Fools Rush In (Cartwright Brothers Book 2)

by Lilliana Anderson

  He shook his head. “I don’t know. Find him. Drag him back. Make him clean his own goddamn mess.”

  “Good,” I said, pressing a kiss to his temple. “I think that’s exactly what we should do. The last I heard, running wasn’t the Cartwright way. And we certainly don’t make our loved ones pay for our mistakes.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Worse Things To Be

  Once Toby came to, he explained that Nate had wanted to win Holland back. She could handle the fact that he was a thief, but she couldn’t forgive him for helping supply drugs.

  “She mentioned the downward spiral of your mother and its effect on you as her reason, Leesh,” he said, making me wonder if perhaps I’d been reading Holland all wrong these past months since we’d met the Cartwrights. I knew I had a tendency to do that. I’d assumed so much, and I had doubted Holland’s intentions all along, hadn’t I? I’d twisted them into actions fuelled by jealousy and unkindness when maybe that wasn’t the case at all. To find out she left her marriage because she witnessed how awful it was for me to lose my mother to drugs… wow. Maybe I was the one who needed to get the log out of my eye. Perhaps her concern all these months was real and not the twisted bragging I’d taken it to be. She’d been my only friend for years, my shield to the outside world, and I’d loved her like a sister.

  I thought she didn’t have room for me in her life anymore. Showing compassion over something that had so deeply affected me told me she did. I felt like I’d been a horrible friend, and for the first time in months, I really wanted to make amends with her.

  Toby continued telling us how Nate organised new identities for them both and bought them a house in a city called Portland. I’d heard of it before—it was the location of the state’s oldest European settlement and had once been a busy fishing town. Now it was a quiet little seaside town, a perfect place for a woman like Holland to shine in.

  “And what does he plan to do down there? Go straight? He hates earning an honest living,” Sam said.

  “He wants to open a bookshop. He and Holland are obsessed with reading.”

  “He is?” Sam asked, looking like that was the first he’d heard of it.

  Toby nodded. “The man loves books. He’ll read anything with a good story.”

  “Wow. I had no clue.”

  “I’m starting to get why Holland fell so hard for him,” I said.

  Sam gave me a fast look. “You wish I read more?”

  I smiled and threaded my fingers into his hair. “No, you’re fine. I just never understood what Holland saw in him. But I’m starting to. She loves to read, she’s always dreamt of owning a book store, and she always wanted a man who would make her the centre of his universe. It looks like she got it.”

  It seemed I’d also judged Nate far too harshly too. When we saw them again, after we’ve sorted out our drug dealer problem, I promised myself I’d make more time for them. They were family, after all.

  It was about three in the morning when we were finally done cremating the remains. We left with them in a snap-lock bag that we emptied inside a storm water drain, figuring that was the best place for men like Simon and Bruno.

  Exhaustion didn’t even come close to describing our state when we made it back to Torquay. We’d stayed awake by talking about everything and anything. Toby told us of his dream to own a fishing business that was in no way connected to the family ‘business’. Sam admitted to feeling lost most days, wondering what the point of everything was because it seemed like there’d never be an end.

  “I think that’s part of the reason I was so keen to have a family in the beginning. I feel like this life won’t end for me until I have kids to pass it all on to. I don’t want to be sixty and climbing through windows to steal shit,” he’d said.

  It made sense. I wasn’t sure how excited I was at the thought of having children for the purpose of growing the criminal empire, but I supposed there were worse things to be in life—like a drug dealer.

  “What are we going to do when more drug dudes turn up here, looking for the ones we got rid of tonight?” I asked Sam once we’d showered away the day and fallen into bed. We didn’t even have the energy to make love, which was a first for us.

  “Drug dudes?” He chuckled and then grew serious, drawing small circles along my arm with his fingertips. “We’re going to Portland in the morning. We’re going to make Nate come back and clean up his mess.”

  “Do you think we’re going to have to kill them all?”

  His fingers stopped and he let out his breath. “I hope not, peaches. This family has had enough death for a while.”

  Chapter Thirty-One

  I’m Not Sorry

  Toby stayed back with the twins and Jasmine while Sam and I drove down to Portland. We didn’t tell any of the others that Nate was still alive. Sure, it would’ve eased their grief, but it’ve have increased their suffering—especially Jasmine. It would’ve devastated her to learn that her own son would rather have her believe he was dead than trust her with his scheme. No, it was better if we went alone. Sam could convince Nate, and I could convince Holland. We hoped.

  “This is quite the house,” I said when we pulled up outside the large sand-coloured home directly across from the ocean (those Cartwrights certainly loved their ocean views). It had taken us almost four hours to get there.

  “You interested in a place like that?” Sam asked, leaning down to take in the view.

  “It’s not too different from the Torquay place, really. Just a little smaller. And it would all depend on the surfing. If we ever buy a place all of our own, it has to have great surfing and lots of one-way windows so we can walk around naked all day.”

  He bit his lip and groaned. “You’re making me hard. Maybe we should go find a hotel or something, deal with this after some alone time.”

  I grinned. “I think we should do this first. Waiting makes that other thing so much sweeter.”

  He sighed. “OK, but don’t be shocked if I punch my brother in the face.”

  That’s exactly what he did.

  “The fuck,” Nate yelled, clutching the side of his face. He didn’t stumble from the force of it, so I’d give him that.

  “The fuck?” Sam responded, his voice booming. “The fuck? I don’t think I need to tell you what that was for, brother.” Placing his hand on Nate’s shoulder, Sam stepped inside, pulling me along for the ride. His hand on his face as he worked his jaw, Nate shut the door behind us.

  “That right hook of yours could use some work.”

  “Fuck you,” Sam growled.

  “Nate? What’s going on?” Holland’s frightened voice floated down the stairs a few moments before she came into view and answered the question for herself. “Oh shit.” She had a vase in her hands that she lowered to her side, for protection or decoration, I wasn’t sure.

  “Toby blabbed,” Nate informed her.

  “He didn’t just blab,” I snapped. “Don’t you fucking dare put this on him after the shitstorm we’ve just come from. A shitstorm you caused.”

  “Shitstorm?” Holland repeated, looking slightly alarmed. “What the hell happened? Nate?”

  “Simon and Bruno paid us a visit,” Sam answered.

  Nate’s jaw flexed. “What did they want?”

  “They wanted everything you ever owned,” I told him, the pressure of my mixed emotions taking over my stomach. “They showed up right after your funeral and tried to strong-arm your grieving mother. How could you do this to her, Nate? Do you have any idea how distraught she’s been? We’ve all been?” He needed to know he fucked up.

  “Don’t blame him, Alesha.” Holland stepped forward. “He did it for me. Jasmine would never let him go if he didn’t do something drastic.”

  “Are you mental?” Sam said, looking at her like she had two heads. “How is this Jasmine’s fault?”

  “You told me yourself, Sam. No one walks away when they know shit that can get someone put away.”

  “I was talk
ing about you, you fu—” Sam stopped abruptly, pressing his mouth and eyes closed as he took a calming breath. Then he levelled his furious gaze on Nate, rising to his full height, almost an inch above his brother. “Cartwrights don’t run,” he forced through his teeth.

  Nate’s jaw ticked.

  “You’re being naïve, Holland,” I continued for him. “Jasmine isn’t your enemy. She let you walk away, let me walk away, and she would die for her sons. Everything Nate did, he did for selfish reasons because he wanted you. Everything that has happened over this past year is because of him. He shit the bed. And now we’re all fucking murderers because of him. So I hope you two are happy!”

  “Holy shit,” Holland gasped, her hand going to her mouth. “Nate? What did we do?”

  Sam swallowed hard, then raked his fingers through his hair. “You really want to know, Holland? You really want to lower yourself from your almighty pedestal and get dirty with the rest of us?”

  Nate’s arm shot out, grabbing the front of Sam’s shirt. “Don’t you fucking dare speak to my wife that way.”

  Charged breathing mixed with testosterone-laden actions. I got that Nate wanted Holland protected, that he wanted to keep her good, but having no idea what we were up against wasn’t going to help her. Besides, she was already tarred by the same brush as the rest of us, she had a stack of knowledge about their various crimes and not reporting them was a crime in itself. Whether she liked it or not, she was a Cartwright too.

  “Jasmine killed Simon,” I announced, my gaze moving between Nate and Holland. Nate’s grip loosened on Sam’s shirt as his eyes widened. “She thought they set that fire and murdered you, so she retaliated. Toby had to kill Bruno so there were no witnesses. Sam and I had to help dispose of the bodies in my family’s crematorium. Now that you know all about it, you’re an accomplice after the fact.” I clapped my hand on Holland’s upper arm. “Welcome to the family, sister.”

  Holland’s eyes filled with tears as she shook her head. “No,” she whispered. “He said we were free. We were going to be happy here.” I stood and watched her shattered dream slide down her face in silent tears.

  “You can still be happy. You just need to quit fighting what you are.”

  She wiped at her cheeks. “An accomplice?”

  I shook my head. “A Cartwright. There’s pride in that name, Holland. It means family above all else.”

  She swallowed hard but nodded. While she didn’t look convinced, she at least seemed to understand.

  “At least it makes sense now why you weren’t at his funeral,” I said later while we both sat on her front porch, looking for whales in the ocean. Sam and Nate were inside ‘discussing things’, and since Holland seemed to need a moment to digest the fact that their actions had resulted in two deaths—albeit bad guys—she and I moved outside.

  “What was it like?” she asked, squinting against the sun.

  “It was sad. What else could it be? Everyone he ever knew or cared for him was there. He was so loved, Holland, and they were all beside themselves. I don’t think you understand what he left behind for you.”

  She slid lower in her chair and scowled. “I feel so incredibly selfish now. I know he did all this for me. I wanted him out, nagged him for months. Because he loves me, he did something drastic to give me what I wanted. I’m sorry you got caught in the middle of it all.” She reached over and grabbed my hand, giving it a squeeze. “I feel like I got everything I wanted and you’ve been thrown in the shark tank.”

  I touched the tender spot on my head were Bruno had introduced me to their SUV. She isn’t wrong. But I thrive in the shark tank. I’d become a whole other person since the Cartwrights had come into my life. A stronger one. A happier one. I’d found myself because of them.

  “Holland, you need to stop looking at his family like they’re some sort of demons. They’re not. They’re good people, they really are. They make me feel more welcome than my own family ever did, and all they want in return is loyalty. They have shitty morals, sure, but they’re honourable. They would die for each other in a heartbeat. If you’d let them, they’d feel that way about you too.”

  She scoffed. “I don’t think Jasmine could ever feel that way about me.”

  “Well, it’s not like you’ve really given her a chance. She’s been trying, and you keep constructing walls to keep her away. You’re being pig-headed and pious. And it’s you who’s driving the wedge in this family. Not her, not Nate—you.”

  “Did you rob the school?”

  I shook my head. “We don’t steal from kids.”

  “We.” She took a deep breath and held it for a moment, staring out to the sea. “You’ve changed,” she said, turning to study me. “You’ve got this joie de vivre you didn’t have before.” I sat proudly under her scrutiny. “It’s a good thing. You seem tired and stressed, but you seem happy too. Are you happy, Leesh?”

  I nodded. “I’d be happier if I still had my friend. But yeah, I’m happy.”

  “You didn’t seem to need me,” she admitted, taking a sip from her coffee—Irish, to help calm her nerves.

  “Why wouldn’t I need you? I was thrown into this new world where I had no one.”

  “You don’t think I felt that way too?”

  “How could you possibly? You still had everything that was yours. You got to keep your job, your apartment, your connection to your family. I lost all of that.”

  “I was still forced into a world that wasn’t mine.”

  “A world you wanted, Holland. Don’t lie to yourself and say that when you dragged me out to that house, you weren’t doing it because you wanted Nate. You were obsessed with him, just like he was obsessed with you.”

  Her mouth twisted slightly and her eyes glistened. “It was never my intention for us to get caught,” she whispered.

  “But we did get caught. I feel like I made the best of things and you just kept trying to run away.”

  “I never wanted to run from Nate. Never wanted to leave you. I stayed because I cared.”

  “But then you left anyway.”

  She nodded. “You fit in there so well. Flourished, even. I was willing to go through with that job. I wanted to fit in too. Then Nate showed me the flowers and I couldn’t. I just couldn’t. Not after what we saw with your mum. Not with how much her leaving affected you. You lost your light when she left.”

  I took a breath. “She’s dead, you know.”

  Holland’s eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Leesh.”

  “It’s OK. It happened a long time ago, and I always had a feeling.”

  “I remember you saying.” Holland placed her hand on my forearm, giving it a squeeze.

  A wayward tear drifted down my cheek and I wiped it away. “You remember how my dad was always talking to the roses?” She nodded. “That’s where she is.”

  “That makes a lot of sense,” she said. Then I filled her in on the rest of the tale, how I left when she did, made amends with my family and finally started working in cosmetics.

  “What made you leave?” she asked when I was finished. “Was Sam not being good to you?”

  “Sam was wonderful. He always had been. But I wanted it to be real. We got married and then floated along in this attraction we had for each other. We needed time to work through our feelings. I needed time to work out who I was.”

  “You wanted the fairy tale,” she stated with a smile.

  “I did. But mostly I wanted to be his choice instead of his obligation. I wanted him to love me.”

  “Looks like he does. You wouldn’t be here if he didn’t.”

  “Yes.” I looked over my shoulder to where I could see the shadowed outline of two brothers sitting together in deep discussion. There was so much going on inside my head from the events of the last few weeks, and I had to really concentrate to keep it from overwhelming me. Having Sam made it so much easier. “We love each other very much.”

  “Remember when we never thought we’d marry?” she said, joining
me in watching the men.

  I smiled. “Remember when we promised that we’d only marry brothers so we’d be sisters?”

  She laughed. It was the first hint of joy I’d heard from her in what felt like forever. “What were we, nine?”

  “I think so.” For a moment we sat quietly, thinking of a shared past filled with childish dreams. Some dreams came true. “But we did it, didn’t we? We’re sisters now.”

  Meeting my eyes, she nodded. “I’m sorry, Leesh. For everything.”

  I took her hand. “I’m not sorry, Holl. This all happened for a reason. I think we’re exactly where we’re meant to be.”

  Chapter Thirty-Two

  Renewal

  “Happy anniversary, peaches,” Sam said, kissing me awake. It was one minute into our wedding anniversary and he was sneaking into my bed. That was the problem with being married to a thief. He probably stole my room key when he was in here earlier—though I may have left it out on purpose as a temptation.

  “I don’t think you should even be in here.” I smiled. “Isn’t this bad luck?”

  He slid his hands beneath my negligee, worn because it was white and lacy and the first piece of sexy sleepwear I ever owned.

  “The superstition isn’t valid when you’re renewing your vows. We’re already married, and you know how much I need you.”

  I could feel that need pressing against my butt.

  “You know most men are past the honeymoon period by now, right? They’re too busy watching sports or something to maul their wives.”

  His hand moved over my stomach as his mouth worked along my shoulder and against the curve of my neck. “Is that what you call this?” he whispered. “Mauling.”

  “My word power isn’t the best when you’re doing that.”

  “Doing what? This?” He ran the tip of his tongue around the shell of my ear. “Or this?” He slid his hand down to my mound, stopping just before he got to point where I’d begun to throb.