CHAPTER 7

Isobel

Brock glanced at the clock on the wall and back at me. “We have to go now.”

“We?”

“You don’t think I’m letting you go alone?”

Did he really think I needed someone to take care of things for me? “I’ve handled things for the last nine years for myself.”

“And you wouldn’t have had to—”

“Fine.” I stood from my seat. “We don’t have time to sit here and argue over this.” My nerves were right on the edge. If something happened to my mom and Michael there would be hell to pay. And sitting there trying to convince Brock that I’d be fine was wasting time we didn’t have.

Brock stood and walked toward the door. “Let’s go then.”

I followed Brock to the garage. How had things in my life gotten worse? There was no way I could let Brock get hurt in his unnecessary need to protect me. I’d been protecting myself for years. I thought about the way he said he slaughtered Nathan earlier and thought of all the ways I would have liked to make him suffer. After everything the bastard put me through, it was the least he deserved. Realistically, I knew the likelihood of Brock getting hurt was low. People feared him for a reason, but that didn’t mean there couldn’t be a first time. Right then, I was more concerned for my own family.

His broad shoulders filled the doorframe in the kitchen that led to the garage, blocking the cherry red Chevelle that sat on the other side. I’d seen him in it once on the street. It hadn’t surprised me. He’d talked about rebuilding one when he finally had the money to do it. Something he and his dad could do together. He moved down the stairs, revealing the vehicle, which happened to be more impressive than I’d noticed passing by.

I ran my hand along the smooth, red finish. “You did it.”

He pulled the driver’s door open and climbed in. “Did what?”

“Finished your Chevelle.”

His eyes snapped to mine. “I did. My dad helped me.”

I opened the passenger door and slid into the seat. “I always knew you’d have this car.”

For a moment our gazes locked and I foolishly hoped Brock would see me again. That I’d be able to find the boy from long ago. Maybe someday I could have what I’d always dreamed of. But just like the boy, the girl was gone. Brock broke the connection, focusing instead on starting the car and backing out of the garage. My chest ached as I wondered what kind of man Brock would have become if I’d run when my mother told me. Taken him with me. Those days were long in the past and I’d learned long ago, the only time worth dealing with was the present.

“Where’s your brother’s place?”

I realized we were already on the main highway, heading toward the city. “He’s living not far from my mom.”

“Good. We’ll be able to get her to his house quickly once we arrive.”

“I was going to tell her to meet us there.”

“No. Just in case someone is watching we don’t want them to see us arrive.”

I nodded and gave him the address, figuring Brock had a plan in mind. Since, at the moment, I didn’t have one, I decided to be open to his. “Any idea how we’re going to keep them safe?”

“Yes.” When he didn’t elaborate, I pushed.

“Are you going to tell me?”

“No.”

The one-word answers were beginning to grate on my nerves. I wanted to demand he tell me what he was thinking. Hell, it was what I’d done for the last nine years. Every day I told the men who worked for Nathan what I wanted, and they jumped to do my bidding. If I thought for one second it would get me my way with Brock, I’d do it. Except in this situation, I knew it would have the opposite effect. Brock wouldn’t respond to being told what to do by me. I had a feeling that would only work for someone with the last name of Hawes. At this point in my life, I’d learned to use whatever advantage I had in a situation. Just like Brock wasn’t the same person, neither was I. Never again would I leave myself in the position to be at someone else’s mercy. I needed to protect myself.

Brock turned down my brother’s street, and I directed him to the detached garage behind the house. Even this late at night his car would be recognized instantly sitting on the street. My only hope was that no one saw us there in the first place. Brock shut off the engine and turned to me. I opened the passenger door and gestured to the back of the house.

“We can use the back door.”

I crossed the yard and pushed the door open, disarming the alarm before Brock led us into the laundry room. “Michael,” I called, poking my head into the kitchen. Moving farther into the room, I yelled for my brother again.

Footsteps sounded fast and heavy upstairs, then traveled down the stairs. He came barreling around the corner, dressed in just a pair of boxers and his hair standing in every direction. “Amanda? What the hell are you doing here? If Nathan finds—” His gaze landed on Brock. Michael took a step back, his eyes darting between the two of us. “What the fuck is going on?” His voice was still rough with sleep.

I took a step forward, my hands held in the air. “Relax, Michael.”

He started to pace the room, running his hand through his hair and tugging on the ends. “Relax? How am I supposed to relax?” Mid-step he turned to face me. “You’re here in the middle of the night with the muscle of the Hawes family. Not Nathan. And you want me to relax? The last time you defied him, he put you in the hospital for over two weeks.”

Out of the corner of my eye, I saw a vein pulsing at Brock’s temple. I brushed it off and moved in front of Michael, hoping to get him to listen.

He grabbed my upper arms in a tight grip, his eyes boring into mine. “I won’t let you get hurt again. I can’t protect you from Nathan, but please listen to me. You need to go home before he realizes you’re gone. I’m not sure what he’ll do if he wakes up in the middle of the night. He can’t—”

“Fucker’s dead,” Brock cut in.

Michael’s head whipped around to Brock. “What did you say?”

Brock crossed his arms over his chest, his biceps accentuated by the move. “I said, he’s dead.”

Michael’s eyes went wide, jaw slack. Slowly his gaze returned to mine.

I nodded. “Michael, Nathan’s dead.”

He gave me a quick shake. “Why didn’t you run when you had the chance?”

“Run? Run from what?”

Michael shook his head. “Wasn’t being with one monster enough? You get rid of Nathan and now you come here with the man who probably killed him?”

“While I’d love to take all credit, Miller had a hand in it.” The muscles in Brock’s arms flexed.

Michael had lost his freaking mind. I couldn’t believe the things he was saying about Brock, especially when he knew how I’d felt about him through the years. Knowing that my brother wasn’t thinking, I reared back.

“If Brock wanted me dead, he would’ve killed me when he’d taken me from the house hours ago. Instead, he offered to come over here and help me find a way to keep you and Mom safe, so remember that the next time you want to call someone a monster.”

The muscles under my fingers relaxed slightly.

Michael watched us for a long moment, then dropped his head and sighed. “Jesus Christ. Sorry. But what else am I supposed to think? For years I’ve watched you suffer with that piece of shit because of me. I just don’t want you to end up in the same situation.”

“It wasn’t your fault that I got stuck with Nathan. That was all Dad, and if he hadn’t tried to put a wedge between Brock and me when we were younger, then maybe none of us would be in the positions we are now. And I never said anything about Brock and me being together. He’s helping us.”

There was a part of my heart that broke a little thinking about it. There wasn’t a moment in the years since I’d last seen Brock as Amanda, that I’d stopped loving him. Dreams of my time with him were sometimes the only thing to get me through each day. But I knew we’d both changed too much for that to even be in the realm of possibility. He used his fist and size to make money, and I was no longer the girl who needed a protector. I could do that shit myself.

“If he’s helping us, then what do we need to do?”

Brock stepped forward, dislodging my hand, his figure imposing even in Michael’s immense kitchen. “First, we need you to get your mother here. Don’t tell her anything more than you need to and definitely not the truth.” Brock glanced at his watch. “And don’t waste time.”

Michael looked over at me, his brows lifted. “Amanda?”

“Call her.”

It was obvious he wasn’t going to listen to what Brock said unless I told him to, and we needed my mom there sooner rather than later. Michael shook his head and spun on his heel and left the room. Jerk better be grabbing his phone. I wandered farther into the kitchen. It wasn’t often I was allowed to visit my brother. Usually only when I could sneak away without Nathan knowing or when Nathan forced them to come to us. Bastard always wanted to flaunt his money.

Whenever they arrived, my heart would soar, and I’d do everything I could to relieve the fear in their eyes. At least, that was how it was in the beginning. Then my father died. After a while, I’d changed so much in the process of keeping myself safe under Nathan’s roof, that I struggled to find a way to offer them the comfort they needed. Soon enough, I no longer recognized the person staring back at me in the mirror. I found myself sneaking over to my brother’s house less often. I began to wonder if I belonged with my family anymore.

“Why does he still call you Amanda?” Brock’s voice pulled me from my thoughts.

“What?” I asked over my shoulder.

“When we got here, Michael called you Amanda. What if Marcello had been with you?” His brows were narrowed over his eyes, making him look even more intimidating.

“I wasn’t allowed to visit my family.” I sighed. Exhaustion took over from the eventful night. “Nathan always forced them to come to us. Wanted to show off his money. In front of Nathan he’d call me Isobel, but Michael knows that if I’m here I’d be alone.”

“Why in the hell would you risk coming here?”

I whipped around. “Because I didn’t have to be Isobel Marcello here. I could just be Amanda.”

“That doesn’t mean it was a smart choice.”

I rolled my eyes. “It’s not like it matters now, anyway. Nathan’s dead.”

Brock clenched his hands into fists. “You were lucky.”

“No,” I snapped. “I chose to not let that asshole make my choices. I’d already lost who I was along the way. I wouldn’t lose my family too.”

He was quiet for a moment, the tension draining from his shoulders. “I guess that makes two of us.”

I scoffed. “At least you had a choice.”

“Not as much of a choice as you think,” he said so quietly I almost didn’t hear him.

Before I got a chance to question him about it, Michael came back into the room. I had every intention of going back to that part of the conversation later. Of course Brock had a choice. He made the decision to join the Haweses’ business, instead of going to college.

“She’s on her way.” He looked over at Brock. “What did Nathan finally do to put him on the Haweses’ radar? They’ve ignored his brutality for years.”

“He tried to kill my boss’s girlfriend. They knew what he was doing, but killing him doesn’t mean the brutality ends. Some fucker will take his place and continue right where he left off. You don’t take down an entire organization by only getting rid of their leader.”

“Jimmy Delgado would be my guess.” Michael leaned back, gripping the counter behind him.

“For a man on the straight and narrow who doesn’t see himself as a monster, you know an awful lot about Marcello’s inner circle,” Brock causally remarked.

Michael’s eyes narrowed. “Yeah, well, my father made sure I was well acquainted with the men Marcello forced him to hire. Not like I expected him to take Marcello’s money in the first place.”

“What I didn’t expect was to find your sister married to the bastard.”

Michael sucked in a breath. “That one’s on me.”

I jumped from my seat and wrapped my arms around Michael’s biceps. “No, it’s not. Dad did this to all of us.” A knock sounded on the front door. I glanced up at him. “Now, let’s see if we can figure a way out of it and get on with our lives.”

Michael nodded. He straightened and left the room to answer the door. Brock and I stayed in the kitchen on the off chance it was one of Nathan’s men already looking for me. We’d be able to hear their voices coming down the hall, giving us enough time to defend ourselves if need be. I stood near Brock, listening carefully to the conversation as it drew closer.

A female voice drifted to my ear, and I let out the breath I’d been holding. Killing the fuckers that followed Nathan around like a pack of wild dogs would have been my pleasure. But I wasn’t thrilled at the idea of my mother and brother seeing how low I’d sunk. Michael had called Brock a monster earlier. He had no idea that the monster in the room was actually me.

“Amanda.” She gasped. “What are you doing here? You can’t get—” Exactly like Michael, her eyes darted to the additional guest in the kitchen. Her hand flew to her chest. “Brock! What are you doing here?”

I gestured to the table. “Let’s sit.” After everyone took their seats, I continued. “Right now, all you need to know is that Nathan is dead.”

Mom’s eyes darted to Brock. She was smart enough to figure out what had happened without me having to say it.

“And Brock knows the truth.”

Her gaze snapped back to mine, boring into me.

“All of it.”

I wanted it to be very clear to my mother there was no reason to walk on eggshells. The skeletons were out of the closet. The dirty laundry was on the line to dry and it was time to clean up the mess.

“His people will be looking for you, expecting you to take over.”

I nodded. “I know. That’s why we’re here.”

“We need to get you and Michael out of the state,” Brock said. “Or we need to find a way to prove to Marcello’s men that you have no idea where Amanda is.”

“Where are we supposed to go if we leave?” Mom asked, wiping at non-existent crumbs on the table.

“I have favors I can call in, but I wasn’t making those calls unless you were willing to leave.”

Mom shook her head. “We can’t leave.”

Brock stood from his chair so fast it hit the floor. “Why the fuck not? Are you really that afraid to live without your wealthy lifestyle? Don’t know how you’ll live without maids and drivers? I shouldn’t be surprised. You sold your own daughter to keep it. Let her suffer with that asshole for the last nine years.” He pointed back and forth between the two of them. “Both of you.”

I jumped up, my own chair falling to the ground. “Don’t you dare blame them. My father did this to us. They suffered as much as I did.”

“Bullshit. I can’t imagine either one of them suffered a quarter of what you did at his hands. Maybe Michael spent some time in the hospital after Marcello released him, but you had to deal with him on a daily basis.”

I stepped forward and shoved my finger into his chest. “And if it meant saving Michael, I’d do it all over again in a heartbeat. I found a way to survive all on my own.”

He growled. “If it wasn’t for all their needs to still be wealthy, your father would have never needed the money. If the son-of-a-bitch was still alive, I’d kill him myself for putting you in that situation.”

“Goddammit. It was my choice to go, and Mom tried to get me out of it. Don’t you understand that I would do anything for my family? Even suffer in a horrible marriage to a raving psychopath. They’re what matters. So stop trying to make them feel more guilt than I’m sure they already do.”

“No.” My mother’s voice broke into my angry tirade. “He’s right. It is my fault.” She hung her head, her voice coming out in a choked whisper.

In an instant, I spun on my heel to face her. “It’s not. You tried to give me an out. Tried to get me to leave that night, but I wouldn’t go.”

When she looked up, the tears in her eyes called to a part of me that had been buried for a long time. I forced it down even further. We didn’t have time for heartfelt conversations and trips down memory lane. But there was obviously something Mom needed to say, so I’d let her say it and move onto the next problem. Lifting a shaky hand, she fingered the long strands of my dark hair.

“I told your father I had a bad feeling about the money. How readily someone was to bail out the company. It wasn’t as if we’d start turning a huge profit immediately.” She wiped at the single tear that had rolled down her face. “I knew it. Deep in my gut I knew to tell your father not to take the money, but when he asked me what I thought I didn’t say anything. I didn’t speak up, afraid of what would happen to us if we lost the company. Instead, I lost my husband and my daughter, all for a lifestyle we could have lived without.”

I made my best attempt to reassure her. “You haven’t lost me.”

Mom stroked my hair gently. “I’m not so sure about that. With everything you’ve seen, I can’t imagine you being the same carefree girl you once were.”

I knew she was right. I wanted to be Amanda again. She would have never survived all that Marcello did to her and in front of her. Life had dealt me a shitty hand, but I was determined to make the best of it with what I had. All my plans no longer fit who I was. That didn’t mean I couldn’t be a new version of Amanda. One that was not only strong, but maybe someday, I could find the compassionate, caring person I used to be.

“You see. Brock’s right. We don’t deserve the help. Whatever happens to us happens.”

“That would make the last nine years not worth a damn thing. It would mean everything I went through was for nothing.”

I turned to Brock, wanting to push the conversation along. Then I prayed the look that used to get me whatever I wanted when it came to Brock would still work.

“Are you willing to go?”

Mom glanced over at Michael, who nodded, then over at Brock. “Yes. But why would you help us? We’re the ones who did our best to keep you away from Amanda.”

“I know you thought I was never good enough for her, and that’s definitely not the case, but a war is about to break out between the Haweses and Marcello’s organization, and I will not let Amanda get in the middle of it, and she will only stay safe if you are. I’ve already been to her funeral once and I don’t want to have to go again.”

“When do we leave?” Michael asked. “I can’t not go to work. Marcello has people there watching.”

“Which is why you’re leaving tonight before anyone wakes up and realizes you’re gone. You’re both going to get in the car and leave now.” Brock pulled the phone from his pants pocket.

“Where are we going? Marcello’s men will know my car.”

Brock dialed a number and put the phone to his ear. “I’m going to take care of that right now.”