Page 24

I pull his hand away and kiss his palm, lingering over the ridges of his scars. The reminder of what he’s been through. The betrayal. I catch his gaze. “I want to.”

He looks away—a flash of something hesitant in his eyes. Is he worried I’m too attached after three days? Or is he afraid of what I might find? It could be either. Or both.

Or none of the above. Stop jumping to conclusions, I remind myself. Gather the facts. Find the truth.

“Let’s go. Before your team comes looking for us.” I’m joking, but we’re barely back on the path when Carol runs up to us.

She holds up a hand as she tries to catch her breath. “Mr.…uh…Darian. Canyon.”

“Good morning, Carol.” Then my smile and my stomach drop. “Fishing.”

“You said you’d be there this morning.”

“I’m so sorry, Carol. I forgot.”

“Oh. Okay.” Her face falls.

“Tomorrow. I’ll be there.” I lean down to catch her eyes. “I promise, okay?”

“Sure… Only, you promised yesterday too,” she says with a sigh as she walks on ahead of us.

Crap. What is wrong with me? I have one job—this retreat. It isn’t snuggling with my boss in the morning or making out behind trees.

Wade nudges my shoulder. “She’ll be okay.”

“I just hate disappointing anyone.”

Everyone’s already at breakfast, which proves I’m failing at this.

Wade goes off to do his boss stuff while I go through the line for breakfast and sit at the table I usually share with Ander and Jared.

And instead of sneaking glances at Wade’s sexy ass as he leans over to talk to Sheila—oops—I focus on everyone else.

Lydia is sitting by herself, eating waffles with lots of whipped cream.

Al and Owen, at separate tables, both look sullen. Owen stares at his plate with a frown on his face. Al, on the other hand, glares at everyone while stabbing his food and shoveling it into his mouth.

Vivian and Carol are sitting close together, whispering and looking around. Dillian ignores everyone. Quietly eating his food as if he’s alone in his kitchen.

Jet…Jet is watching me. As soon as our eyes meet, I move my hand to wave, but he quickly looks away. Odd.

And things get even odder when Ander sits across from me, and he’s all alone.

“Where’s Jared?”

“I’m not his keeper,” Ander snaps. “How would I know?”

Whoa. “Did you guys have a fight?” I remember the yelling from last night. I guess I have my answer.

He stabs his eggs and shoots a glare at me. “We’re not together.”

“Of course not?—”

“What does that mean?”

I have no idea. “I heard the yelling. Last night.”

“Oh.” His body relaxes, and without the anger, he looks…sad. “Lawyers, you know.”

“Yeah. Definitely.” Nope. Not at all. What is he talking about?

When Wade starts going over the agenda for today, it’s a relief. I focus on him instead of his brother.

“This is our last full day here, so let’s make it count.

Tomorrow, we’ll have our usual morning activities.

After lunch, Canyon will lead us through our final activity, and then we’ll pack up.

The closing session is at four. It’s a chance to discuss what we’ve gained from the retreat.

There will also be a light meal before we head home.

Can?” He clears his throat. “Um, Canyon will detail what you can expect from today’s activities. ”

I stand and weave through the tables. “Thank you, Wade—Mr. Darian.” I turn to the group.

“I know yesterday didn’t go as planned. Today, we will work on something a little less intense.

But if anyone is uncomfortable with the activity, please see me before we start.

” I glance around the room. “But it needs to be an actual issue. Not because it seems too woke, Al.”

“Yeah. Whatever.” There’s a spattering of laughter around the room, and for a second, I think it’s going to be okay.

“You’re all an important part of this team. We all need to work together.” Most are nodding their heads or gathering their stuff. Jet won’t even look at me. What did I do? “Any questions?”

As people start to leave, I notice movement by the door.

“I have a question.”

My head jerks up. “River?”

“Hey, bro. What are you doing here?”

Thursday, June 12 th , 9:30 a.m.

The excited cheers and whispers from the rest of the campers provide background noise as Wade ushers River and me into the activities room. Several people try to greet him, delaying his progress, but one withering look from Wade has them backing away.

River is here. He’s safe. There was never anything to worry about. He left. It was his choice.

Mom and Dad chose to go boating.

I grab the back of a chair, my body shaking.

I was waiting for that call.

Wade and River are both talking, but their voices mix together, and I can’t focus on the actual words. I clutch my chest and lean over the chair, blinking away the darkness. Don’t pass out.

The scratchy material on the back of the chair helps ground me. I suck in a much-needed breath. And another.

“He’s having a panic attack.”

“Dude, give him some space.”

My eyes squeeze shut as the tension in the room escalates, prickling over my skin. I need a minute. Just another minute.

I focus on my other senses to keep me grounded. The textured blue material of the chair I can feel and picture in my mind. The sounds of sharp breaths. Shoes shuffling on the carpet. A chair knocking into the table next to me. The crisp, clean scent of grapefruit.

The heat of Wade’s body. If I reach for him, will he wrap me in his arms?

I can’t. My heart still pounds scarily fast as if it’s still catching up to today’s shocking news: my brother is here. He’s safe.

Here. My relief gets hijacked by a burst of anger. River is here. Where the fuck has he been? And humiliation. I almost passed out. Again. Why am I so weak? I rub against the tightness in my chest.

“Can?” Wade asks, and I can hear the rest of his panicked question. Are you all right?

“Don’t die on me, bro.”

“Jesus Christ.” Bang. I flinch, and my heart takes off again. Something hit the table. A fist? No. The sound was sharp. A chair hitting the side of the table. “What the fuck is wrong with you?”

“Me? You’re?—”

“Aaaarg!” Frustration. Relief. Fear. Rage. Guilt. It’s all too much. A wave of emotion surges into a crest and crashes over me, shattering my fragile control. “Shut up! Both of you.”

They freeze, their mouths open mid-argument as they watch me. Scrubbing my face, I find tears. I stare at my wet fingers and then at my brother.

“Can—”

The chair falls to the ground as I storm over to him.

“You fucking asshole.” I’m so angry my voice shakes, matching the rest of me.

“How could you, River?” Grabbing his shoulders, I pull him into a hug, ignoring my initial instinct to shake him.

The feel of him, so familiar, finally convinces me.

He’s here. He’s safe. I clutch the back of his shirt, afraid to let go, and use my free hand to whack the back of his head.

“Ow, Can,” he says, pulling out of my grasp. “I’m fine. I told you not to worry.”

I stare at him, speechless, and then at Wade. He watches me. His eyes intent. Worried. Covering my face with my hands, I scream internally.

It helps.

There’s no noise from the dining hall. Did they leave the room? Or are they listening? Waiting for another explosion. I glare at my brother. “Charizard.”

River chokes out a laugh. “What?”

“You took my Pokémon card to school every day.”

“Look, I’m sorry about leaving, okay?”

“You were a freshman.” The memory is vivid, and I can still picture his stubborn face as he told me I wasn’t in charge of him. “You refused to go to school—or anywhere—without it.”

He presses his lips together, his body a frozen line of tension. “What are you doing?”

I get it. Just like Fight Club , we have an unspoken rule. But he smashed all our rules to hell, and there’s a price to pay for that. “Why did you take my Charizard card to school every day?”

He shakes his head. Angry little shakes. His hands fist and press against his legs. “It was a comfort thing. Mom and Dad had just—stop being an asshole, Canyon.”

My resolve crumbles. Hurting my brother goes against every instinct I have. My job is to protect him. But I can’t do this anymore. I need him to understand. “It wasn’t a comfort thing.” I soften my voice. “You thought Charizard was stupid.”

“He is stupid,” River says. He sounds so much like that fifteen-year-old boy that I almost hug him again.

“Tell me why.”

He stares out the window behind me, blinking rapidly. Then his eyes meet mine. Anguish swirls in the green pools. “You loved that stupid card. I knew if I had it, you’d always—” His eyes shut and tears leak out.

“You took our family picture with you, River. If you’d left it?—”

He wraps his arms around me, squeezing me tight. “I’m so sorry, Can. I wasn’t thinking.”

The words are no longer important. I hug him back, this time without violence. “I’m still mad at you.”

“I know.”

Wade clears his throat. “I hate to interrupt this touching family reunion, but we still have a retreat to run.” He folds his arms across his chest and swallows.

River chuckles and wipes his eyes on his shirt. “Some things never change. Same ol’ bossman.”

That’s not true. I almost tell him Wade has changed. Or is that just my perception of him?

Before Wade can yell at him, and I can tell by the tightness of his jaw that he wants to—and why is that now endearing?—River turns to me. “I’m back now, bro. You can go home.”

“What? No. I’ve got activities planned?—”

He straightens, and the bro-tude vanishes. “No, Can. I planned the activities. I planned everything. This is literally my job. You can go back to counting sheep.”

Wade steps forward, his face etched with fury.

I resist the urge to pull River to safety.

He’s an adult. He did this to himself. “Your brother is the only reason you still have a job, Mr. Drake.” His words are low but sharp with anger.

“You disappeared without a word. That was your decision. But I decide who stays. Not you.”

This is the bosshole I remember. Taking charge. His hands are on his hips as he towers over my brother. River in front of the bookcase. Wade, in profile, framed against the green door.

My mind shifts to Wade lifting my arms above my head. Commanding me not to move as his hands roam under my shirt. As he kisses and sucks on my neck?—

Shit. I move behind a chair. Really, Canyon? Your brother is in the room . But my body doesn’t care. It hears the growl in Wade’s voice. “So there’s no reason for you to stay, River?—”

“No.” The cry escapes me before I can stop it. “Please.” My eyes dart from River to Wade. My heart is beating fast, but now for a different reason. It’s too soon. I just got him back.

Wade must read it on my face because he regroups with a muttered curse and a shake of his head. “Fine. You and Canyon can work together on this.”

“Hold up. Wade Darian is changing his mind. Listening to someone else?” River asks with a snarky tone, and I want to whack him upside the head again.

Wade’s jaw tightens, but his voice is even. “You might as well stay since I’m paying both of you.”

“Wait, you are?” His attitude slips away. “Why?”

“Your brother insisted. You can thank him.”

His brows draw together as he looks from Wade to me. He frowns. “It’s true, isn’t it?”

“What’s true?” I ask, but River ignores me and glares at Wade.

“What are you paying my brother to do, exactly?”

I gasp. What the fuck? My initial outrage changes to dread. He knows about us.

“Careful, River,” Wade says in a dangerous voice. “I’m still your boss.”

He scoffs, waving his hands at me. “You think my job is more important than my brother?”

Oh hell. This is getting out of hand. “Hold on. I’m an adult?—”

“You’ve known him for three days.” River holds up his fingers as if emphasizing his point and stares at me like he doesn’t recognize me. Fair. I don’t recognize myself. But that’s not a bad thing. He turns to Wade. “Does he know?”

I look between them. “Know what?”

Wade glances away. “We need to get out there. The team is waiting.”

“You’re something else. This isn’t the first time, Canyon.”

“What do you mean?” My body tingles uncomfortably. A pit opens in my stomach. I shake my head, rejecting my body’s assumption. “What is he talking about, Wade?”

The muscle in his jaw ticks, but his eyes are locked on River. “Don’t do this.”

They stare at each other, and I want to break them apart or knock their heads together. River points back at me. “Tell him, or I will.”

I grab Wade’s arm. “Tell me what, Wade?”

“I…can’t.” He shakes his head. “I’m not being evasive. I can’t legally talk about it.” His eyes plead with me to understand. “But it’s not the same thing, Can.” He reaches up to touch my face, but I push his hand away.

My eyes feel gummy and my chest aches. I’m seconds away from breaking down. “Tell me, River.” I don’t want to hear it. I’m not ready. Yet it’s not entirely a surprise. Good things never last.

“I don’t want to hurt you.” Uncertainty flashes in my brother’s eyes, and I clasp my hands to keep from shaking him.

“This is what he does, Can. I didn’t believe it at first. Didn’t want to believe it.

But now…” He swallows, but then his face hardens.

“You’re not the first employee he’s slept with.

Not the first to call him— Fuck, I can’t even say it. You’re my brother.”

“No, that’s not— Can, please,” Wade says, but I shake my head. This can’t be happening.

“He’s going to get bored and drop you too, Can. You’re not his first, And you won’t be his last.”

“Stop it,” Wade says to River. Then he turns to me. “It’s not true. Not all of it anyway.”

But some of it is. Pain slices into me. Down the center. Cutting me in half. I press my hand against my chest, desperately holding the pieces together.

“Can, sweetheart…” His words are filled with anguish, but I can’t focus on that.

I rush out the door—falling into that pit of pain and grief.

The darkness is familiar.

Endless.

Clasping a hand over my mouth, I rush past the people in the dining hall and escape through the main door. The humid air smacks against me, stopping my progress. I turn and vomit into a bed of vibrant daylilies.