Page 24 of Until the Storm Breaks (The Midnight Men #1)

“Because you’re making it take longer.” He stands, walks to the window overlooking the boxing floor. “You’re stalling, Cal.”

“I’m fixing Mom’s house. It’s the house we fucking grew up in.” Well. So much for keeping it from getting hostile.

“You’re avoiding reality.” He turns back to me. “The realtor comes right after the memorial. We need the house ready.”

“It’ll be ready.”

“Will it? Because Theo says you’re talking about redoing the kitchen cabinets now.”

I shrug. “They need work.”

“Let the buyers take care of it,” Dominic says. “They know the shape the house is in. They don’t care. They’re serious and want to close right after the memorial.”

“What about Maren’s cabin? We talked about working her into the contract.” I straighten up from the doorframe.

“Month-to-month verbal agreement. Legally, the new owners don’t have to honor it.” He holds up a hand before I can interrupt. “Listen, I’m not a complete asshole here. I know Maren was good to Mom. Hell, I’m the one who told you that when you first got back. I saw her there every day at the end.”

“So what are you saying?” I ask.

“I’m saying I’m trying. But the buyers are firm.

They want the full property clear.” He leans forward.

“I’m already looking at alternatives for her.

Theo’s studio might be an option if it opens up.

She’ll get enough notice once things are finalized.

I’m not trying to screw her over, Cal, but we have to face reality.

We can’t keep the house, and if the buyers won’t budge. ..”

Maren took care of Mom when I couldn’t handle watching her fade. She runs the bar that keeps this town together, takes care of everyone who walks through her door. Who’s looking out for her?

“That’s nice that you’re trying,” I say. “But those apartments aren’t her home. Mom would’ve wanted her protected.”

“Mom would’ve wanted us not to lose the house to back taxes.”

I think about Maren in the sunroom, how she talked about being seventeen and lost. She’s more than capable of taking care of herself—runs a successful bar, manages her own life.

But I have this bone-deep need to make sure she’s okay.

Even if I completely misread what happened between us, even if she’s not interested, I need to know she’s secure. Protected.

“Look,” I say. “We both know Mom would’ve wanted Maren taken care of too.”

“Sure, in an ideal world—”

“No. In this world. The real one where we make choices.”

Dominic exhales through his nose. “Damn, Cal. It’s easy to have principles when you’re not the one dealing with the consequences.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you’ve been in Seattle playing professor while I’ve been here handling Mom’s decline, her care. You couldn’t even handle seeing her at the end.”

“You know why I stayed away,” I say. “She thought I was Dad. It upset her—”

“Bullshit.” His voice cuts through my excuse. “You were relieved when she started doing that. Gave you the perfect out. You got to tell yourself it was for her sake, but really you just couldn’t handle watching her fade.”

The truth of it winds me. “Fuck you.”

“Truth hurts?”

I step closer to the desk. “You want truth? You’re so convinced you’re the only one who can handle things, you’ve turned into Dad’s worst version. Controlling everything, deciding for everyone. Mom spent ten years making sure Maren had that home. We’re not undoing that.”

His face hardens. “I’m the only one here making the tough calls.”

“Because you won’t let anyone else near them.”

“Right, because you were all lining up to help.” His voice drips sarcasm. “Face it, Cal. You got to play the sensitive writer in Seattle while I handled the ugly reality.”

The words sting because he’s partly right. But only partly. “You love the control. Always have.”

“Someone has to be in charge.”

“And it has to be you?”

“Who else?” he demands. “You?” He laughs, harsh and dismissive. “You can’t even commit to staying through the memorial.”

My hands clench at my sides. He doesn’t know I’ve been counting the days, dreading and needing the memorial in equal measure.

“This isn’t about me—”

“It’s exactly about you. Coming in here, making demands about Maren when you barely know her.”

“I know enough,” I say.

“You know she’s pretty and lives next door. That’s what this is really about.” His eyes narrow. “You want to fuck her and you’re trying to dress it up as noble.”

Heat floods my face, rage mixing with something else. “Careful,” I say, voice low and dangerous.

“Hit a nerve? You want to play hero for the neighbor you’ve got a thing for, but you’ll be gone in a few weeks and I’ll still be here, dealing with reality. With Maren wondering why you made promises you couldn’t keep.”

I step closer, using my height advantage, getting in his space the way I know he hates. “The reality where you screw over someone Mom loved like a daughter?”

“The reality where I make the hard choices no one else will.” He doesn’t back down, chin raised.

“You mean the profitable ones,” I sneer.

Something flickers in his eyes—anger, maybe guilt too though. “The sale goes through as planned,” he says, voice tight with finality.

“Not if it means kicking Maren out.”

“That’s not your decision.”

I lean forward, hands flat on Dad’s old desk. “Watch me make it mine.”

We stare at each other across the scarred wood where Dad taught us both to arm wrestle, where Mom spread college applications, where we signed papers after Dad’s funeral. All that history, and here we are.

“We’re done here,” Dominic says finally, cold and dismissive.

“This isn’t over, Dom.” I straighten, head for the door, then turn back. My whole body is coiled with the need to act, to fix this. “Maren keeps that cabin. Whatever it takes, however I have to make it happen. She’s not losing her home.”

“You can’t stop this sale,” he says.

“Try me.”

I leave before he can respond, anger burning through me as I head to the truck. My hands are shaking slightly as I grip the steering wheel. I don’t know how yet, but I’ll find a way to protect Maren.

She’s spent years making sure everyone else is okay, checking on Mom, keeping the bar running so the whole town has somewhere to gather.

She’s been everyone’s safety net for years. Now I’ll be hers, even if she doesn’t know she has one.