Forbidden Eyes: A Cane Novel 4

by Hart, Charlotte E

  Much like the plane, Carter leaves the car without acknowledging me. As soon as we arrive at the house he heads off in the direction of his own place before I've even made it out of the car.

  “Carter!” I shout, unable to contain my exasperation for a minute more.

  He ignores my call and continues to stomp off.

  “What are you waiting for?” Quinn offers, propped up on the side of the car with his arms crossed.

  “Sorry?”

  “Simple question. Do you want to go after him?” He raises his brow as if challenging me, and right now that’s the last thing I need.

  “Yes. I do.”

  He nods, telling me what I need to do. I spin and storm after Carter.

  The door swings wide as he enters his house, nearly smashing the wall as he goes.

  “Fia, I’m not in the mood right now,” he calls back to me, nothing but irritation in his voice. He’s already in the kitchen when I creep in and find him, pulling open a cupboard and grabbing a soda from his fridge. “What do you want?”

  “I thought we could talk.”

  “Talk,” he repeats, nodding his head and looking at me like he might explode into the violence I saw from my father. He’s always been so calm and in control. Even when he was killing people there was still a sense of control about him. A coolness. And when he was taking the beating, he must have been so close to letting go, but he didn’t. He was in control. But right now, all I want is a reaction that tells me he’s feeling something—anything—for me. Even anger would be better than silence.

  “I don’t think talking is a good idea. You should go back up to the house. Your mother will be here soon.” His dismissal stings, but then I should be getting used to that now.

  “It was you who wanted to talk in the hospital. Now, when I want to, you’d rather I just leave? I can’t leave, Carter. I’m here because my family is ripped in two. All because of me.”

  He turns to look away, choosing the window rather than me. “We’ve been through this, Fia.”

  “You telling me that it’s your fault doesn’t remove the guilt that I feel. I’m an adult in this as well. Don’t treat me like a child.”

  “I’ve never fucking treated you like a child," he murmurs. "Believe me, I wish I could have done.”

  “You’d rather nothing happened between us then? Good to know, Carter.”

  He swings to face me so quick I falter back a step, the flash of the same scowl I saw in hospital scaring me slightly.

  “That is not what I fucking meant, and you know it. Stop aggravating the situation.”

  This was a mistake. How am I meant to fight for Carter when he doesn’t want me? When he thinks nothing more of me than a situation to deal with? I turn to leave, head low and a million emotions rushing through me.

  “Fia, stop.” His hand on my shoulder halts my retreat, but the tears have all but fallen down my cheeks. “God, woman. Can’t you see how fucking mixed up this is? How dangerous this is for everyone?”

  “Funnily enough, yes.” I meet his eyes and search them for that flicker of desire that I’m desperate to see again. All of this happened because of me. Because of Carter. And standing under his gaze, I fear I’d do it all again, regardless of the problems we've caused.

  The moment suspends in time, all the pain and confusion drifting into insignificance as I stare at him. His eyes search mine as if looking for an explanation. My body inches towards him, suddenly screaming for contact as his fingers tangle in my hair at the nape of my neck. I’m weak in his hold. My breathing quickens, and the drop in my stomach has me struggling to breathe. I'll sign everything over to him right now if he just moves in to me. One kiss and I'll stay, fight my father when he comes. Tell my mom I'm never going home and…

  “Fuck!” Carter curses and drops our connection. He turns his back, releasing me in the same move, and digs into his pocket for his phone. “Yes!” he snaps at whoever called him. Without a single word, he hangs up and throws the phone on the countertop to stare out the window again, his hands messing up his own hair this time. The profile of his body calls to me, regardless of the distance he's created again.

  “Your mom is up at the house. She’d like to see you. You should go. Now."

  “Right.” I nod even though he can’t see me. “I’ll just… leave then.”

  Every step I take towards the door, I hope with everything in me that he'll stop me from leaving but he doesn’t. Not one word or action to tell me we're still something. I refuse to pause and give him any more of myself than I already have and make short work of the path back up to the main house. Knowing my mom is waiting for me is the only thing keeping me standing.

  “Hey, kiddo.”

  “Aunt Gabby?” She’s unloading a bag from the shiny sports car parked on the drive. As usual, a beautiful diamond adorns her throat.

  “You okay? You don’t look so good.”

  “Have you seen my mom? I heard she’s just arrived.”

  “Sure, she got in at the same time as us. She’s talking with Quinn.”

  I nod, a little lost as to whether I should interrupt her, and stare at the mansion in front of me. It's all a mess—my head, the family, the situation.

  “Want me to come and fetch her for you?”

  “Thanks.” I dash the tears from my eyes, annoyed with them but so confused about everything.

  “Hey, it’s all going to work out. I promise.” She puts her arm around my shoulder and steers me into the house.

  “I wish I had your optimism.”

  “Experience. I know what my husband and brother-in-law are like. Protective is an understatement. I believe your mother inherited that particular trait as well.”

  We walk through into Quinn’s office. The child in me wants to wait at the door and try to hear what they are saying, but Gabby strides right in as if expected.

  “Fia!” The relief in my mom’s voice as she sees me sets me off, and the tears that were seeping through my lashes, now flood my eyes. She engulfs me in a hug, full of comfort, warmth and familiarity. I cling to her as if I haven’t seen her in months, and I’m immediately back to being the little girl I once was.

  My arms squeeze her into me, hoping to absorb some of her strength.

  “Let’s get you upstairs, sweetheart,” she whispers. I nod, rubbing my head against her, not ready to let her go and uncaring that we’re in a room with Uncle Quinn and Aunt Gabby.

  She manoeuvres me into the guest bedroom and sits us on the edge of the bed, all without losing contact. Although the tears have been trailing down my face like a slow thaw in spring, I’ve yet to unleash the buildup that I know will storm through me if I give it a chance.

  Mom peels me back from her to take a look at my face. The sadness in her eyes—the pain and hurt that I feel reflect in hers. She’s always been incredibly strong. She’s the calming influence to my father’s sometimes irrational behaviour, but I see her now. Her eyes shimmer with tears, and that’s enough to pull the emotion from me.

  “Mom, I don’t know what to do and Dad was so frightening. He completely lost it. I can’t believe this happened. I don’t know what to do.” I start to sob, my words starting to run into one another, and the ball of emotion gets lodged in my throat.

  She doesn’t answer, but clutches me to her again, letting me cry out until I’m ready. Minutes pass, and I get lost in focusing on the beating of Mom’s heart. She can’t hide the fact that she’s crying as well, and I let her. Perhaps we both need this time. God knows I've never seen her cry before, even in the middle of arguments with Dad.

  “Does he know we’re both here?” I whisper.

  “Your father? Probably. Although, I didn’t speak to him before I left.”

  “What have you told him?” We lie back on the bed and turn in towards each other.

  “Nothing. He wasn’t at home when I left and right now, I don’t think I can cope with that conversation.”

  “Why did he do it?”

  �
��Do what, honey?”

  “Beat up Carter? He came looking for us and tortured him. In front of me. I didn't even know that's who he was. What he's capable of.” My vision blurs again. "There was so much blood, Mom. Everywhere. And… "

  “I’m not defending his actions, but he does only want to protect you. There's so much you don't know about him. So much he's tried to keep from you.”

  “Mom, he would have left him there for dead. If I wasn’t there? He made me do it. I had no choice but to force him to leave. How could he have done that? He’s supposed to love me and protect me, not punish me like that.” I sit up and prop myself against the padded headboard.

  “Baby, I’m so sorry. He should never, ever have put you through that.”

  I nod. But really, I don’t need Mom to apologise for something my dad should never have done.

  “Did you mean to miss him?” Her whisper isn’t an accusation, and I guess I should have known it was coming.

  “I don’t know.” It’s the truth. “I can’t go back home.”

  “Are you going to stay with Carter? That’s a bit soon, don’t you think?”

  “I’m not… Things with… it's complicated with Carter. But I thought I could stay with Aunt Emily and Uncle Quinn? I can’t face him, Mom. I swear you can’t make me. I won't and ...” Hysteria begins building at the thought.

  “Shhh, shhh, I’m not going to make you do anything you don’t want to.” She reaches for my hands and squeezes them, reassuring me that in this, I can trust her.

  “So, are you going to tell me about Carter? I’m guessing things must be serious between you two. Or at least they are for you.” Her smile is weak through her tear-stained face, and I wish I could tell her all about Carter and me, but right now I’m not sure what there is to say.

  “I’m not sure, Mom. I know that he’s the first guy ever to make my stomach turn over in anticipation. It’s only been a short time, but to me, it doesn’t matter because I’m pretty sure I’m falling in love with him.” I should be smiling from ear to ear, but all I feel like doing is breaking out into tears again.

  “Baby, that’s so good to hear. I’d love to meet him.”

  “Yeah… I’d love that as well. We’re just… not really talking right now. And I don’t know how to fix it.”

  “You don’t need to worry about fixing everything, Fia. I know that’s your default setting, but sometimes you need to let life take its natural course. Carter is a Cane for all intents and purposes. That means he’s stubborn, egotistical, and probably as useless with his emotions as Quinn." A small smile creeps up my face at her tone. "And I know I haven't seen him, but I suppose he's in pain. Again, that's something Canes don't do very well. He won’t want to let you or anybody else see that. You both have some healing to do.”

  “You think I should wait for him to come to me?”

  “I think you need to take baby steps. This is your first real relationship, and it isn’t your usual high school boyfriend or girlfriend scenario. Don’t rush him.”

  I hear what she’s saying and what she’s trying to do, but I’m not sure I can cope with sitting back and waiting. “Mom, I know you’re trying to help, but I can’t cope with waiting. I’m terrified that if I give him space, he'll realise that I’ve been a terrible mistake for him.” I look up at her face and hope she can understand my fear. I can’t imagine anyone ever thinking Hope Winters was a mistake.

  “No one worthy of you will ever, ever see you as a mistake. Do you hear me?”

  “Thank you.” I sniff. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you, Mom.” I mean every word, but now I need to focus on me and Carter. He stood up to my father for me. That’s got to mean something. I just need to get him to remember why, and acknowledge me and what we had, and not see me as a danger to his family.

  Twenty-Five

  My head stays down on the way over to the pool, eyes tracking the grass and stones under my feet. That’s all there’s been for the last day or so. I’ve holed up in my place and tried to get my shit together, choosing to avoid anyone in the main house and focus on healing. Fia included. Nate came over last night. Apparently, Quinn called them both back from holiday because of what’s happened. I apologised for that, and then he sat and let me talk to him, all the time drinking one glass of scotch as I guzzled tequila like it was going out of fashion. I can’t even remember most of what I said to him, but I do remember his opening line when he arrived.

  “I had this conversation with Quinn years ago. Man up.”

  I got the point of him coming over then.

  Guess I must have told him things about Fia. The situation.

  Still didn't change where we're at, though.

  Fuck, my head hurts. Still, even though it's most of the way through the day.

  The heat of the pool hits me the second I walk through the door, reminding me of Miami. It was hotter there than it is here. The hotel room was, too. And the boat. And her body was hot as fuck. Everything was hot. Sweaty. My dick, as it has been doing for the last fuck knows how long, announces interest at my thoughts.

  I tear at my clothes and dump them on the hooks, pulling my trunks on and heading for the water. I have to get this shit out of my head. It needs to stop. Now. It’s bad enough that its happened already, that I’ve put them all in this position, but I am going to do the right thing. Have to. I know Quinn told me to think. And I have. The answer is the same as it was before, regardless of the constant thoughts of her in my head. I will not put my family in harm’s way. Not Quinn, not Nate, not Logan. Not Emily and Gabby.

  And certainly not Fia and her own mother.

  Not again.

  The water rushes over my skin as I dive in and power through it, part of me hoping to exhaust the fucking confusion out of me. Nothing has helped me to rid her from my thoughts, especially when I’ve known she’s only a walk away from me. So close. Too close. She needs to leave and go home to her father, make amends somehow, and get on with her life without me. There’s so much future for her out there. So many possibilities. Ivy League life. Ivy League friends.

  Ivy League fucking husband.

  I hit the end and turn, arms fuelling me back down the other end in frustration regardless of my cracked ribs. I don't even know how she managed to get me to the hospital, or herself away from her father back at that warehouse. She must have done something pretty substantial to get him to leave her, which is yet another reason this family is now in trouble, I guess. Maybe she told him to go fuck himself, told him they were finished. He won't leave it, though. He'll be back to get what is his.

  A half hour powering up and down the pool at full speed and I stop, heaving in some breaths. Fuck. Everything hurts like a bitch. All because of her father and my attempt at chivalry. What a fucking thought. Chivalry would have been staying away from her in the first place and doing exactly what her father’s probably tried to do his whole life—protect her. I damn well deserve this pain for what I did, if not from him, then Quinn. Everything he’s done for me over the years and I give him this shit as thanks.

  Nice, Carter.

  Loyal.

  I stare at the end of the pool house, watching the blue swathes of light dancing over the ceiling in the hope it’ll show me a way out other than telling her to leave. It doesn’t, no matter how long I stare at it. My dick might be fascinated with her, maybe my head is, too, but this house and everyone in it deserves more from me than self-interest. Always will. Without them, I’d be less than I am today with nothing to my name but hardship and back-end streets.

  Maybe I should be the one to leave.

  It is her family after all.

  My body floats after that, focusing my eyes up at the ceiling, no energy left other than my brain persistently spinning round in circles that never quit. I’ve never been in love before, didn’t even think I was capable of the feeling. That’s what Quinn said, though. He said I must be to have done what I’ve done. Guess that’s why he didn’t go off on me. Nate eith
er. I smile a little, remembering the four of them as I’ve grown up here. The arguments, the happiness. They fit well, all of them, like they’re all part of this Cane team. Logan, too. I’m not one of them, though. Not really. I’m a Mazarono.

  Gutter trash compared to them.

  Just proved it, too.

  That thought alone forces my body to the end of the pool to get out. I’m leaving. I’ll go apologize, get my shit together, and go. Thanks to them I’ve got enough of my own money to set up somewhere new, find a new life. Staying will just confuse everyone.

  Vico and Cane had an alliance, a good one. Both profit driven and family orientated. Then I go ahead and stick my dick in something that isn’t meant for the likes of me, no matter how much I wanted it or still want it. Quinn will find a way forward, manage the situation and get it back in control. And she can go back home, get on with that life of hers.

  Without me.

  I break the surface and rest my forehead on the end of the poolside, fingers tightening on the tiles at the thought of leaving any of this behind, let alone her.

  “Hey.”

  Fuck.

  My eyes close at the sound of her, part of me refusing to acknowledge she’s standing there. She is, though. Right there, her voice so close I could probably reach out, grab her, pull her down into this water and do exactly what I feel like doing rather than the right thing. Damn my dick. I smile at the feel of it waking up again, a bitter chuckle leaving me. What the fuck does it matter now? Perhaps I should enjoy her again. Enjoy it for the last time.

  It sure as hell won’t happen again.

  “Can’t you even look at me?” she asks tentatively.

  My forehead presses into the tile, eyes still not able to look because if she’s in a fucking bikini again there’s not a chance in hell I’m stopping this. Everything aches at the sound of her. My dick, my hands, even my chest makes me feel something I don’t want to feel. Like my body’s getting weak and running on air.