Kinley

Within an hour of seeing the news of Marcus’s death, I was packed and on the road to Nashville. Part of me knew that Foster and Anavrin were right, and it was crazy, but I couldn’t leave him alone in that situation. No matter what he did, I still care about him.

I’m relieved that the news reports were wrong, and Marcus is alive, but I’m still glad I came. He needs someone, and I’m the only option right now.

The look on his face when the doctor told him Marcus’s leg had to be amputated was awful. It’s a type of grief I’ve never witnessed firsthand and to have to be the one to make the call—though it sounded as if there really was no other choice—my heart breaks for him. Even with the best case scenario, this is going to be a long, difficult road for his family.

I’ve seen a few sides of Holt, but never this broken, scared one. He doesn’t say a word throughout the drive and it isn’t until I park at my hotel that he seems to focus a little. “Sully arranged a room.”

Shrugging, I turn off the car. “I have one here. I don’t think you should be alone. We can swing by yours in the morning for a change of clothes.”

He slings his messenger bag over his shoulder as we get out. “I have some clothes.”

I’m relieved to see none of the paparazzi followed us, or if they did, they’re at least being discreet about it. His hand slips into mine as we walk through the lobby, and he keeps hold of it on our elevator ride and walk to my room.

Once we’re inside, he pulls some clothes from his bag. “I’m going to borrow your shower. I smell like the hospital.”

“Sure.”

While he’s getting cleaned up, I order some food from room service and turn down both the beds. I’m happy I opted for two, but I knew him staying with me would be a possibility.

My phone beeps with a text from Anavrin.

She replies with an eye rolling emoji. Telling people not to worry really is pointless.

Holt emerges from the bathroom, dressed in sweats and a tee, his damp hair wild. I know the blank expression on his face is born of shock and grief, but the sight makes my stomach knot with anxiety. I don’t know how to help him.

His head jerks up when there’s a knock at the door.

“It’s just room service. I ordered dinner.”

He sits at the small table. “Thanks, I’m not really hungry.”

He may not feel hungry, but when I set a plate of chicken alfredo in front of him, he inhales it. I don’t try to get him to talk. He’s exhausted.

After I set the dishes out for room service to pick up, I turn out the lights, leaving only the bathroom one lit so we can find our way around if we wake before dawn. I doubt he will.

“You can have that bed,” I tell him, gesturing to the one against a wall.

Like an obedient child, he nods and climbs into bed while I crawl under the covers in the bed across the room. It’s silent for a few moments, and I assume he’s already asleep when he says, “Kinley, thanks for coming.”

“You’re welcome. Try to get some sleep. I put our phones on charge and your ringer is turned up if the hospital calls.”

A few minutes later, he’s snoring lightly, and I’m wide awake, staring at him.

Nothing I’ve been feeling seemed relevant with the tragedy he’s dealing with, but now that he’s taken care of, I let the tears fill my eyes. Even at his worst, he’s so attractive. His dark hair framing a face that bears a faint frown. He can’t escape the situation even in his sleep.

It hurts to look at him. To remember how it felt when he touched me. How his lips felt on mine. I thought I was getting over him, but being this close to him, I know I have a long way to go. Because nothing has changed when it comes to us. I’ll help him through this and return to my life at Foxhaven and all the plans I’ve made.

When sleep finally takes me, I’m happy to go.

Early morning light strikes my face through a slit in the curtains, and I wake with a start, glancing around until I remember where I am and what has happened. Holt lies motionless in the other bed, his eyelids sealed tight. The hollow spot in my chest calls out for me to go to him, crawl in his bed, and kiss those parted lips. It’d be so easy.

It would also be wrong. I can’t be with him and I won’t lead him on when he’s struggling with a horrific situation.

It’s early, so I let him sleep a bit longer while I get a shower and dress. When I emerge from the bathroom, he’s sitting on the edge of the bed, staring at his phone.

“Any news?” I ask, pulling on my shoes.

He runs a hand through his messy hair. “The nurse said Dad had a good night, and Marcus is showing some improvement too. He woke for a few seconds, but with all the drugs they have him on and the head injury, he was disoriented.” Getting to his feet, he grabs his wallet and phone, tucking both in his pockets. “Fuck, maybe he’s better off not knowing until after it’s over.”

He doesn’t say much after we leave the room and head for the hospital. “Holt.”

“Mmm?” He glances at me like he just realized I’m in the car with him.

“You really didn’t have a choice. You know that, right?”

His face is reflected in the window when he turns away again. “He’s going to hate me. There have been a lot of times I’ve hated him. Especially after what he did to you, but he’s never hated me.”

Seeing him in such pain and worry over his family, every bit of me hurts for him. I pull into a parking spot and lay my hand on his. “It’s going to be hard for both of you, but you’ll get through it.”

“I shouldn’t care. He almost killed Dad along with himself. We’ve done nothing but try to help him, turned our lives upside down for him, and this is what he does. Selfish son of a bitch.”

There are no words necessary as I let him vent.

“He’s always been the one to get neck deep in shit, then wait for Dad or me to pull him out. No matter how much he’s given, so many opportunities that others would kill for, he just pisses it all away. Now fucking look! Just look where we are!” His voice shakes with anger and despair.

His dark eyes meet mine, and he shakes his head. “I don’t know what’s right anymore. The first time I walked away and tried to have a life instead of being a background character in his, they nearly died.”

A knot grows in my throat, and I lean across the seat and wrap my arms around him, boundaries be damned. “You didn’t cause this. You’re entitled to your own happiness and there’s nothing wrong with going after it. Marcus is your brother, not your child. He’s not your responsibility. Holt, this isn’t your fault.”

Nodding, he swallows hard and mutters, “Let’s just get today over with.”

Holt and I sit with Marcus until they take him back to the operating room. He stirs a little, but doesn’t wake. I can’t imagine the trauma he’s facing, waking to find he’s missing a leg. After making sure the doctors know where to find us, we head back downstairs to Grayson’s room to await the outcome of the surgery together.

Grayson is improving, but the doctors say the random dizziness and nausea could take months to completely clear up. His balance is affected, and he also has trouble with bright lights and loud noises, so his room is very dim when we enter.

“How is he?” Grayson asks as soon as we step through the door.

“Stable. They just took him back. The surgery will take four to six hours,” Holt tells him, taking a seat on the edge of his bed. “They’re amputating at the knee.”

They look at each other for a moment before Grayson’s shoulders start to shake with sobs.

Holt hugs him, being careful of his cast and IV. “I’m so sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. He did this to himself. How many years have we tried to stop it? We knew he was going to seriously injure or kill himself. I just didn’t know how to stop him.”

Holt sits back. “He’ll recover from this. Maybe it’ll be what wakes him up.”

The doctor comes in to examine Grayson. I step into the hall and use the opportunity to check in with my hotel manager, Anavrin, and Foster. By the time I’ve finished, the doctor is gone, and Holt is chuckling at something Grayson said. They both look a little better.

“I get out of this place tomorrow,” Grayson says, smiling at me.

Holt looks apprehensive at the thought, and I know why. His father will need someone to keep an eye on him, and Holt can’t be two places at once.

“What? You don’t like having nurses at your beck and call twenty-four seven?” I tease.

“Not if it means I have to suffer through this horrible hospital food. I’m wasting away.” He turns to Holt. “Now, I want to know why you two stayed at a hotel instead of my house. You have a key, don’t you?”

Holt’s grin is sheepish. “I don’t know. Didn’t occur to me.”

Grayson laughs and shakes his head at me. “I raised two dipshits.”

My stomach growls, reminding me we haven’t eaten yet today. “Can you eat?” I ask Grayson. “I’ll go grab us some food.”

“I’d kill for a hamburger.”

Holt shakes his head, and I cross my arms. “It’s going to be a long day. You need to eat. So, tell me what you want, or I’ll choose.”

The look of glee on his dad’s face doesn’t escape his notice, and the corner of his lip twitches up. “Chicken sandwich.”

“Okay, I’ll be right back.”

Grayson’s dry chuckle follows me out of the room, and I hear him say, “I like her.”

An idea comes to me while I’m waiting for our food. I know Holt is worried how he’ll handle everything with Grayson and Marcus needing care, especially if they’re releasing Grayson tomorrow. Foxhaven is doing okay in my absence, and there’s no reason I can’t stay a while to help. I’ll stay with Grayson while Holt tends to Marcus.

When I get back to the room, Grayson and I dig into our food, and I’m glad to see Holt do the same. About three hours after they took him back, a surgeon comes to let us know everything is going as expected and he should be in recovery in about an hour. Another doctor enters and asks to speak with Holt about some paperwork. He rushes off, leaving me alone with Grayson.

He struggles to push himself upright in bed and regards me. “Thank you for coming. He may not admit it, but Holt would be a mess without you by his side.”

“He’s strong and stubborn. I’m sure he’ll be okay.”

“Yeah, he’s my stable one.” He grins at me. “Believe it or not. He just gets caught up in his brother’s mess. Don’t get me wrong. I love my boys more than life, but sometimes I want to bang their heads together.”

Laughter pours out of me. “I understand. I have some family drama going on myself.”

“Amazing how family can be a burden and a blessing all at once. Holt will run himself ragged trying to make everything right for everyone.”

I pull the chair closer to his bedside. “About that. While Holt’s not here to argue with me, I want to ask you something. Since Marcus is going to need so much help, I was thinking I could stay with you, if you don’t mind having me.”

Grayson grins at me. “That’s really sweet of you, but I’ll be fine on my own.”

He chuckles at the look I give him. “You’re going to be dealing with dizziness, nausea, and who knows what else from your concussion. And that cast isn’t coming off for a good while.” I gesture to his arm. “You can’t even drive right now, so don’t give me any of that tough guy shit.”

Grayson shakes his head. “Holt really screwed himself when he lied to you. Fine, I guess I will need a ride back and forth to visit Marcus. And there’s no reason for you to stay in a hotel.”

Sitting back, I cross my legs, satisfied. “Good, then that’s settled.”

Holt walks in. “What’s settled?”

“Kinley is going to take me home tomorrow and stay at the house with me until I can drive myself again,” Grayson says.

Holt stares at me for a moment, then nods, taking a seat beside me. “Thanks, Bug.”

It’s the first time he’s called me that since our break-up and my heart spasms. The longing way he looks at me doesn’t help. I’m walking a dangerous line here. I don’t want to lead him on or make him think there’s any chance we’ll get back together, but I’d have a hard time saying no to him now. Even though I know he’s just looking for comfort. As soon as the storm passes, I’d become as expendable as I was before. I need to get away, but I can’t leave him alone with this.

The next few hours pass while we talk, and I get to know Grayson a little better. A nurse pops in twice, once to tell us Marcus is in the recovery room, and again to let Holt know he can see him.

Holt returns looking pale and shaky. “It’s so strange to see him without his leg. I can’t believe this is happening.”

“Was he awake?” Grayson asks.

“He opened his eyes and looked at me a couple of times, but he wasn’t really aware. They said to give it a few hours.”

The expression on his face says he’d be happy to wait a few years. I know he has to be dreading the inevitable, when Marcus wakes and realizes what he’s done and what he’s lost.

I only hope he won’t take it out on Holt.

It’s almost midnight when Marcus finally comes to enough to realize what happened to him. They have a doctor by his side in minutes to explain everything. The brain bleed and shunt—now removed—the amputation and his future treatment. He isn’t showing any obvious signs of cognitive issues, which is another big win considering he could’ve been learning how to talk all over again as well as walk. I wait in the hall, but I can overhear the devastating conversation taking place inside.

“Many people live normal and rewarding lives with a missing limb,” the doctor says. “When you’re fully healed, you’ll be fitted with a prosthesis.”

“You gave them permission to chop off my leg,” he snaps, and my heart sinks.

“It was the only choice, Marc. I’m sorry.” Holt’s voice is strained.

Marcus scoffs. “Yeah, I’m sure it had nothing to do with the fact I tried to fuck your girlfriend. Why didn’t Dad stop this? Where is he?”

The doctors have explained his memory would be spotty and that some parts may never come back.

“He’s in his own hospital room with a concussion and a broken arm. He was in the car with you.”

“Now it fucking makes sense. You want to make me pay. You both do.”

His voice raises higher and higher, and I peek around the corner to see him fighting to get out of bed. “Get the fuck out of my room and my life! I don’t want to see you or him! Get out! Get out! Get the fuck out!” His hysterical screams are calmed when the doctor shoots something into the IV. He must’ve known such a response was likely to have it on hand.

Pain is etched in every line of Holt’s face when he and the doctor step into the hall. The doctor lays a hand on his shoulder. “Anger is not an uncommon reaction to such news. And you need to bear in mind that he’s recovering from a brain injury. His emotions and thought processes are going to be affected.”

Holt runs a hand through his hair. “What do we do now?”

“Give it time and let him process.”

A week has passed and Marcus hasn’t spoken a word to Holt or Grayson. He hates the world. Holt is dealing with it better since he’s seen the improvement in his physical health.

“He can blame me for the rest of his life, Bug. But he’ll be alive,” he tells me, taking a seat on his father’s couch.

Though Marcus won’t have anything to do with him, Holt has been staying at the hospital, making sure he’s there if he needs him while I take care of Grayson. I hate to add more to his plate, but there’s no choice.

“I’m worried about your dad. He needs to rest, and all this stress.” I wave my hand to the front windows where the crowd of paparazzi is gathered. “Isn’t good for him.”

“I know,” he sighs. “I’m open to suggestions.”

“Marcus won’t speak to Grayson, and the trips to the hospital to be constantly rebuffed probably aren’t helping his state of mind when he’s still dealing with his own physical injuries. Do you think you could talk him into coming back to Foxhaven with me? I can put him in a comfortable suite where he can rest, and he’ll have the hotel staff at his disposal, or he can stay in my cabin with me. We’re only a little over an hour away if there’s an emergency and we need to come back.”

Silence fills the room for a few moments before he gives me a small resigned smile. “Any argument I have for that is a selfish one. I don’t want you to leave.”

“Which is why I need to go,” I reply softly. “I want to help, Holt, but I’m not your girlfriend and the longer I’m here the more that line blurs.”

Nodding, he gets to his feet and heads toward the stairs. “I’ll talk to Dad.”

The dejected slump of his shoulders as he makes his way upstairs breaks my heart but solidifies my belief that leaving is the best thing to do. Marcus needs him whether he likes it or not, and Holt has a hard enough road ahead in dealing with him. He doesn’t need me here to complicate his emotions when they’re already scrambled.

I don’t know what he says to Grayson to get him to agree or maybe he’s as desperate to escape as I am, but a day later, Holt and I are standing in the living room, saying goodbye.

He wraps me in a tight hug, and I close my eyes, breathing in his scent, trying to block out the thoughts of being in his arms and his bed. It’s strange to miss someone who is standing right next to you.

“Thank you for everything, Bug. It means more than you’ll ever know.”

“You would’ve done the same for me. Don’t worry about Grayson. I’ll call if anything happens.”

Grayson walks in and sets down his suitcase. As soon as I step back, he hugs his son. “Take care of yourself. Don’t run yourself ragged. One tragedy at a time is all I can handle.”

“I promise. Call me when you get settled in, okay? It’s a beautiful place. Stay as long as you need to,” Holt tells him.

By the time we’re in my car on our way to Foxhaven, I have to wipe a few tears from my face. Grayson reaches over to squeeze my hand. “He’ll be okay. He has a good head on his shoulders.”

We spend the drive talking about happier subjects. I describe Foxhaven to him and explain the changes I plan to make. He listens, rapt, with a wide smile while I talk about my home. When we pull through the gate—that’s thankfully crowd free—he takes a deep breath.

“Wow, no wonder Holt loved it here. It’s gorgeous.”

“Wait until you see the lake. When you’re feeling better, there are walking paths through the woods, an indoor pool, and a bar. Our restaurant is open until midnight for room service.”

“I can’t imagine a more peaceful place to recover.”

Grayson fits right in at Foxhaven, and we spend quite a bit of time together over the next week. He’s such a kind man, and there are moments when I see Holt’s personality and attributes shining in him.

I don’t want him to be lonely here, so I make sure to join him for dinner every night I can, which is often since we’re entering the off season. He’s still having some trouble with dizziness and nausea, and takes a nap around lunchtime every day, but he’s slowly getting better.

The daily calls and updates from Holt help. Holt always asks to talk to me, but I don’t think it’s a good idea. The worst of the situation has passed, and I need some distance now.

It’s a nice day and I’m caught up on my work, so I invite Grayson to take a walk with me. He’s friendly with a few people here including my mother, but I know he still spends a lot of time alone.

“How are you feeling?” I ask, and he smiles at me.

“Better by the day. Some exercise and fresh air will do me good.”

We start down the path that winds in and out of the woods before ending beside the lake. “Marcus is still being stubborn, but Holt says they’ll be transferring him to a rehabilitation center for physical therapy soon. They need to get him ready for the prosthesis.”

“It isn’t fair he’s holding anything against you.”

The corner of his mouth tilts up, and the smile he flashes me could’ve been peeled right off Holt’s face. It takes me back to the boathouse, when I saw that same smile on lips I had just kissed.

“Surely, by your age, you know life’s not fair.”

“Yeah, I learned that one pretty young,” I reply with a chuckle.

“So did my boys.” He reaches up and runs his fingers down a bright orange leaf hanging from a tree as we pass.

“Holt said he didn’t meet you or Marcus until he was sixteen, after his mother passed. He never told me how that came about. You and his mother weren’t worried about separating twins?” I hope I don’t sound judgmental, but that’s such a terrible thing to do.

“I didn’t know I had twins. I would never have agreed to separate them.”

His breathing has sped up a bit, and I gesture toward one of the gazebos along the trail, glad it isn’t the one where I made love with Holt. “Do you want to sit for a moment?”

We take a seat on the center bench, and he continues. “His mother showed up at my house late one night, looking like she hadn’t eaten in weeks, with a squalling baby in a carrier. I don’t know what she was into back then, but I doubt it stopped at alcohol. I didn’t really know her. It had been over a year since we had dated, and then we only saw each other a few times before she disappeared.

“She practically shoved this baby at me and announced he was my son. She said she couldn’t handle him anymore and I needed to take him.” He rubs a hand over his light beard. “Kinley, when I took him out of the carrier, his diaper was soaked and half frozen to his tiny body. I knew it didn’t matter whether he was mine or not, she wasn’t going to leave with him.”

“Oh no,” I breathe. Who knows what neglect and abuse they suffered?

“She asked me for money, and I gave it to her, but I made it clear that there wouldn’t be any more and that she’d better not come around as long as she was strung out. She agreed, and never came back. When I went through the baby carrier, I found Marcus’s birth certificate, bearing my last name and me as the father.”

“I didn’t call the authorities because I didn’t want them to take the baby from me before I knew for sure whether he was mine. Back then, there weren’t over the counter DNA tests like now. It took the lab I visited two weeks to send me the results, and I was a match. He was mine.”

Grayson turns to look at me with glazed eyes. “I had no medical records or vaccination records for him. I was starting from scratch. And there was no reason for me to ever suspect he was a twin or that I had another son out there. If I had known, I wouldn’t have stopped looking until I found him.”

I put my hand on his. “I believe you. Holt told me you’re a wonderful father.”

A bright smile leaps into place. “Did he? He’s a good boy. So easy going and agreeable, but he feels a lot. His emotions have always been closer to the surface. It’s not a bad trait to have because it means he loves with his whole heart, but it also means he hurts deeper when painful situations happen.” He grins at me. “Like you.”

“I’m a painful situation?”

“Of his own making. I don’t blame you for breaking things off with him. Lying to you the way he did was terrible.”

“You may be reading a little much into his feelings this time. I don’t doubt he enjoyed being with me, but it was just a fun way to pass the time. I’m pissed at all the deception, Grayson, I’m not going to lie, but there are times when I think I could get past that. What I can’t forget is that he encouraged my feelings, told me he felt the same, made plans for the future with me, when he knew it was all fake. He had to know the truth would come out and everything would fall apart. We were having fun, and I didn’t push him for more. Promising me a future while knowing it wasn’t going to happen? That was just cruel, and I didn’t deserve it.”

I didn’t intend to bring him out here to rail against his son, but the words came pouring out. “Sorry,” I mumble. “I didn’t mean to go on a rant.”

Grayson sits back and stares off into the woods. “Don’t be sorry. You’re right. You didn’t deserve that. But you’re also wrong. I’m not trying to plead his case, or pressure you into giving him another chance. That’s between you two. But I will tell you this.

“When he came to visit me, it was because of you. He was torn up and desperately trying to find a way to tell you the truth without breaking the NDA that could’ve cost our family millions, and possibly shattered Marcus’s career. He told me he was in love for the first time and wanted my advice.”

Stunned, I sit back. I don’t doubt Grayson’s account, but I’m surprised to hear it. A tiny ember of hope reignites inside me. Did he really love me? Every trace of me wants to believe that. My mouth is suddenly dry when I ask. “What advice did you give him?”

“I told him to pull his head out of his ass and tell you the truth. To hell with the stupid contract.” He runs two fingers across his lips. “I had serious doubts it’d stand up in court, anyway. And maybe I’ve grown mushy in my old age, but given a choice between love and money, love wins every time.”

“Too bad he didn’t follow your advice,” I sigh.

Grayson gets to his feet, a sad smile on his face. “You guys are all so young. And there’s nothing but hope for the young. You never know what the future is going to give you.”

“Or smack you in the head with,” I grumble, joining him, and heading back onto the path.

“That too,” he chuckles.