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CHAPTER THIRTEEN

FORD

Before I can ask what she means, Juliet has cleared the kitchen island of food and is sliding on her shoes. There’s a manic, almost desperate jerk to her movements. Like she’s one wrong move away from losing it. But maybe losing it is exactly what she needs.

Who am I to judge? It worked for Bishop.

But I can’t just let her fly blind. So, I risk asking, “What are you doing?”

Juliet snaps her head up, her short brown waves dusting her shoulders. “We’re going to cut the strings of the puppet master.”

Eyes wide and determined, she says it as if it’s so simple. Like she’s somehow gained possession of magical scissors that will allow her to do just that. It reminds me of the way she used to look all those years ago, hunched over her Bunsen burner, watching the liquid inside as if she could will it to boil.

It was that look that made me think twice about letting Tyler keep her. Like I had any say in the matter. She was head over heels for him. But every time I witnessed it, I had to remind myself that I could only take so much from him before he snapped. He got the girl. I got everything else. And that was enough for me.

I haven’t seen that look in Juliet’s eyes since finding her. It’s still the most beautiful thing I’ve ever witnessed.

Popping up from tying her shoe, she doesn’t wait for me to respond. “Come on, get your shoes on. And maybe grab your bag for the field later.”

“What about breakfast?” I cast a longing look at the half-assembled quiche.

“I’ve got a protein bar in my bag.”

Looks like I’m going hungry.

Juliet hurries me out the door and into a cab. She gives the driver an address I don’t recognize and settles back in the seat, staring out the window. Gone is the high-strung energy from upstairs, replaced by an eerie calm. Almost like right before a storm. I’m not sure what to make of it, but I let her take the lead and resolve to cautiously watch from her side, ready to jump in when she needs me.

Thirty minutes pass in silence until we pull into our destination, and my stomach drops out of my ass.

It’s a cemetery. Specifically, the cemetery where all the Renegades are buried.

“Juliet.” My voice is wary. “Is this a good idea?”

“Please.” Her lower lip trembles, and when she lifts her eyes, they shine with a desperation that is no longer manic, determined, or calm. It’s a culmination of the three that I can only describe as hopeful.

“I need this,” she continues. “And I think you do too.”

If I knew what this was, I might agree, but I have no idea what she has planned. Still, I nod, noting the way her knee bounces as she gives the driver directions on where to drop us.

The moment the car stops, Juliet is gone. She takes off toward Tyler’s grave, down the hill next to the pond. It surprises me she knows exactly where it is, considering I don’t remember seeing her at the funeral.

It’s almost eerie as I cross the sprawling grass. There’s not another person in sight. Just me, Juliet, some obnoxiously loud birds, and the ghosts of our past.

By the time I get to her, Juliet is as still as the headstones that surround us. Hands tangled at her chest just above the Rolling Stone lips of her shirt, she doesn’t look the part of a mourning widow. But I know deep down that’s what she is. That’s why we’re here. With everything going on, she never gave herself the chance to process. She’s been in a constant state of fight or flight. This is her come down—her way of moving forward.

Silently I slide up next to her, taking in the ornate headstone with a gargoyle perched on top.

Tyler Mason Martinez.

Beloved Son, Husband, and Teammate.

Bile rises at the back of my throat. Leave it to Tyler, even in death, to pretend to be everything he’s not.

Softly, so as not to startle her, I ask, “Why are we here, Juliet?”

“To cut the strings.” Again, as if it’s so simple.

“And how do we do that?”

She gives me a wistful look that promises an explanation, but then turns back tothe headstone. “I wanted to leave him.”

I blink, unable to believe what I’m hearing. “What?”

Juliet nods, but it’s not for me. “About six months before you died, I went and talked to a divorce lawyer. She told me it would be messy if you didn’t agree, but it could be done.”

Her voice shakes as she admits to her dead husband the things she never got to tell him in life.

“You took everything from me,” she whispers past a sob. “You made me believe I was the center of your world and that the love you had for me was enough. I trusted you, but you gave me scraps while everyone else got the best pieces of you. I held on for so long. To the person you were. The person I fell in love with.”

She told me she needs this. So, I’ll be her witness. Her silent strength. But her sob nearly breaks me, though not as much as the truth she’s entrusting to me. I knew none of this. I always thought—they were supposed to be happy together. They had each other. That was supposed to be enough.

Juliet falls to her knees, and it takes everything for me not to fall beside her and wrap her in my arms. Her sobs quiet, and I watch as she finds the courage to keep going. “I prayed that the man I fell in love with would come back to me. All those nights you left me alone in that penthouse. All those times you manipulated me, hurt me—over and over—I prayed. I pictured growing old with you. Spending our last days hand in hand and saying goodbye to this world together. But you never came. And I’ll never know if it’s because you didn’t want the same thing, or if maybe you just weren’t capable of loving me the way I needed you to. You never saw that I was falling apart—dying inside. Eventually I realized it didn’t matter how many meals I made, or strip teases I did. The more I loved you, the more you realized you could take advantage of my heart.

“Then you went and died.” The venom in her voice catches me off guard. “You left me with a mess I thought I’d never recover from. Well, I’m here to tell you I did. And I’m sure you just hate that. I’m sure you are rolling over in your grave knowing it was Ford, who helped me.” She shakes her head and a laugh bubbles through the tears. “You were wrong about him, by the way.”

She looks up at me, the morning sun highlighting the lighter strands of brown in her hair, giving an almost halo effect. I want to ask her what she means by he hurt her. I want to let her know she’s not alone anymore. Mostly, I want to raise my stepbrother from the dead so I can kill him all over again.

How had I missed so much? Were there signs?

Shit, I never should have left.

But my mom.

God, there was no winning.

Juliet’s throat bobs and her voice shakes, but her eyes shine with pure beauty. “Ford isn’t a monster. Arrogant and pushy, yes, and maybe sometimes a bit of an ass, but where you were once the love of my life, Ford is something worth more. He’s my family.”

Fuck.

I blink away the stinging in my eyes. Once. Twice. Every time I open them, I think she’ll be gone. But she’s not. She’s real. And she just claimed me.

Family.

My heart dares to hope she means it.

Juliet breaks our connection first, looking back at the headstone. “I’m done being your puppet, Tyler. I refuse to hide anymore and keep your secrets. I just needed you to be the first to know.”

I should ask permission and make sure she’s okay with it, but there isn’t a world in which I could keep myself from comforting her. Wrapping my arms around her, I tug Juliet against my chest. She meets my hug in kind, and without thinking, I press a kiss to her hair. “I know we only just met again. But for what it’s worth, I’m proud of you.”

“I’m proud of me too.” She beams against my chest. “Now it’s your turn.”

I pull back and search her face, finding nothing but a stern smile.

Oh shit, she’s serious.

“Um, you’re a hard act to follow.”

Two lines form between Juliet’s brow, paired with a pointed glare. “No more strings.”

It’s not that I don’t want to speak in front of her. It’s that I’m not entirely sure what to say. Everything between Tyler and me has always been strained. Forced. This isn’t any different.

“Okay.” I sink back on my heels, knees digging into the damp grass, and glare at the name that has haunted me for so long. “You were a right bastard, you know that? Not only all those years in high school, but every year after. I was so excited when my mom told me I’d be getting a brother. A boy a little younger than me, who loved baseball as much as I did. I had dreams of what we’d be. Ford and Tyler. The big league bros. Imagine my surprise when I found out you hated me because you thought my love of baseball overshadowed yours. Because your dad decided I was the brother to back.”

Hurt lodges in mythroat, making it impossible to speak. My lip trembles and all the pent-up emotions I’ve held so close to my chest erupt like a volcano that’s been dormant for too long.

“I was fucking sixteen. I was a child. Just like you. It wasn’t my choice. It wasn’t?—”

Soft skin runs over my hand, and I look down at where Juliet has intertwined her fingers with mine. There’s nothing romantic about it, and yet it means more than any other time I’ve held a woman’s hand. She gives a gentle squeeze, and I keep going.

“I had to get my mom out of there, Tyler. It was never about you or me. I could take the heat. I could fight back. My mom couldn’t. She wouldn’t. And if we had stayed, I would have lost those extra years with her. You could have come with us. I know he was your dad, but I’ll never understand why you chose to stay and not fight back.”

My heart hurts as images from those final days play through my mind. The sight of my mom’s blood. The rage in my veins. The betrayal in Tyler’s eyes.

“Mom wanted me to fix the rift between us. And there is a part of me that will always be sorry that I didn’t get the chance to. But after finding out the truth of what you became, I’m not sure we ever would have seen eye to eye.”

Anger courses through me, and I drop Juliet’s hand, afraid of squeezing her too hard. And God bless this woman, she understands and loops her arm through mine instead. She gives me strength I’m not sure I deserve. But I take it and say my final goodbye to the brother I so badly wanted, but never had.

“I came to New York, wishing for more time. Now I’m just thankful Juliet made it out alive. I can forgive you for punching me in the face. I deserved it. I can even forgive you for gambling away every penny you had. There is no way you could’ve known you would die on that plane and leave that mountain of debt behind.” My lip curls into a snarl, and there’s only fury in my tone. “But I will never forgive you for the way you treated your wife. She is arguably the greatest thing that ever happened to you, and you threw that away. You had a choice, and still you became everything you hated in your father. I won’t say I’m glad you’re dead, but I’m done wasting a single thought more on you, and I can’t wait to see all the things Juliet will do now that she’s free from you.”

Juliet lowers her head to my shoulder, and we sit for a long time with nothing but the sound of the birds between us.

My mind drifts through all the what ifs, giving them space, before I leave them where they belong—in the past, with the dead.

“You need to get going if you’re going to make it to the field on time.”

Glancing down, I catch Juliet fiddling with her phone. I press a gentle kiss to the top of her head. “Thank you for looking out, but I can be late. The team will understand, and it’s not like I’m playing tonight.”

“Go,” she insists. “I already texted Paige to come get me.”

She pulls away, and I instantly miss the heat of her body against mine. I almost say we can stay together as long as she wants, but then I think better of it.

“Is Paige the lovely woman I talked to on the phone at Bare Necessities?”

Juliet smiles and shrugs. “She grows on you.”

“Like a fungus maybe,” I mutter.

That gets a laugh out of her. “She’s the closest thing I have to a best friend.”

I reach over and give her hand a gentle squeeze. “You have me now too.”

She returns the gesture and smiles. “I do.”

The words are there, but the weight behind them feels lighter than a feather.

“We still on for tackling the baseball room Sunday?”

“I’ll be there.”

Each step away from her feels like slogging through mud, and it takes everything in me not to call the team and let them know I’ll be there tomorrow. They’d understand. We protect what’s ours. And after the insane amount of trust she showed by letting me come here with her, I’m feeling a lot more than just protective of Juliet. I’m feeling like I’d murder anyone who tried to hurt her.

But I know she needs this moment. She needs to trust people. People like Paige. People who aren’t me. Because at the end of the day, she’ll always have me. But that woman deserves to fly, and I have to let her.