this conversation. Breaking the seal on the bottle, I take a swig. It’s a burn I welcome.
“I’m going to start at the beginning. It’s a long story, but I’m going to spit it all out. It’s best if I do it that way, otherwise I won’t have the courage to keep going.”
He breaks the seal on his own bottle and also takes a swig. “Okay, I’m listening.”
Taking another drink, followed by a hearty swallow, I begin.
“My full name is Brant Vincent Ashley-Martinelli.” Pausing, I take another drink; I’m going to need all of it to keep going. Rhys’s expression is enough to kill. “Yeah, I can see the shock written across your face. Trust me, I’ve wanted to tell you since the day I found out. I was…restricted, let’s say, on who I could and couldn’t tell.”
Pausing, I take in a deep breath, let it go, and take another swallow.
“When I turned eighteen, I received a certified letter. What eighteen-year-old gets a certified letter? Anyway, it had my birth certificate inside along with a letter stating I was the product of a tryst gone wrong, and my real father would like to get to know me. Of course, his name was in there, but I didn’t give the letter another thought. I burned it, along with the birth certificate and picture that were also included. I knew who my dad was, and he wasn’t some dude named Vincent. Watching it go up in ashes, I figured I was in the clear. Yeah, he’d asked to meet me, but not until I finished college. I had four years to worry about it—or so I thought.
“Not long after, I received another letter. One of my professors gave it to me, actually, and along with it were the keys to a brand-new truck. He claimed it was a late graduation-slash-birthday present. I was eighteen, a poor college kid, and damn if I didn’t jump at the chance to own a new truck. I shouldn’t have. My accepting the truck was the same as my agreeing to meet this Vincent Martinelli.”
Rhys interrupts for one second to ask, “The same truck you passed down to me?”
“Guilty. It was a great truck, you needed wheels, and I had purchased another one by the time you came here a trained soldier.” Taking another long pull, I unravel it all, making sure to not leave out any details, until I get to the subject of his letters. “Your dad somehow found out about Martinelli. He, uh, didn’t want you back in his or your mother’s life. By knowing who my sperm donor was, he wielded power over me. He said he’d keep my secret if I kept your correspondence from reaching you. It was hard, man, but I didn’t want to break my dad’s heart. It was an impossible choice, but I had to make it.
“For years, I kept sending the letters and gifts back. It killed me to do it. When you gifted me with a trip to Cancun, I couldn’t keep the secret in any longer. My timing sucked, but at least it was out there. Not being able to fully explain gutted me. The reason I’m telling you now is that my contract is up in a couple of months. I’ll be free, my ten-year penance paid. I, uh, let it out earlier than planned, but I couldn’t let you in on my identity until I knew without a doubt you’d be safe from the fallout.
“I’m working with Justin to bring him down. There’s more to the story, the whys and hows of Cherry’s involvement, but I couldn’t let you not know now who my asshole of a father is. She’s in danger—real danger—and I need your help keeping her safe. She’s it for me, man, but I understand if you want to sever ties with me completely. I’ll leave peacefully and finish this job, as long as I know she’s safe. If knowing who I am means you have to take your friendship away, I get it.”
Placing my arms on my knees, I hang my head in shame. At least he knows now. It’s better for it all to be out in the open.
“Dickmunch, I love you like a damn brother. I’m not leaving you. It killed me not talking to you. It’s felt like I’ve been missing my left arm since the bomb was dropped back in Cancun. I’ll forgive you, and I’ll deal with the rest later. We can hash it out wrestling-style once everyone’s safe. Now, quit drinking, stand, and give your brother a manly hug—yes, manly—and go grab your girl to go to bed. You’re forgiven.”
Now whose mouth is open in shock—yep, mine.
“I’ve missed you so fucking much, turdburglar.”
With a hug, a bottle of Jack, and the truth, I had my brother back.
TESSA
Av and I are sitting on her bed while I fill her in on my budding relationship with Brant. We don’t hear any yelling coming from the living room yet, and I’ll take it as a positive sign.
“I think I’m falling in love with him,” I admit.
“Totally called it. Yes! This means I win and Rhys loses.” She throws a fist into the air, celebrating her ‘win’.
“You’re a jerk. I’m trying to confide in you, and you’re gloating. Worst best friend ever.” Leaning back into the pillows, I attempt to tell her about Brant, Mick, and this whole crazy messed-up shitstorm currently making up my life. “I was beat by my ex-dickhead. I’ve never told you because I’m ashamed, which in the end is what he wanted all along—for me to be ashamed, embarrassed, humiliated, and regretful. Now, though, I know it’s all on him. Without telling you everything—because let’s face it, it’s a lot to handle in one night—I’ll give you the condensed version.”
Av doesn’t say anything, just moves over from her place on the bed and lays her head on my chest, offering me her silent comfort. Placing my arms around her, I cuddle her while she cuddles me.
“This is why we’re best friends—you get me. Without me having to ask for it, you comfort me by staying silent and offering me your strength.”
“It’s what you do for the people you love, be there for them for the great times, the hard times, and everything in between, and I love you, Tess. I’ve been mistreated in the arms of a monster, so I can relate. I’ll continue to be quiet while you tell me whatever you wish. I know in time, you’ll tell me everything.”
Squeezing her a little tighter, I continue to tell her about the hell I lived through with Mick. By the time we get to Brant, it’s nearly an hour later. “I’m worried about the guys. They’re awfully silent out there. I mean, I want to tell you all about how incredible Ace is in the sack, but I’m curious as to how they’re doing. What he had to tell Rhys isn’t light. It’s a heavy burden he’s carried for nearly ten years.”
“Firstable, you need to give me all the details. Secondable, I’m also curious, and I vote we go check on them before you continue, and grab some snacks. I’m starving.”
Laughing, I push her off my chest with care. “We ate maybe an hour, hour and a half ago, max. My niece is going to come out a little porker.”
“Gah, you’re such a bitch, Tess. What does Brant see in you?” she quips as she attempts to get off the bed.
“Here, give me your hands. I’ll pull you up, because I’m cool like that.”
After nearly throwing my back out and two attempts later, we walk into the living room to see our men…laughing?
“Av, look…they’re laughing. Why do I feel like crying?”
“Duh, because our handpicked family is complete again.”
“Let’s leave them be for a few, grab some snacks for your endless appetite, and I’ll finish filling you in on how Ace is winning me over. His part of the story needs to come from him. I’ll tell you what I can for now, which happens to include the hanky panky details.”
Am I going to give her the details? Hell no. My sex life is private. I will tell her I’ve never had the connection I feel when in his arms. It’s the truth; I’ve never felt this cherished. As we walk into the kitchen, Brant spies me from his spot in the living room.
“Cherry, co-come see m…” He hiccups instead of finishing his sentence. Noticing the bottle of J
ack in his hand, I can see why. They’re drunk.
“I’m grabbing snacks for Av, she’s taking a potty break. From the sounds of it, it looks like you’ll be sleeping off a bender.”
“Well, after we—” He hiccups again. At this rate, he’ll never get out a full sentence.
“Rhys, are you as drunk as him, or can you actually finish a thought?” I ask.
“I’m three shots in, his bottle is nearly empty, so I’d say I’m definitely the soberer one. Let me clarify for this cockgobbler. What he’s trying to say is after we hashed things out for the night, we walked down the hallway only to find you ladies curled up together on the bed, crying. We decided to give you some time and thought drinking would be more fun.”
As he fills me in, Av comes waddling into the kitchen. She’s the cutest pregnant woman ever. Her shirt is partially up in the front, exposing the bottom of her pale tummy. Her feet are bare and swollen, and she’s simply beautiful. It’s true what they say about pregnant women—they glow.
“Being pregnant looks terrific on you, little mama.”
“Ugh, it does not. Have you seen my feet?” she complains while holding one out for me to examine.
“Yep, and they’re cute.”
“I tell her daily how beautiful she is. She doesn’t believe me either, so don’t be offended, Tess,” Rhys quips from the living room. “Uh…Brant appears to be passed out. Still want him in your bedroom?”
Do I? Hell yes I do.
“Yeah, he’s a mess, but I’ll claim him. If he throws up, you’re on cleanup duty though. I may like-love him, but I draw the line at cleaning up his puke.” My weak stomach would make a bigger mess.
“Deal. I’ll carry him to your room. It’s a good thing I stay in shape, because this heifer is heavy. I’ve lifted him plenty. Fireman’s carry always works best. I’ll be careful not to jostle him too much—we don’t want him tossing his cookies over my shoulder.”
“We don’t need him tossing them anywhere, and mainly not on my bed,” I point out.
“You like-love him? Which is it, you like him or love him?” Av asks.
“Huh?” I question.
“You told Rhys you ‘like-love’ him. I’m confused.”
“It’s what I feel. I’m falling in love with him, and it’s deeper than like.” In my head, it makes sense.
“Oh, okay then. Hand me the peanut butter and a spoon, please.”
Handing her the interesting snack, I walk over to help Rhys with my drunkard of a boyfriend. Once he’s settled in bed, I grab my pajamas and head into the bathroom to strip. I’m dead tired. Between all the running from Martinelli’s thugs and flying, I’m beat.
Making my way back into the bedroom, I stop in my tracks. Rhys is crying in the other room to Av. Hurrying the rest of the way to the guest bedroom, I close the door as quietly as possible, not wanting them to know I overheard their private moment. Snuggling under the covers, I place my head on Brant’s chest. He’s snoring, which I find comforting. Sharing a bed with him feels right.
It’s then I know I’m in love with him.
Chapter Eleven
Brant
Waking to the smell of coffee and bacon, I ask myself if I’m still dreaming. I’m a bachelor, so the only smell I’m used to waking to is the one of clean laundry coming off my sheets. Stretching, my arm hits something solid.
Cherry.
In my bed.
To make sure I’m not dreaming, I poke her.
“Umpf, stop hitting me, I’m trying to sleep,” she complains from my side.
“I’m sorry, Cherry. I was only checking to make sure you’re real.” Man, I have a killer headache.
Did I drink last night?
As the memories of the previous day slam into me, I lie back on the pillow and begin to panic. Somehow between all the talking things over, I forgot to fill everyone in on the new danger Tessa’s in.
My first instinct is to wake her to tell her first. My second is to fill Rhys in privately. Being the dumbass I am, I decide option two is the best for now. Worrying her over the details is more than she needs on her plate at the moment. I’ll tell her later. For now, she’s safer not knowing.
Slipping out of bed, I laugh to myself because I’m still fully clothed. Rhys must’ve carried me in here after I passed out. It’s what usually happens. He’s there whenever I need him, drunk or sober. Grabbing some fresh clothes, I head out and into the bathroom. I’m in desperate need of a shower.
All scrubbed up and smelling fresh, I enter the kitchen to find Rhys and Av drinking coffee at the dining table.
“Av cooked breakfast, and there’s enough for about twenty people. Then again, it’s you, so maybe I should set some aside for Tessa before you have at it,” Rhys jokes, knowing how much I love T-Lil’s cooking.
Grabbing a plate, I pile it high with bacon, eggs, pancakes, and fresh fruit. Setting it down, I go back to make a huge mug of coffee.
“Have any Tylenol handy?” I ask. “My head is pounding like someone’s in there with a jackhammer. How much did I drink last night?”
“Second drawer over from the sink on the left, and a whole bottle of Jack.”
Finding the pills, I grab four, figuring double the dosage should work twice as fast. As I’m sitting down to the table, Cherry breezes into the room. After she greets our friends, she looks and me, winks, sits, and grabs my plate.
“Thanks for breakfast, Ace.”
Getting up, I place a kiss on her forehead and make myself a second plate.
“If you can’t finish it, pass it my way when you’re done.”
“It’s Av’s cooking—trust me, I’ll eat it all,” she replies.
“Save room for some chocolate-covered cherries, Cherry,” I say while smirking at our inside joke. She knows I want to eat the candy off her naked body. If she’s good, I’ll share.
“Fill us in on her nickname. She’s always been Tess to me. Why Cherry?” Av asks inquisitively.
“She likes cherry lip balm.” I figure it’s enough info for them without going into the exact reason. “Rhys, when we’re done eating, care to take a drive to my place with me? I’d like to check things out before leaving town again.” Code for: we need to talk.
“Sure, I’ve given myself the next few days off. We have more to talk about anyway, correct?”
“You know it.”
An awkward silence fills the room, and I wonder if it’s because of my relationship with Cherry or if it’s my imagination. Either way, no one speaks a word. Cherry keeps sneaking sips of my coffee, and I like that she’s comfortable enough with me to do so. T-Lil stares at us like we’re a zoo attraction, and Rhys is attempting to clean up the mess from her cooking.
“Did you know she’s obsessed with the pandas at the zoo?” I ask to break the silence. I find it fascinating I’ve only recently learned of her panda love after knowing her for as long as I have.
“Did you meet Goa Goa?” Av asks.
Awkwardness broken.
The drive to my place later in the afternoon passes by quickly, aside from one fast stop at Starbucks. We’re walking up my steps as Rhys asks what’s truly going on.
“Spill it, douchenozzle.”
Sighing, I run my fingers through my hair in frustration.
“I’m in deep, man.” Unlocking and opening the door, I’m hit with the smell of stillness. Dust mites dance in the rays of sun shining through the living room windows. “Have a seat, it’s another long one. Want a beer?”
“Sure. It’s five o’clock somewhere, right?”
“A guy after my own heart,” I tease.
Grabbing a couple beers from the fridge, I hand one to him and plop down on the couch. “A few weeks of hotel living sure makes you appreciate what you have waiting back home, doesn’t it?” I ask.
“Hell yeah it does, although our honeymoon in Italy was spectacular. Those weeks were some of the happiest of my life. It may sound asshole-ish of me to say since I was pissed off at you at the
time, but I wouldn’t change a thing about our stay in Italy.”
“You don’t know how happy it makes me to hear you say those words. The last thing I wanted to do was ruin your honeymoon. The guilt was just too much for me to handle in Cancun, man. I couldn’t keep it to myself any longer. I’m aware of the fact that my timing was complete shit, but know my intentions were to never hurt. As effed up as it all sounds, I’m truly sorry, Rhys.”
“I’ve forgiven you. Now, tell me what you couldn’t in front of the girls.”
Popping the top on my beer, I settle in to tell him about Martinelli’s newest threat.
“He wants me to remain in his life after my time is up, and he says he’ll do anything to make sure that happens, including having my Cherry hurt, maybe as much as killed. He told me yesterday she’ll remain safe as long as I agree to a few calls, dinners, and family holidays. If I don’t, he’ll ‘have her taken care of’.” My knee won’t stop twitching; up and down, up and down it goes with my nervous energy.
“Okay, what are you going to do about it?” he asks.
“Destroy him,” I state. “I’ve been working with Justin to take down his organization, piece by piece—which reminds me, I should probably fill him in on leaving my sunglasses in Martinelli’s office.”
“Dude, did you bug his office?” Rhys asks, the excitement in his voice evident.
“Hell yeah I did.” When I hold my beer out to his, we toast. “I’ve been wearing bugs for the last few weeks. One of the main reasons I’m in San Diego is to work closely with the FBI agents there, since he’s based there more months out of the year than in Chicago. I’ve been having meetings with an endless circle of ‘family’ members to find out who’s to blame for all the issues he’s been having lately.” Pausing to take another sip, I continue, “He doesn’t know the person behind it all is his own flesh and blood.”
