Fiddling with my thumbs, I concentrated on
not
looking at the photo frame sitting in the middle of the
fire place. "Great," I replied adding a little enthusiasm into my
voice. "I'm doing really well, dude. Much better." See, I was a
fucking fantastic liar.
Kyle fixed his blue eyes on me for a moment
before grinning. "Good," he sighed in relief. "I was worried how
you were handling…"
"It's all good," I said interrupting him. I
couldn't talk about it, not to Kyle. "How's Lee doing?" I asked
tactfully veering the conversation away from me. "You said you were
in the dog house?" Kyle's face did that stupid glazed over gaze
before he sighed and rubbed his face with his hands. "What did you
do?" I asked, my tone laced with disgust. He'd screwed up. I knew
it and by the look of it he knew it, too. "Tell me you didn’t…"
"Don't start," Kyle grumbled. I watched him
mutter something incoherent before standing quickly and stalking
out of the room. I rolled my eyes and followed after him. He was
stood frozen at the kitchen door. "Brace yourself," he muttered,
eyes locked on Lee, who was sitting on a stool at their kitchen
island, with her head in her hands. "I fucked up the other night.
Went to see her mom. This could get ugly."
"Jesus, Kyle," I groaned. "You're amazing at
fucking things up. You should take it up as a sport. You'd be
guaranteed a gold medal." Pushing past him, I strolled over to
where Lee was sitting and perched myself on the stool beside her.
"How you doing, ice?"
Lee's head snapped up and she looked at me
with the biggest smile. A real, honest to god,
I'm-happy-to-see-you, mega-watt smile that touched something deep
down in my heart. I couldn’t remember the last time someone had
smiled at me like that. Like they were happy to see me…It felt
strange. "Hey you," she said as her big gray eyes searched mine.
"Have you changed your mind? Are you coming home?"
"Nah. I'm enjoying my own company." I had to
turn my face away. She was too perceptive. She saw right through my
bullshit the same way she saw through Kyle's. I didn't know what it
was about that girl–maybe it was the purity that bounced off of
her– but it made it too hard to lie to her. You just couldn't. "So,
how you doing?" I mumbled as I stirred some sugar into the cup of
coffee Kyle had placed in front of me.
"I'm doing," she replied quietly.
"Did you think about meeting Tracy?" Kyle
asked. Lee glared at him and I personally wanted to kick him in the
balls.
Fucking idiot.
"Kyle," she said in a warning tone and I
knew the shit was about to hit the fan. "Let it go." She hopped
down from the stool and stormed into the lounge.
I stood up quickly. I was getting my ass out
of the line of fire. The last time I'd been around them during one
of their arguments I'd gotten an apple in the balls. Shit, for all
I knew Lee had neutered me. "Keep pushing and she'll run," I
muttered before leaving quickly.
****
Lee
"Just go to work, Kyle," I said wearily. I
was close to breaking point. I needed to stop this conversation. It
was the same one we'd been having with three freaking days. He
didn’t get it, refused to see my point of view. The man had zero
empathy and if he didn’t back the hell off this was going to end
badly. "I really don't want to have this same argument with you
over and over. I've told you how I feel…I have explained to you.
You need to respect that. Respect my choices. Respect me."
"You think I don't respect you?" He asked in
a disgusted tone of voice as stalked towards me. Grabbing my elbow
he led me back into the kitchen before closing the door behind us.
A small part of my mind appreciated the fact that he was caring
enough not to let Hope to see us like this. "Where the hell did you
get that notion from?" he hissed. "If I didn't respect you do you
think I'd be standing here listening to this?" He shook his head.
"Hell no. I would have put your ass in my car and driven you to the
Denver months ago."
"Don't you dare threaten me." I knew he
wasn't being serious. I knew it was an empty threat. But the
thought of being physically forced to do something–even by
Kyle–made me sick to my stomach. "Don't even joke about it."
Regret flickered in his eyes and he ran his
hand through his untamed hair. "Princess…"
"Just trust my choices and stop trying to
force me into doing what you want," I hissed as I shook his hand
off my elbow. "I don't force you to do anything you don't want to
do, so stop trying to force me. I'm a grown woman, Kyle. I have my
own mind."
He released me immediately and ran his hands
through his hand. "She's your mother, princess."
"Oh my god." I threw my hands in the air. "I
can't talk to you." He didn't get it. Stepping around him, I moved
towards the door. I needed to remove myself from this situation
before I said something I'd regret.
"Dammit, will you just hear me out," Kyle
growled as he pushed past me to block the doorway. He towered over
me. His height and muscular build intimidated me. But there was no
way in hell I was backing down on this one. I squared my shoulders
and forced my eyes to meet his. "Don't even think about running,
princess," he warned me. "There's nowhere you can hide that I won't
find you."
"Nice choice of words, asshat," I growled
even though my heart was in my mouth. "Do you plan to bully me for
the rest of our lives, or only when I don't do what you want me to
do?"
"Not if you stop behaving like a spoiled
little brat for two damn minutes and fucking listen to me," he
tossed back at me.
His words took the air out of my lungs. I
felt physically winded. "Spoiled brat." I whispered. "Good to know
what you really think of me."
Kyle hissed in frustration. He threw his
hands in the air. "You know I didn't mean that…Fuck, you ruin my
thought process." He was breathing hard as he pinched the bridge of
his nose. I wanted to pinch his nose. I want to pull his stupid
nose right off his face.
"And you are ruining our relationship," I
snarled.
"I'm doing this for you, Lee," he growled,
eyes full of hurt. "Every damn thing I do is for you…is to make you
happy."
"You're making me miserable," I spat. "And
be honest, Kyle, the only person you're doing this for is yourself.
If you're so damn desperate to have a '
mommy'
you don't need
to use me as your excuse to play happy families. Take my one. She's
flighty and probably won't stick around for more than five minutes.
But hey, she's all yours."
I regretted the words the moment they
slipped out of my mouth. The look of disgust on his face tore me.
"Kyle…" I started to say. but he held his hand up and shook his
head.
I didn't need to walk out.
Kyle beat me to it.
****
Kyle
I was
regretting getting out of bed this morning. If Marcus hadn't called
me–about some stupid emergency I was yet to
be briefed on–I would still be at home
trying to talk some sense into Lee. Jesus Christ, what she'd said
hit a nerve. Worse than a nerve…She'd severed a damn artery with
those words. I never spoke much about my mom to anyone besides her
and she'd thrown it in my face.
Pacing the
length of my office, I attempted to calm myself down. Calmness
wasn't coming though. I was too riled up.
'If you're so damn desperate to have a 'mommy' you
don't need to use me as your excuse to play happy families. Take my
one.'
I knew she
didn't mean it. I'd seen the regret in her eyes. If I'd stayed I
had no doubt she would have apologised. It didn't matter much
though. The fact that she'd thought it and said it out loud was
enough. It was out there now. It was between us. She thought I was
substituting my dead mother with hers…
My phone
vibrated in my pocket. Sliding it out, I glanced at the screen and
quickly sent the call to voicemail. That was the seventh time Lee
had called in the past hour. Ignoring her was a shitty thing to do,
but I couldn't deal with her right now. She was fragile and I was
furious. Bad fucking combination. I needed to cool down
first.
The door of my
office swung open.
"She's called in sick again, Mr. Carter,"
Marcus, my weekend manager, complained as he came and sat in the
chair in front of my desk. Scrolling through his iPad, Marcus
continued to ramble like a lunatic. "I'm going to have to bring in
a temp to help run this place. She's not dependable. I'm down two
waitresses in the front bar and I can't man the desk while I'm
doing double my workload."
"Who?" I asked, not one bit interested in
what he was rambling on about.
"Linda," Marcus growled and he had my full
attention immediately. "This is the eighth sick day she's taken
this month, Mr. Carter," he grumbled. "Christmas is around the damn
corner and I'm sinking in paperwork."
I wasn't bothered about Linda taking time
off. She could have as much time as she wanted. God knows, the
woman had done enough for me. She could have whatever the hell she
wanted. But I was worried. She was never sick. I couldn't think of
a single day in the past eleven years where I'd seen her come down
with anything worse than a cold. I hadn't phoned her in a few
weeks. I'd been too self-absorbed with my own life…
Shit.
"Who were you thinking of?" I asked,
stretching my legs out under my desk. I couldn't concentrate. I was
agitated as hell. I was worried…
"I think you should promote Mike to
temporary manager." That got my attention. Marcus looked at me with
nervous eyes and wiped his brow. He was in his late forties and a
loyal employee hired by my grandfather. I respected the man but he
was pushing my buttons today. "I know there's some tension between
you two, but he knows this place inside out. I can't think of
anyone more suitable. It will take weeks to find, hire and train
someone new."
He got that fucking right. Tension was an
understatement. "No," I snapped. I felt sorry for Mike over the
whole Cam thing, but I wasn’t naïve enough to trust him…He could be
playing me. It could all be a game… "No way. Find someone
else."
"Fine," Marcus muttered. "But I'm gonna need
you here until I can get someone else. Linda has been flaking on
her duties and things have been slipping with a while."
****
I hadn't realized the place had gone to shit
so much. Walking around the hotel I was stunned to realize that
Marcus was right. The damn bar was understaffed. There was only one
waitress on the restaurant floor with thirty tables full with
customers and, like he'd said, the front desk was empty.
Shit.
Pulling my phone out, I dialed Linda's
number. She answered on the fifth ring. "Hey, kiddo." Damn, she
really did sound sick.
"What's wrong with you," I asked in a quiet
tone as anxiety clawed at my gut. "You're never sick."
"I'm sixty-for years old, Kyle," she
chuckled, but her voice was weak and raspy. "I'm getting old. I'm
gonna get sick sometimes."
"What's wrong with you?" I repeated as I
rubbed my brow. "Tell me, Linda." The line went quiet and I knew it
was bad. Fuck. I knew it. Something was wrong.
"Just an infection I can't seem to shake
off," she finally said in a placating tone of voice.
"Bullshit," I growled as I ran my free hand
through my hair. "You're lying to me. I can hear it in your
voice."
"Don't be so dramatic, Kyle," she warned
before coughing. "You'll give yourself wrinkles with all your damn
worrying. I'm fine. But I'm gonna need some more time off."
"You know you don't have to ask me for
that," I whispered. She was lying. Something wasn't right. This was
bad. I fucking knew it. "Can I come see you?"
"Not today," she said quickly. Too quickly.
"I'm going away for a couple of days. I need the rest and
recuperation. Gonna go visit my sister, Patty. You remember Patty,
don't you? The lady who used to tease you for that Mohawk phase you
went through."
"Yeah," I sighed. "I remember Patty."
Couldn't forget her if I tried. Woman was bat shit crazy. "Don't
try and change the subject."
"I'm not," she assured me. "You're
overthinking things."
"What am I gonna do around here?" I
mumbled.
"You're going to have Michael do my job
until I'm back," she said before adding, "Calm your temper, Kyle."
I bit down on my lip in an attempt to keep my mouth shut. She knew
me too well. "He's the right person for the job and it will only be
for a few weeks," she coaxed. "And to be honest, the boy's been a
mess since the shooting. Help your brother. Be the bigger man,
Kyle, and make me proud."
****
Lee
I was a horrible human being. My brain was
like a broken record, playing out every nasty word I'd said to Kyle
this morning until I felt I would burst if I didn't apologize to
him. The anxiety building inside of me quadrupled when he'd sent my
calls to voicemail–all seven of them.
I was sitting on the floor in the lounge
watching Hope bounce in her jumperoo when the intercom for the
front gate alarm starting buzzing. My first reaction was to crouch
low to the floor until my lungs re-filled and my heart returned to
its normal rhythm, which was a bad move since it gave my daughter
old ample opportunity to grab a fistful of my hair.
Freeing my hair from her chubby little
fingers, I climbed to my feet and went into the hall only to stare
in dismay at the keypad. "Which button did daddy tell momma to
push, Hope?" I mumbled as my eyes roamed over the dozen or so
buttons–all identical–all flashing.
Taking a gamble I pressed the one on the
bottom of keypad. The noise stopped and I sagged in relief, until I
realized I hadn't checked who I was buzzing in. Dammit…