Gabe

Three hours later, I’m sitting on a hard plastic chair against the yellow brick wall in the San Francisco General Hospital, staring down at the black screen of my phone. A flurry of people have walked by as I’ve tapped my foot against the shiny blue vinyl flooring and then paced the hallway until my legs tired. For the last half an hour, I’ve sat in this damn chair waiting for a text from Ryder.

Just as I rise for another round of pacing, my phone beeps, and finally the screen lights up, displaying a text from Ryder.

McKenna’s gone. It looks like she’s going into the café. Be quick.

I jump to my feet and make my move, hurrying down the hallway and turning right, approaching Evan’s hospital room. Regardless that McKenna wanted to give Evan time, maybe to help protect him, or maybe to figure out where his head was at, before letting me talk to him, I will talk to Evan on my terms, not hers.

When I enter the room, I find the television set is turned to the sports channel. Evan is lying in his bed, hooked up to a couple bags of IVs, a bandage around his head, his eyes closed. He’s thin, probably more so because Draken likely fed him little during his time in the factory.

If he weren’t injured, I’d be tempted to throttle the living shit out of him. This is the last place I want to be. Going behind McKenna’s back is the last thing I want to do, but I know she won’t let me talk to him, and this whole situation still rests on my shoulders. The recording happened in my pub. I need to make this right for the guys who don’t deserve the shit Evan put them through.

I stop by his bedside and clear my throat. As his eyes open, they grow wide, clearly aware of exactly who I am. “You and I have a problem,” I tell him firmly.

He sits up a little straighter, glancing at the door before his one good eye meets mine again. The other eye is swollen shut, his face a black and blue mess of injuries. “I suspected you might show up here,” he comments.

“Did you?” I ask, crossing my arms, glaring down at the guy who nearly ruined my friends’ lives.

Evan nods, visibly swallows.

“In your thoughts,” I say slowly, my eyes narrowing on the little shit. “What did you think I would do when I showed up here?”

“I wasn’t sure.” He glances at the doorway as if somehow that will save him from my wrath.

I pause, considering my next steps. Christ, even I’m not sure what to do. What I want to do is smack this kid around a little bit, teach him a thing or two about messing with me. Instead, doing the smart thing, I say, “You need to make this right, Evan.”

His gaze lifts to mine, voice small. “How do I do that?”

I reach into my pocket, take out a paper that I asked Ross Sterling to draft up for me, then picked up on my way to the hospital, and hand it to Evan. “Signing this would be a good start.”

He takes the paper, his one eye scanning the typed words. “What will this do?”

“That is absolutely none of your business.” I shove my hand back into my pocket and grabbing a pen. “But after all the shit you’ve done, I think signing this affidavit is the least that you can do.”

I offer him the pen, and without a further push, he signs the paper and hands it to me.

“What else?” he asks.

I draw in a deep breath, studying him, and some of my anger diminishes. He wants to fix all this, I can see that, which only tells me he is the addict McKenna claims him to be. His expression is full of regret, sadness, and hopelessness. I begin to see that he’s not the horrible piece of shit I think he is. McKenna’s too good to be close to someone like that, but again, she also loves him. “You need to make things right with McKenna, too.”

He shifts against his pillows. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, man-up and stop using your fucking sister.”

Evan watches me a minute, assessing, I’m sure. Finally, he asks, “Are you with her now or something?”

I hide the hurt his words cause. Three hours he’s been awake. Three hours McKenna hasn’t talked about me or told Evan about us. “You asked me what else I think you need to do,” I tell him, redirecting the conversation where I want it to go. “That’s what I think you need to do.” I step forward, coming closer to his bedside, and lower my voice. “If you dare involve me or my friends in your bullshit again, I’ll have you arrested for everything you can think of and more. Got it?”

Evan nods, and the relief is there in the depths of his one eye. Today he got a free pass, and he knows it.

“Say the words aloud,” I order, pressing my clenched fists against his mattress, leaning in, nice and close.

“Yeah, yeah,” Evan says, moving away. “I won’t do it again.”

Done with what I came here to do, and reminded of Ryder’s warning for me not to stay long, I turn to leave the room, when suddenly Evan calls, “I sold your stories to pay the debt. I did that so McKenna wouldn’t have to pay. I wanted to protect her.”

I shut my eyes and breathe deep, and then I turn back to him, eyebrow arched. “Do you really want to have this conversation?”

“I want you to know that—”

“If you want to have this conversation,” I interject through gritted teeth, not letting him get a damn word in. “Then let me be very clear with you, Evan. You’re a fucking leech.” His eyes begin to narrow, and that’s when I allow my glare to hold all my hatred for him.

In an instant, his expression softens, and I add harshly, “Your sister has been nothing but loving to you. In fact, she’s gone above and beyond what most sisters would do for their brothers in a situation like this one. And you know why she does that for you, don’t you?”

He avoids my gaze, glancing down to his cut-up knuckles. “Because of where we’ve come from.”

“Yeah, you had it hard, I’ll give you that.” I spit venom with my words, “but she’s had it harder. Not only did she have a shitty mother, but her brother is following in her mother’s footsteps.”

His head snaps up then, gaze darkens. “Don’t compare me to my mother.”

I raise my finger, pointing at him, pressing on. “And yet, McKenna stands by you. She’d do anything to help you. Fuck, I think she’d love you regardless of anything that you did. Do you have any understanding of how rare that is?”

He hangs his head. “I know how good she is to me.”

“Then don’t fucking spew bullshit at me,” I snarl back, clenching my fists at my sides. “You sold me and my friends out for money because you were saving your own ass. I don’t care what you tell her, but don’t you fucking dare”—I say the latter with a little more force—“put any of your shit back on her.”

“I—”

The fact he wants to speak only angers me more. “Face what you’ve done like a man,” I snarl at him, “and own up to it. Keep McKenna out of it.”

He finally lifts his head, eyes haunted. “I love her.”

“You don’t love a damn thing but yourself,” I say with a snort. “Loving her is protecting her. Loving her is cherishing how good she is to you. Loving her is not putting her danger. Loving her is not making her work her ass off to pay off your goddamn debts.”

Silence falls between us. Two men staring each other down, but it’s a game I won’t lose. I can’t lose, because if I lose, I lose McKenna. And that I simply cannot allow to happen. I’ll give her the time she needs. I’ll hope she makes the right choice by picking me. But I won’t force her into anything, like her brother has done.

Evan finally blinks, the color gone from his face. “I can fix this with her.”

My jaw tightens, as do my fists. He still doesn’t get it. “You don’t have to fix anything with her,” I say, beyond frustrated with him. “She is not the problem here.” I reach into my pocket, taking out the paper that I’d printed out at the lawyer’s office, and tossing it onto the bed by his feet. “Do yourself a favor and fix yourself.”

Done with him, and done with all this shit, I turn again to leave when he calls, “Thank you.”

I don’t look back this time, striding toward the door. “Thank McKenna,” I say, staring at the empty hallway. “I did this for her, not you.”

McKenna

My feet are heavy as I move toward Evan’s hospital room, two coffee cups in hand. I feel like I’ve gone through the stages of grief while dealing with all this. Denial happened when I found myself threatened. Anger, oh, yeah Evan heard it from me for the last hour. Bargaining, yeah, I’d done that, too. Depression, I think that’s just a given. Acceptance, I got there once the anger fizzled out. Now my head hurts, and I’m not sure if I should feel guilty about wanting to be with Gabe instead of my brother. And yet my heart can’t fathom leaving Evan while he’s injured. I’ve racked my brain, trying to think of a way to make Gabe and Evan friendly toward each other, but even I know that’s wishful thinking. Before all this, I thought maybe Gabe could forgive Evan, if only he knew him and understood his addiction. But Evan had put me in danger. Knowing Gabe that was an unforgivable offence.

If I’m being honest, I think it’s unforgivable, too.

I heave a long sigh as I enter the room, figuring I won’t get things straight in my mind anytime soon.

Evan’s sitting up in bed, his good eye a little wide, and asks, “Did you see him?”

“Did that cop, Hennessy, come back?” I ask, entering farther into the room. Like he’d said back at the factory, he came to take Evan’s totally fabricated statement of being mugged and beaten up by two men, and the cop blessedly believed every word. My brother’s a top-notch liar.

“No,” Evan says, shaking his head slowly. “Gabe was here.”

I stop dead, gripping the paper cups in my hands, not allowing them to fall, and frown at my brother. “Gabe came to see you?”

He nods. “You honestly just missed him.”

I quickly move to Evan’s side and sit cross-legged on the end of the bed. I offer Evan his coffee, keeping mine hugged in my hand. “What did he want?”

Evan shrugs, squinting the one open eye. “Just to talk.”

I watch my brother closely. While other people believe his lies, I can read right through them. “I told Gabe not to come see you until you recover. Why do men never listen to me?”

Evan cocks his head, gives a knowing look. “Because maybe it wasn’t your choice to decide that.”

I roll my eyes, sip my coffee, and cringe at the stale taste, glancing over Evan’s beaten face. “Since I don’t see any more injuries,” I eventually say, “I take it that the conversation went okay.”

“He hates me.”

Not a surprising answer. And I won’t disagree just to make Evan feel better. He deserves to feel like shit, and I hope the weight of what he’s done will stay with him, making him do better. “Did Gabe tell you that he hated you?”

“No,” Evan says, voice small. “But I saw it in his eyes. He hates me, and for that I can’t blame him. Look what I did to you.” His chin quivers. “Look at your face.”

“I’m okay,” I say, squeezing his hand, hating the sadness forming in my brother’s eyes. It gets me every time. “And you’re okay. That means we’re okay.” I study Evan and can see he’s still hiding things from me. “What else did he say?”

Evan looks down at his coffee cup then takes a long sip before addressing me again. “Well, he also gave me this.” He reaches under the blanket and pulls out a few pieces of paper.

I take them from him and read over the words, seeing it’s about a three-month program at an addiction treatment center in Arizona. That’s not all. The next piece of paper is a first-class plane ticket leaving tomorrow night.

“Gabe gave you this?” I ask, looking at Evan again.

He nods, slumping against the bed. “I guess he wants me gone.”

“Well, that’s not Gabe’s choice,” I retort, using Evan’s words back on him. “But to be honest, I think he’s likely doing this for me, not because he wants you out of my life.” I slide my fingers against the plane ticket, knowing all of this comes from a good place that I simply doubt Evan can understand. “Gabe probably wants you to get better so that you can’t put me in danger.”

Evan takes another sip of his coffee, one eye fixated on me. “When did you guys get so serious?” he asks after he swallows.

It’s a surprise, I’m sure. The last time Evan and I spoke about Gabe, I’d told him that I was pretty sure I was in love with Gabe, but that love for me never did come easy. He was my boss, and he wouldn’t cross that line.

Now, of course, I can’t help but think that maybe we both owe Evan a thank-you. If this situation had never happened, Gabe likely would never have crossed that line. And now that we had, there was no going back.

Although, all the same, I’m not exactly sure how we can move forward either.

“I guess through all this, we just became closer,” I finally say to Evan. “But I’m not sure where things stand now or how this will all work out.” Feeling weight press against my chest, I drop my head into my hands, rubbing my eyes, not caring that I am likely rubbing mascara everywhere. “Everything is just kind of a mess.”

Silence falls, which soon becomes heavy enough that I drop my hands, looking at Evan again.

Tears well in Evan’s eyes, and his voice blisters. “I always do this to you.”

I sigh, taking his hand, doing what I always do—comfort him. He does always do this to me. In fact, this time was worse than ever because he endangered me. But I knew addiction, I understood it. Addiction makes Evan a bad guy, even though deep down he isn’t. “It was different this time,” I say softly, not to point blame, but to explain. “You put me in danger.”

“I know.” Evan squeezes my hand, tears spilling over. “Fuck, I know. I fucked up so bad.”

Sure, I can tell Evan the things someone might ask Evan. Why do you keep doing this? Or even, please get help. But my words would fall on deaf ears, as they always had. “I don’t know what to say anymore,” I tell him honestly, baring parts of myself I usually don’t bare to him. “I love you. I’ll always love you. But what you did to me . . . to Gabe . . . that can’t ever happen again, Evan.”

“It won’t. I—”

I hold up my hand, stopping him. “Don’t say it. Please just don’t. So many broken promises. I can’t hear them anymore.” I don’t know why those words affect me, but they do.

I realize, apart from my grandmother, Gabe’s the only one who’s stood by me, never letting me down. Sure, he hurt me in the beginning by accusing me. God, did he hurt me when all this began, but he hasn’t hurt me since. In fact, he’s done what he could to make it up to me. And when the time came, I’d picked my brother, a guy who’d repeatedly hurt me—and would continue to do so, I knew that—over Gabe.

I watch Evan’s tears flood his bruised cheekbones, and I stare into his good eye, as he stares back at me. There’s so much being said without having to say anything at all. It’s the complication of what’s before us. It’s knowing that I can’t believe a word Evan says, and that all he wants to do is say them.

“This is a fucked up thing,” he eventually says, breaking the silence.

I nod and sigh. “Addiction is.”

He places his coffee cup on the table next to him, wipes his tears, and sniffs. “I hate that you got involved in all this.”

“Me, too,” I agree, “because it makes all of this so complicated now.” I shut my eyes, wishing for an easy fix that I could reach out and grab onto, somehow making all this better. “I don’t know what to do anymore.”

And that’s the crux of all this, I realize.

“What do you mean?” Evan asks.

I release Evan’s hand and move away from him, feeling oddly numb. “I don’t know what to tell you anymore,” I admit to the both of us. “I don’t even know what I should do.” I’d gone to the meetings for families of gambling addicts. I’d learned not to support his addiction by giving him money. Sure, I broke the rules by paying for his apartment, but no brother of mine would sleep on the streets, and I’d never given him a cent from my own pocket that he could use to gamble. “On top of all that,” I add, “I don’t know what to do about Gabe.”

“Seems pretty simple to me,” Evan says. “Stay with him. That guy is in love with you.”

“You don’t know that.”

Evan pauses, watching me closely. Suddenly, his eyes widen. “You don’t know, do you?” he whispers.

“Know what?” I frown.

Evan draws in a long deep breath before addressing me. “Gabe paid more than just my debt to Marcus. I heard that guy who carried me out of the factory say something to someone on the phone when he found me.”

“What did he say?” I gasp.

“That Gabe also paid one hundred and fifty thousand dollars of interest.”

My blood chilled. “Are you telling me that Gabe paid Marcus two hundred thousand dollars?”

Evan nods.

It’s like I’m staring at my past and then suddenly my future breaks free and it’s all I can see now. Everything I know, and everything I am suddenly shifts, and I’m seeing the world in a way I simply hadn’t before.

With Gabe’s selfless act, the McKenna Archer who walked into this room moments ago fades away, and I become someone new . . . someone better . . . someone who’s completely decided.