Page 25

Chapter 25

Juliette

I barely had a chance to process what he said before my phone rang.

He pushed off the counter and reached around and removed the device that had the worst timing ever from my back pocket.

He offered it to me, dropping his gaze between us to Easton’s name flashing on the screen.

“You should take that.” His gravelly tone sent me closer to him as he walked back a step.

I sent Easton’s call to voicemail. “Can I at least address what you said to me first?”

“I’d rather you not.” His jaw twitched, and he covered it with his palm, eyes on the floor.

“Look at me.” The command burst from my lips. “Look me in the eyes and tell me you actually believe what you said.”

Goose bumps dotted my arms as he finally met my eyes.

“You don’t think I’ve spent these last seventeen years dreaming about one day bumping into the man who gave me the best night of my life, never mind the miracle of our son?”

He quietly stared at me, his hand departing from his jaw the only indication he’d heard me.

“You don’t think every time I looked at my father’s bourbon, I thought of you?” I whispered, using my phone to point to the bottle. “Remembering it was how I worked up the nerve to even talk to a man like you?” My arm dropped to my side. “Or remember the sweet taste of it on your lips when you first kissed me?” A stuttery breath slipped free. “Does that sound like obligation to you?”

His fingers tightened into his palms, a form of restraint I could so clearly see. He closed the space between us, dropping his head to look at me.

“And you don’t think I drank it all these years because of you? To remember you? That I drank it to feel something, anything at all, even if it was the pain of knowing I’d never see you again. I’d never find anyone who made me feel like you did in those three hours.” Emotion rattled loose from his voice. “I spent seventeen years thinking I was the only one who felt that way. Seventeen years of believing I was obsessed with a woman who didn’t even want me back. Do you know how much that fucked me up?”

I covered my mouth with my free hand, my fingers trembling at his admission. At the raw truth sitting between us.

“And it was all my fault. Your pain, Colin’s, and mine.” He rested his fist over his heart. “Because I left your room without saying goodbye and left a note. A fucking note,” he snarled, then walked backward, raising his hands in silent request not to talk or follow him.

I watched him walk out on me just as he did earlier, feeling wrecked all over again. I looked over at the bottle of Legacy Ridge, and since I was alone, I took my chance and poured two fingers.

My hand shook as I brought the glass to my lips, seventeen years of memories bleeding through my mind. I tossed it back like a tequila shot, and it burned my chest and heated my throat.

Easton calling again prevented me from another drink. I didn’t want to stress him out, but I had no clue how to talk to him while full of so many conflicting emotions.

I set down the glass and accepted his call, but he changed it to FaceTime the second I did.

Ugh, great. He was going to see me red-eyed and on the hot mess express. “Hi.” I hiccuped, a reaction to quickly downing a bourbon meant to be slowly appreciated.

“Where are you?” Easton asked, a distressed expression crossing his face along with a worried tone.

“Give me a second.” I muted the call, went to my bedroom, and closed the door. I sat on the bed, unmuted it, and told him, “I’m not home.”

“I can tell.” From the looks of it, he was in his hotel room at The Sapphire, which was the location of Carter’s new base of operations. I didn’t know the whole story about the hotel and its acquisition, and Easton said it was better if I didn’t, so I never pressed. “Why do I feel like I need to sit as well?”

“You’ll probably shoot up to your feet the second I tell you where I am and why, so you might as well stay standing.” I slapped my hand over my mouth to catch the next hiccup, the bourbon now working its way to my stomach to burn me there. Guess I should have taken a few extra minutes to eat something first. This conversation was going to be interesting.

“You’re scaring me, Letty.” He pulled out his nickname for me, which he reserved only for emergencies. This qualified.

“Do you know who Constantine Costa is?” The bourbon loosened my lips, allowing me to cut to the chase.

“I know of him, but we’ve never met.” His eyes went wide with worry. “But why do you know his name?”

The sigh that tumbled from my lips contradicted the gravity of everything. It was also probably thanks to dear ol’ Dad’s bourbon and my lack of nutritional fortification. “Because Colin stole his wallet, and Constantine tracked us down.”

“You’re shitting me. Did he hurt either of you?” He was already on the move. Ready to hop on a plane and come to my rescue.

“See, told you it was better to remain standing.” I lifted an innocent shoulder, and he didn’t appear mildly amused. “We’re fine. We’re at his house now, actually.”

He stopped walking and brought the phone in front of his face. “I’m sorry, but what?” He jutted his chin forward as if inspecting me. “Have you been drinking?”

“What? Noooo.” I squeezed one eye closed at the lie. “Okay, I had a little. Needed to take the edge off before I go over the edge.” I shook my head, unsure if what I’d said would also send him over said edge.

He blinked rapidly. “I think I need to sit after all.” He went over to a desk and dropped down, then propped the phone up so he wasn’t holding it. “Why are you at that man’s house?”

In hindsight, I should’ve had more alcohol before this call. “Guess who’s Colin’s dad.”

The man went pale in real time. That, or my bourbon-brain imagined it. Liquor really did hit me fast. “C.” That was all he said. That one initial. Connecting dots.

I nodded.

“I don’t believe this.” His gaze lowered to the desk as he stroked his stubbled jawline. “Colin knows?”

“He figured it out shortly after Constantine risked his own life to save him.”

That news sent my overprotective brother back to his feet, and his chair fell. “Explain.”

So, I did. To the best of my ability, at least. Everything from the wallet to the rave and why we were staying at Constantine’s home.

“I feel like the lights are on, but no one’s home in my head,” he said when I finished my story. “This is insane.”

“Tell me about it.”

He fixed his chair and sat. “Carter knows him.”

“I’m aware.”

He pushed at his forehead as if a headache was stirring.

“He filled me in on why Carter doesn’t like him, too.”

Easton dropped his hand to his lap, surprise flickering across his face. “Did he mention they had to work together about a year and a half ago? And by ‘work’”—he used air quotes—“I mean what I do. Did he tell you he does what I do?”

“Kind of, sort of. I didn’t know he ever . . . well, with Carter.”

The lump at the back of my throat was relentless and wouldn’t go down. The feeling was suffocating.

“Well, I wasn’t with him on that op, but they both sucked it up and got through it. From what I heard, Constantine told Carter to hit him if it’d make him feel better.”

I honestly wasn’t shocked at all. The more time I spent with Constantine, the more I realized he was willing to take hits from anyone, along with the blame and guilt. He was a truly selfless man.

“Did Carter do it?” I figured Constantine would’ve eventually told me about this, but Colin interrupted us.

“No, but let’s just say they’re not exactly going to be friends anytime soon.”

“Well, you’re my brother, not him. And your loyalty to that man better not interfere with you accepting Constantine into the family.”

Family . The word rolled around in my head, not feeling strange. Just perfectly right.

He puffed out his cheeks, letting the breath go as he tore his hands through his dark brown hair. “How’s Colin handling this? Hell, how are you?” Before I could answer, he added, “Makes sense now why you’re drinking.”

“Colin is in shock.” I nodded. “But he’s happy.”

“And you?” he pressed, raising a brow.

“I’m confused.” I held the phone up in front of my face. “But happy. Also nervous since Colin might be in danger, hence why we’re here.”

“I should be there.” He started to stand, but I patted the air, and he reluctantly sat.

“There’s something else.” Chills marred my relaxed state at the memory of what I was about to share.

“Rebecca Dominick’s wake,” he acknowledged before I had to say it.

“Colin remembered seeing him there.” I caught another hiccup with my hand and left my palm over my mouth, worried I might cry again.

“You’re serious?”

“Dead,” I said through my hand, then winced at my poor choice of words considering the topic of discussion. I spilled the story as fast as possible, ending with, “So, you can see why we’re all shocked and confused. You know, all the things.”

“Now I’m just shocked you’re not totally drunk,” he said. “I would be.”

Yeah, well, Constantine had a few after the “Rebecca’s wake” revelation. I kept that to myself.

“Where’d I go wrong with Colin?” This wasn’t the time to address that, but the words came out anyway. “He has a girlfriend I didn’t know about. He was hanging out with criminals. Stealing.” I shook my head. “He promises he’ll change now that his dad is in his life, but I feel like such a failure.”

“Don’t start with that. You’ve done the best you could. Do not feel bad, you hear me? He’s a teenage boy. It’s normal for him to act up.”

“Not like this.”

“And if anyone should feel bad, it’s me.” He shook his head. “I’m the one who accidentally taught Colin to steal.”

“You played hide-and-seek with objects and taught him magic tricks as a kid. How would you know he’d turn those skills into a life of crime?” I shivered. “Of course, had he not stolen Constantine’s wallet, his father wouldn’t be in his life.”

He groaned.

I did as well.

“I need another drink,” I mumbled.

“Maybe that’s not a good idea when you’re shacked up with Colin’s dad.” Of course, Easton would worry about that.

“Constantine would never take advantage of me.” I couldn’t help but defend the man.

“He better not,” he shot out. “Is he single? He has to be, right? Or he wouldn’t just move y’all in.”

“Single, yes.”

“And does he know about your, uh, decision to . . .?”

I smirked, knowing exactly why he had left his sentence hanging. I didn’t blame him. “It didn’t exactly come up in conversation.” I felt the flames of heat move up into my cheeks. “We just need to focus on what’s best for Colin.”

“Maybe what’s best for Colin is that his mom finally stops putting herself second and lets herself be happy.”

“Stop third-personing me.” I rolled my eyes. “And are you actually suggesting what I think you are? That I should give it a shot with his father?”

“I can’t believe I’m saying this, but if anyone deserves a shot, it’s him, yeah?” Before I could respond, he held up his hand. “Sorry. Give me a second.”

He stood, left the desk, and hushed voices filled the background before he returned.

“That was Gwen.” He shuddered, gripping the arms of the chair. “That woman drives me fuckin’ nuts, I swear.”

“Oh, I bet she does.” I teased my brows up a few times, falling back into a relaxed state again. “Didn’t Wyatt basically assign you to watch over her? You know, to keep her out of trouble?”

“Her dad is a hard-ass and drives her crazier than she drives me.”

“Ah, that’s all love from him.”

His eyes widened. “Shit, that reminds me . . .”

The bourbon slowed my reaction time before I made the connection.

“Her dad didn’t know Gwen existed until she was almost twenty-one. She had no clue the man who raised her wasn’t her real father.”

“A different story than mine, but I suppose Constantine can relate to Wyatt.”

“Yeah, well, Gwen’s mother kept the truth from them both. You’d have gone to war to bring Colin and his father together. Gwen’s mom was a she-devil for keeping them apart.”

“That’s being kind.” I wasn’t much of a swearer, but there were much more colorful words I would use for Gwen’s mother.

“Oh fuck.” Easton, on the other hand, used curses as adjectives, nouns, and verbs.

“What is it?”

“Constantine and Wyatt have also worked together before, too. Twice, actually. That time with Carter, then again, this past fall.”

And I suddenly felt like he was about to share something that’d send me into Constantine’s bar for another drink.

“Do you know his sister, Bianca, was murdered?”

“Yes, and that he took vengeance into his own hands with his brothers.”

“Wow.” His brows shot up. “He told you that already? You two really, uh, connected fast?” He waved his hand. “Forget I said that. Considering what happened in three hours seventeen years ago, why am I surprised?”

For whatever reason, it took hearing my brother saying those words for that particular realization and truth to sink in. Because yeah, why was I surprised things were going from zero to sixty with Constantine, given how they went the last time we’d been together?

“But back to what I was saying. The reason Carter and Wyatt worked with Constantine was because Carter’s other security company, Falcon Falls, happened upon some intel relating to Bianca Costa’s death. Conflicting information. Like the kind that revealed her killer was actually still alive. That’s why Carter had to temporarily bury the hatchet to work with him.”

“Wait, are you saying what I think you’re saying?” My chills made a comeback and fast, backburnering the bourbon.

“Fak.” He sputtered his milder version for the F word. “You didn’t know the first person he and his brothers took out wasn’t her killer?”

My stomach bottomed out.

There it was.

The other shoe dropping.

No, no, no. “You’re telling me they killed an innocent man?” That would mean Constantine lied to me in the kitchen about only taking out bad guys, and I refused to believe that.

“Hardly innocent. That asshole was still a murderer, just the wrong one. Hold your tears and your condolences for the fucker.”

Thank God. I hung my head in relief. Given the circumstances, I knew the only reason I was handling this so well was because I’d already been exposed to this “style of life” thanks to my brother and Carter.

Easton unknowingly paved the way for me to not panic-run at the first hint of Constantine’s closet full of skeletons.

I still might need another drink, though. “They catch the real killer?”

“From what I know, yeah. I’m unclear on the details surrounding that.”

Something told me I didn’t want to know, either. At least, not yet. I knew I could only handle so much in such a short period without freaking out. I wasn’t that cool. “You said Wyatt worked with Constantine a second time?”

“He did. I don’t know why. Gwen mentioned something in passing to me about the Costas last fall. That’s all I remember. But I get the distinct feeling Constantine’s baggage is like Carter’s.”

“Meaning?”

“His baggage comes with threats.”

“Colin’s in danger because of his own choices, but are you saying we could be in danger because of Constantine’s, too?” Maybe two more drinks are needed.

“Maybe. But no more than the danger you’re in by being associated with me.” He grimaced. “Not a reality I want to admit, but it’s true.” He held up his hand. “I’d never let anything happen to you.”

“I know.” I forced myself to stand.

“Just like I know Constantine will protect you and Colin.”

His surprising words of support pulled me right back down.

“Why don’t I come visit?”

I held the phone in front of my face. “No, you don’t need to do that. Constantine’s going to try to bring his family over on Monday. Colin wants to meet them.”

“Wow. Y’all really are moving fast.” He pushed away from his desk and stood, reaching for the phone. “Your birthday is next weekend. I’ll come then.”

My birthday is the last thing on my mind.

“You’re strong, don’t forget that,” he said, knowing exactly what I needed to hear. “You’ll get through this.”

I’ll try. “Thank you for being so understanding. You’re taking this ten times better than I thought you would.”

“I’ll always have your back, you know that. I want what’s best for you and Colin. And I’d never want to do anything that’d jeopardize Colin having his father in his life. I just can’t believe he’s the C we were looking for. He was kind of right here all along, and I just . . . feel bad I didn’t know.”

“Oh no, not you with the guilt, too.” I flicked my wrist, about to lose it. “Don’t start. You’re just like Constantine. Want to hold the weight of the world on your shoulders.”

“Of course. We’re twice your size.” He winked. “Gotta keep it from crushing those we love.”

“Funny.” But he induced a smile. “How’d I get so lucky to have you in my life?”

“Bah.” He waved me off. “I’m the lucky one.” He turned his head, and I overheard someone calling out his name. He jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “If you don’t presently need me, Gwen apparently does.”

“Oh, she does, does she?”

He grinned, and something told me that smile had more to do with the woman he’d been assigned to protect than anything else. “Shut up.”

“Well, it sounds like you have your hands full and are too busy to fly here anyway.”

He rolled his eyes. “Just call me or text me when you have a chance and check in.”

I nodded.

“And, Letty?”

“Yeah?”

“If the man does hurt you or break your heart or Colin’s?—”

“I know, I know.” My turn to roll my eyes. “Jet plane over here. Etcetera, etcetera.”

“Precisely.” He smiled. “Love ya, sis. Later.” He ended the call before I could tell him back, and I set aside my phone and checked to see if my legs would hold my weight this time.

Deciding to disobey Constantine’s orders, I snuck into his office for another drink. Still in the clear, I hurried to his bar and poured two shots.

“Call go that well, huh?”

I guiltily lowered the glass to my side and turned around.

He was standing at the threshold of the office, a shoulder propped against the interior doorframe, eyes on me. He surprised me before I could answer. “Go ahead.”

Worried he’d change his mind and convince me to make smarter choices, I swallowed half the glass in one swig. Like before, the liquid burned my throat and hurt my chest, but it eased the aching pain there, too.

Long strides carried him my way as I continued to sip more. He stopped before me, quietly watching as I finished it. I added more to the glass and knocked that back, too. No need to tell him I’d already had some before the call.

He gently took hold of my wrist when I went for another. “No more,” he said firmly. “It’ll hurt me too much to see you sick and be powerless to take away your pain.”