Recovering Beauty: The Kane Brothers Book Two

by Gina Azzi

  I touch his hand shyly and his neck snaps up, staring at me. “I really am healing.”

  His jawline softens, his mouth going slack at the admission and he nods again, squeezing my fingertips. “I know. I just wish you didn’t have to.”

  I shrug. “Talking to you, jeez, just getting out of my parent’s house has been good for me. It’s helping. So, thank you.”

  He’s quiet, his hand dropping my fingertips after one final squeeze. “Come on, let’s catch up to Ria and Marco. I owe you an ice cream.”

  Within minutes we enter Sally’s Sweet Shoppe and Marco’s eyes widen to the size of saucers. “I’d like vanilla and chocolate and whipped cream and hot fudge and a cherry and sprinkles and –”

  “Sounds like a banana split, little man.” Carter chuckles.

  “Yes, one of those.” Marco says seriously.

  “You got it. Taylor, Ria?” Carter turns to Ria and me politely and we both rattle off ice cream flavors.

  When we sit outside in the bright sunshine eating our ice cream cones, I bite back my smile, mouthing “thank you” to Carter. But he smiles back anyway, another moment passing between us that infuses my heart with hope.

  11

  Carter

  "Okay, Carter, what gives?" Evie slides onto the bar stool across from me at Kindred Spirits.

  "I got you a chocolate croissant and a skinny vanilla latte." I push the pastry and hot beverage closer to her side of the table.

  "Thanks." She takes a huge bite of the pastry, little flakes sticking to the corners of her mouth. She moans appreciatively and I smirk, about to tease her, but really, I'm just relieved she's eating like a normal person again.

  "What's my brother up to?"

  "Helping Den finish up on the Land Rover. Then heading to Savannah to sell Ethan's truck."

  "They got a buyer?"

  Evie nods, her eyes serious as she takes a sip of coffee. "Yep, good price, too. Amy is really happy. Well, I think relieved is more like it."

  I bite into my second donut, considering Evie's words. Ethan Willis was my brother's best friend in the Army. They served several tours together but during their last stint in Iraq, Ethan was killed in action. It messed with Jax's head big time and is partly the reason he moved back home. Watching his girl polish off another bite across from me, it's strange to realize how life works out sometimes. Ethan's death gutted Jax, but it also made him realize certain wants for his own future. After coming back to town and crossing paths with Evie, there was no way he was letting her go a second time. And now they're together, about to embrace a new chapter of their lives in San Antonio in just a few more weeks.

  "You all set for San Antonio?"

  Evie nods, placing her croissant on her plate and brushing crumbs from her hands. "Pretty much. I wanted to show you the photos I took of our new place." She pulls out her phone and taps the screen a few times before turning it toward me.

  I flip through the pictures of a cute yellow house with a white fence and flowers lining the walkway. A sunny kitchen, two bedrooms, and two bathrooms, it's a perfect space for Evie and Jax.

  "It's really nice." I hand her back her phone. "I'm really happy for y'all."

  "Thanks. But the real reason for our coffee, what's going on with you? Daisy says you've been spacey as hell, and Den thinks you're in trouble."

  I take another gulp of coffee, giving myself a minute to collect my thoughts. Evie has been like a second sister to me since she and Jax hooked up in high school. She was always easy to talk to, much easier for me to confide in then my own siblings sometimes. But then I went and nearly cost her her future. I watched from a distance as she retreated more and more into herself and away from everything she once loved and valued. Jax's return has helped bring her back to us and here she is, sitting across from me, concern shading the bright blue of her eyes, and it's like old times between us once more.

  "I met a girl."

  Understanding dawns in Evie's eyes, and the concern recedes, replaced with...amusement. "And?"

  "She's the girl from the accident."

  "What?"

  "The girl Gunner and I got into the accident with."

  Evie's mouth drops open, and if her surprise wasn't aimed at my predicament, I would laugh. "You met her?"

  "Yup."

  "And?"

  "She's..." I lean back in my chair, my fingers pressing the skin at the top of my nose. "She's different."

  Evie laughs, the sound high with her budding excitement and obvious confusion. "You like her."

  "It's messing with my head."

  "Oh, my God." She shakes her head, wiping her fingertips across a napkin. "I can’t believe you’re into the girl from the accident.” She wrinkles her nose, angling her head to the left. “Is it weird? I mean, how did you guys even get past that?”

  “It’s not. Weird I mean. Not like it should be. I don’t know. She’s just, she’s chill. She’s calm and easygoing and passionate about things like literature and poetry. It’s easy between us, the talking. I’ve never had that before.”

  “Wow.” Evie’s eyes widen and she shakes her head. “I never thought I'd see the day when charming, ladies’ man Carter fell for a girl." She reaches over and pinches my cheek like a baby.

  "Stop it." I swat her hand away. "I didn't fall for a girl. I just—"

  "Just what?"

  "I'd tell you if you let me speak."

  "Mm-hmm. Stop stalling. You what?"

  "I've never met anyone like her," I admit, miserable.

  "That's a good thing, Carter. A really good thing." Evie ducks her head to catch my eyes. "I don't get what the problem is. Except for the obvious that she probably hates your guts for running her over."

  "That's the worst part."

  Evie's brow furrows, and she takes another sip of coffee.

  "She doesn't hate me. I expected her to, but she doesn’t. She doesn’t even blame me. I mean, she’s obviously upset about the accident and she’s trying to move past it, but her anger isn’t directed at me at all. " I clarify.

  Understanding slowly dawns in Evie's eyes. "Why do you think you don't deserve happiness?"

  I arch back in my chair. "This again? Evie, you're not—"

  "A psychologist just because I majored in psychology. I know. But Carter, what happened to me wasn't your fault."

  I hold my hand out to stop her from speaking words that only fuel the guilt in my stomach.

  "And what happened to the girl—"

  "Taylor."

  "What happened to Taylor wasn't your fault, either."

  "I was in the car."

  "You weren't driving."

  "I shouldn't have let Gunner drive."

  "It was wrong place, wrong time."

  I shake my head. "It's more than that."

  "You've got to learn to forgive yourself, to realize that you’re worthy of happiness, or you're going to be eaten by ulcers."

  I snort.

  "I'm serious." She reaches over and swipes the leftover donut off my plate. "If this girl makes you, I don't know, like this," she says, waving her hand in front of me, "then you should do something about it."

  "It would never work."

  "You don't know that."

  "I do."

  "Then why'd you ask me to have coffee, so we can talk about her?"

  I open my mouth to answer but quickly close it because Evie's right. I did want to talk about Taylor. And I did want Evie to give me her honest opinion, even though I knew exactly what it would be.

  Evie flashes a knowing smirk as she takes another bite into my donut.

  I shake my head, a wry grin curling my lips. "All right, all right. I'll ask her out."

  "Good."

  "Keep eating my donut."

  "I will."

  Glancing at my cell phone as a text message comes through, my stomach sours as I read the words that appear on the screen.

  Texas Ink: Still no show from your guy.

  Jesus. Griller is killing
me. I already told him I’m done. Out. Bringing the bigshot into his poker game was my last job and I did it. Why the hell should I care one way or the other if the guy owes him a bunch of money or not? If the business guru was losing big time and forthcoming with the cash, Griller wouldn’t think twice about letting me know. It’s a moot point. Just like this.

  "Everything okay?"

  I flip my phone over, blocking the screen. "Of course. What have you and Jax got planned for tonight?"

  I nod as Evie tells me about a new restaurant that opened up in the town next to us. We both know it's pointless because Jax and Evie eat at Raf's every Friday night. And pretty much always. Still, I'm grateful that she prattles on as my thoughts flicker to other topics.

  Like how I’m going to ask Taylor out. And if she’ll say yes.

  "Hello?" I answer the phone on the third ring.

  "This is a collect call from Corlie Penitentiary. If you agree to accept the charges—"

  "Accept."

  "Carter." His deep voice throws me, the same way it does every time I hear it.

  The back of my neck suddenly turns cold, an icy shiver working its way down my spine. Why does he still affect me after all of these years? After everything he did? Everything he put us through?

  "Dad."

  "I don't like what I'm hearing."

  "Oh?”

  “Don’t play stupid with me, boy. I know you cut ties with Griller and the MC. Now why the hell would you go and do a stupid thing like that?”

  “Because I’m done. I’m not doing anymore side jobs for them and I’m done lying to my brothers and sister.”

  He sighs heavily, and the irritation I detect in that whoosh of air has my icy veins thawing in anger.

  "You’re done, hmm? Just like that? How’re you even keeping the lights on without a real job and no degree?”

  “I’m managing just fine.”

  “I bet you are, with that sweet blonde you’re running around town with.”

  The remaining ice in my veins defrosts quickly and my blood simmers. How the hell does he know about Taylor? I’ve always known my dad has eyes everywhere, it’s one of the reasons I complied with his request that I work for the MC. If I refused him, it would mean trouble for Daisy so I did it to keep her safe, keep her away from the MC guys that leered at her and followed her around. After Daisy went to ASU, I kept up with the MC jobs because the money was good and it meant I could pay Daisy’s tuition without her having to take out student loans. From what I hear, those are a real bitch.

  But now Daisy is all grown-up and graduated. She’s searching for a job and I know when the right one comes through for her, she’s not going to be sticking around Ashby County. So my days working for Griller are done. As are my days cowering to my father.

  “Who I run around with is none of your business. I already told Griller I’m out. Why are you calling?”

  “No reason.” He coughs and I hear the mucus rattle in his chest.

  “Come on old man, there’s always a reason.”

  He chuckles, the sound low and sinister. “You’re right. There is. But if you’re not smart enough to have figured it out already, why would I bother telling you?” He clicks off and the sound of a dial tone buzzes in my ear.

  Jerking away from the phone, disappointment and dread fill my chest with coldness. It quickly melts into a hot rage of fury as anger pumps in my bloodstream. Why the hell do I let him get to me? Why does he always know exactly what to say to keep me ensnared in his life? To ensure that I don’t completely cut him off the way the rest of my siblings did years ago?

  Because you’re weak. The voice in my head is small but manages to cause a flicker of doubt. Because you’ve already done too much damage to be redeemed. Have I? Is it too late?

  Because he’s your father.

  I groan, throwing my phone down on my bed and collapsing on top of it. I hate that after all these years, after everything he’s done, not being there for Mom, not being there for us, landing himself in prison in the first place, I still play his stupid games. I still take his stupid calls.

  And the fact that he knows something that I don’t, that he has something to hold over me, will eat away at me until I figure it out. Or until it blows up in my face.

  I jump up from my bed, suddenly restless. Adrenaline and anger are making me jumpy. Striding across the room, I pound my fist into the wall, needing some type of release.

  A hole stares at me from my bedroom wall and my scraped knuckles throb.

  I need to release some of my anger, some of this pent-up guilty shit that threatens to swallow me each time I talk to the man who was supposed to protect me and made me his protege instead.

  Everyone thought Den was his golden boy. Because once upon a time, Den was.

  But I'm his shadow. The one behind the scenes. The one who pulls the strings. The least suspecting Kane and the most devious of us all.

  Another hole.

  I need something. An out.

  In the past, this is when the underground boxing matches and the MC connections came in handy. But that’s not an option now. I’m done with that life.

  I pick my phone back up and scroll through my contacts, my eyes catching and lingering on Lori's name.

  Disappointment and guilt flood through me in the next breath, and I close my eyes for a beat.

  Lori's out.

  Blowing out a deep breath of air, I force myself to pull on shorts and sneakers.

  Then, I go for a run. One that doesn't end for a long, long time.

  12

  Taylor

  "You shine in emerald green," Barrington calls out to me as I descend the staircase in my parents’ home.

  Please, kill me.

  Daddy grins at me while Mom beams beside him, her hands clasped in front of her trim waistline.

  "She sure is a vision," Daddy agrees as Barrington nods.

  I wince as the toe of my sandal catches the carpet and sends a jolt up my leg. I pushed too hard in my PT session with Patrick yesterday and now I’m paying for it. My leg feels weak and sore, a tingling numbness spreading up my thigh and down to my toes.

  I take the steps slowly, making sure the extra drag of my left leg doesn't catch the carpet and send me tumbling down the stairs to land unceremoniously at Barrington's feet. I can't think of a worse position to be in.

  I let out a small sigh of relief when my sandals clear the last step, and my feet are firmly on the floor. The full skirt of the emerald green gown conceals that I'm not donning designer heels under the elegant satin folds. Instead, I’m wearing flat sandals from a random store at the mall.

  "Darling," Barrington greets me, pressing kisses to each cheek.

  "Hello Barrington." I wince at the coldness in my tone as Daddy catches my eye, his eyebrows dipping in concern.

  Steeling my spine, I remind myself that I made the decision to accompany Barrington tonight. I agreed to help Daddy so I’m not going to make him feel guilty about it.

  But as the pressure of Barrington's fingers digs into my shoulder, I also resolve that this will be the last time.

  "Well, Barrington, I'd love to share a scotch and continue our talk, but you and Taylor should be on your way if you're going to catch all the cameras. And Taylor could use a well-placed photo at the moment." He laughs lightly to deflect from the truth in his words, but I hear them and my stomach clenches.

  A well-placed photo? Does he really think that’s enough to save his company and reputation for being a gambler?

  Unable to muster the energy for a response, I let Barrington whisk me outside and down the steps to his waiting Bentley.

  Once I'm tucked inside and he's seated beside me, the temperature in the car dips to below freezing.

  "Why do you need a photo? Are things that bad with your career?" His voice is sharp, and I force myself to look up. Meeting his eyes, the calculated edge glinting around his irises puts me on guard.

  "Not at all," I reply calmly. "I just haven'
t been to many social gatherings over the last month and Daddy would like society to see that I really am okay. You know how much people worry. Besides, we’re focusing on improving the image of the Clarke Brand and saving Daddy’s company."

  He jerks his head in a nod and starts the engine.

  The silence between us is deafening, and this time the soft music flowing through the speakers can't drown it out. I feel every second that passes in Barrington's car as if it was an eternity, and I was spending it on a deserted island in shark-infested waters with a blistering sunburn.

  That's how being in his presence is.

  Painful.

  Once we pull up to the event and Barrington tosses his keys to the valet, he helps me from the car. His hand automatically settles in the small of my back, and I have to squeeze his other hand to force him to slow his gait so I don't trip. The pressure on my spine increases, and I know he's displeased but would never make a scene in front of a crowd this size.

  The moment we step onto the carpet ascending the stairs to the venue, the cameras are flashing, the paparazzi are calling our names, and microphones are twirling in front of our faces.

  "Taylor! How are you feeling?"

  "You look beautiful, Taylor!"

  "You're a lucky man, Barrington."

  "It's so good to see you guys out together!"

  "When are you going to put a ring on it?"

  Barrington colors beside me, ducking his head sheepishly.

  I smile for the cameras, my hand raised in a wave, my concentration almost solely on putting one foot in front of the other. The material of my gown swishes around my legs, reminding me to take small, measured steps. I lean on Barrington for support and feel him stiffen beside me.

  In a move so unexpected I don't even have time to react, his hand sweeps across my lower back and his arm encircles my waist. Then I'm falling, my back braced against his arm, as Barrington dips me low and plants his mouth over mine in a kiss so uninspired, it may as well be my hand.

  The cameras flash, hoots and whistles sound around us, and I grow dizzy at the awkward angle and the press of Barrington's lips against my own.