Authors: Kami Kayne
“I know about the boys.” Sandy handed Candi the full cup in her hand and motioned to the tray of fresh baked muffins sitting on the counter. “Muffin?”
Dumbstruck, Candi stared at the muffins. Had she just said...?
She knew what about the boys?
What did she know? Did she know...everything?
Afraid to say a word, Candi grabbed what looked like a strawberry muffin in her free hand.
“Plate?” Sandy set a small saucer on the counter, and Candi put her muffin on it. Then Sandy reached around her to get a muffin for herself and tipped her head toward the door. “How about we go outside? There’s a nice breeze at this time of day.”
“Ssssure.” Feeling like she was being lured into a trap, Candi followed her stepmother outside. They settled in the pair of old creaky wooden chairs situated around a small table on the porch.
A gentle breeze caught Candi’s hair, sending it whipping around her face. Sandy hadn’t been lying about that; the breeze was cool and smelled like freshly mown grass with a hint of something sweet thrown in. “This is really nice. I can’t believe I never sat out here to eat before.”
“When you were young, you were too busy to slow down and enjoy anything.”
That made her chuckle. “That hasn’t changed much. That’s part of the reason why I decided to move back home. My life has become too much of a blur. I wake, rush to work, rush around at work, rush home, rush off to nightclubs or parties with friends, and then I fall into bed, just to do it all again the next day.
“I woke up one morning and asked myself why I was doing that to myself. I wasn’t enjoying any of it. Not the job. Not the parties. And I realized why. I was going through the motions.”
Sandy’s expression was distant, as if she were looking far into the future, or maybe the past. “Ah yes, the hazards of living a big life in a big city. I know them well. Before I married your father, I was living a life similar to yours. I’m glad now that I took the dive when I did and got out. This is a much better way to live.” She sipped. The sounds of nature, bird song, insect churr and the distant bleat of sheep filled the silence. “Those boys grew up out here. They belong in the country. But they’re far from simple men. Far from it.” Sandy leveled her gaze at Candi.
Candi wasn’t sure what Sandy was expecting her to say. Thus, she said nothing.
“I made sure they’re educated,” Sandy continued. “They can find work anywhere if they wanted. They’ll be good providers. And they are loving men, not afraid of making a commitment and sticking with it.”
“What are you trying to say to me?” Candi asked, squirming slightly in her chair. She set down her cup and pushed her plate away. Suddenly, she wasn’t so hungry, and this wasn’t so nice. It was awkward and uncomfortable. She hadn’t seen this coming. Not at all. If anything, she’d expected Sandy to be shocked.
“Give them a chance,” Sandy said.
“A chance to do what?”
“They care for you. Deeply. And they need you.”
Candi had no idea how to respond. She opened her mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. No words would come out. Her face was heating up. She broke out in a sudden sweat. What could she say? She couldn’t tell Sandy her nephews were sadistic assholes. But that was exactly how she felt at the moment.
“Is it that hard for you to believe I want to see my boys with someone who is good, who will make them happy?”
Sandy couldn’t possibly know what they were like. “I suppose not,” Candi managed to stutter. “But...”
“But you grew up with them. Is that what you’re trying to say? You were like a sister to them? It would be strange? Is that what you’re thinking? Is that why you’re leaving?”
“Not exactly.” Candi decided to guzzle half her cup of coffee in one long series of gulps. Good thing it had cooled down a little. She might’ve scalded her throat if it hadn’t.
“Did one of them hurt you?” Sandy asked.
Candi had been mid-swallow when that question hit. The coffee that had been on its way down was sucked into her lungs and she sputtered a little.
Sandy handed her a napkin. “You’re so flustered. I’m sorry. I guess I misread you. I didn’t think you’d be the kind to react like this to a simple conversation.”
Simple? This discussion wasn’t exactly simple. “No, Cody and Justin didn’t...hurt me. It’s all very complicated--”
“Then, they hurt your feelings--”
“Please,” Candi interrupted, lifting a hand, palm out. “I can’t talk to you about this. It’s too weird. You’re their aunt. My stepmother. No, I can’t.”
“I see that now. Consider the subject dropped.” Sandy took a swallow from her cup and smiled. “Have you found a place to live yet?”
“Not exactly.”
“Hmm.” Sandy lifted her cup to her mouth again. This time she studied Candi over the rim.
“I’m sure I can find an apartment close by. Something inexpensive. I’m not picky.”
“I have a friend who owns a few properties. They’re all very nice. I can see if he has any units available.”
“Sure. That would be great. Thank you.”
“That’s the least I can do, since you’ve been so kind, helping me clean out this huge house and getting it ready to put on the market. It’s so big. The boys want to move on, get their own places. I don’t need anything this huge. And I certainly don’t need all the upkeep a place like this requires. I’m looking forward to getting a nice little condo somewhere.”
“That does sound wonderful.”
Sandy stood. “Not that I won’t miss those boys. The noise. The companionship.” Her eyes looked a little sad, and for the first time, Candi wondered if Sandy was truly ready for this move. Somehow, she’d managed to keep the old farm house and barn from completely falling apart by herself for four long years. It was a lot of work. Candi could see why she’d need to find something easier, maintenance free. But maybe she was having a hard time leaving the memories. There were plenty of those in this house.
Candi hadn’t been lying about that.
Sandy stood, gathered her cup and saucer in her hands. “I’m going inside and pack up the kitchen. I don’t do a lot of cooking anymore. Better to clear out what I don’t need.”
Candi’s gaze slid to the barn before winding back toward the house, and for the first time, she wondered if
she
was ready for this move. Once Sandy was gone, and the farm was sold, she’d never again be able to wander into that barn, or swim in the pond. “I’ll be in to help in a few.”
“Don’t hurry. Take your time. That’s why you’re here, remember? You’re done hurrying through life.”
After taking a long walk around the property, Candi spent hours working down in the cellar, digging through boxes and crates and plastic tubs full of old junk. By dinnertime, her eyes were burning from overexposure to dust, but the basement was almost empty and she felt like she’d accomplished a ton. Better yet, not once did either Dean brother come downstairs. When she was ready to quit for the day, she headed upstairs, grabbed some clean clothes from her car, took a quick shower, and changed. Once she was through, she followed the mouthwatering scent of fried chicken into the kitchen.
Sandy was hustling around, getting dinner ready. “Looks like it’s just going to be the two of us tonight.” She motioned to the food sitting on the stove. “Help yourself.”
“Thanks.” Candi grabbed a plate, dropped a thigh on it, added some mashed potatoes and corn and carried it to the table.
Sandy jerked her head toward the door. “When I’m alone, I prefer to eat in the living room. That way I can get caught up on my shows.”
“Sounds good.” Candi followed her stepmother into the cozy little living room.
Sandy grabbed a wood folding table from the stand sitting against the wall, pulled it open and handed it to Candi. Then she opened one for herself, and once they had settled, remoted on the old analog television. She clicked through a menu, selected recordings and in the next instant, they were watching some young girl wearing a string bikini cry because
The Bachelor
hadn’t kissed her.
It was lame, but it was a distraction. A welcome one. Candi and her stepmother munched and crunched, their eyes full of soft-porn images of
The Bachelor
swapping spit with his bachelorettes. After the final scene, in which crying bikini girl was sent home in a limo, Sandy excused herself to go take care of some errands, and Candi headed out to her car to go find herself a hotel room for the night. Just as she was about to pull out of the gravel circular driveway, Sandy came out of the house, waving her arms. Candi put the vehicle back into park and powered down the window.
“I heard back from my friend,” Sandy said, leaning her head in the window. “He has a vacancy. It’s a nice little flat in Wyandotte. It isn’t quite ready--it’s being painted now--but you have first dibs if you’d like to take a look. Someone will be there to show it to you tomorrow morning, anytime after nine. As far as the rent goes, because he’s a good friend, he won’t take a security. Rent is negotiable.”
“What does that mean, negotiable?”
“He’s a
very
good friend.” Sandy handed over a piece of paper with the address and a phone number on it. “Take a look. I think you’ll like it.”
“Thanks.” Candi put the paper in her purse for safekeeping, and off she zoomed, heading for the closest hotel with air conditioning.
The next morning it felt strange waking up in a hotel room, alone. She hadn’t been staying at Sandy’s house long, but it seemed she’d already grown accustomed to the sound of cooking and low rumble of conversation. Candi went down to grab some coffee and a bagel in the hotel’s small breakfast room. She took it back up to her room and watched the news while she ate then jumped in the shower. A little before nine, she headed out to her car, and pointed it toward the address Sandy had written out for her.
Finding the house wasn’t difficult. She’d looked up the address on her cell phone before leaving the hotel. She drove around to the back where the owner had laid a concrete parking pad for the residents of the two flats. What remained of the lawn was nicely landscaped, tidy and neat, grass cut, no weeds. It looked like this owner had some pride in his properties. That was a very good sign.
The entry for the upper flat, the apartment she was there to see, was located in the rear of the house, facing the parking lot. She knocked. Within a few seconds, she heard the heavy thump, thump, thump of footsteps descending what she guessed was a narrow, steep wooden staircase. The door’s lock rattled and in the next second, she was locking eyes with Justin.
“What?” She staggered backward slightly at the shock, and found herself teetering on the edge of the tilted concrete slab. Justin caught her arm, pulling her upright.
“We’d better fix that,” he said, pointing at the slab.
Her tongue untangled itself. “Did Sandy set this up?”
“I guess you could say that, but it’s not what you think.” Standing in a tiny space the size of a broom closet, he motioned her toward the stairs. “Go on up. The place is almost ready. We’re finishing up the paint.”
Trying not to notice how sexy Justin looked in his snug t-shirt and jeans, she put as much space between her body and his as she side stepped past him, but it wasn’t enough. Not by a long shot. Despite her lingering hurt and anger over what happened yesterday, little tingles buzzed through her system, igniting her nerves, making parts all over her body warm. She fought to gain control, grabbing the handrail and clomping up the stairs. “You work for the landlord?”
“We’ve been working for him for over ten years.”
“Oh. She could’ve warned me.”
“Sure. But she probably thought you wouldn’t show up if you knew we’d be here.”
“I’m not that immature.”
“I’m not suggesting you’re immature.”
She stopped at the door at the top of the stairs. “Two doors? Do they both lock?” She glanced over her shoulder, decided that wasn’t such a good idea, after seeing how close Justin was standing, and turned back around to face the door at the top of the steps.
“They do. You’ll be plenty safe here.”
“That part’s nice. How is the neighborhood?”
“Most of the homes are single family. Not a lot of rentals. We’ve had no problems since we started working on the building a month ago. Cody probably locked it.” He reached around her to check. That put him much too close for comfort. So near, she was tempted to lean back, into his warmth, which was insane.
What was wrong with her?
“That’s good to hear,” she heard herself say.
He twisted the knob and pushed, and the door swung open.
It was none too soon. She’d felt her weight shifting slightly, the scents of his skin and soap drawing her closer, closer.
Candi stepped up into what looked like a spacious dining room-living room combo. Several windows lined the far wall, flooding both spaces with ample light. The wood floors looked brand new, but with the narrow planks, she assumed they were original. And there was gorgeous trim everywhere, around the windows, at the floor and ceiling.
But as great as the place looked, she couldn’t tear her gaze away from the two gorgeous brothers. They were both wearing snug black t-shirts and jeans. Their clothes were worn, the denim covered with splotches of paint. Their shaggy, wavy hair was mussed. But they had never looked better. She hated that.
“We’ve tried to keep some of the nicer original architecture intact.” Justin motioned to the columns separating the living and dining spaces. Cody picked up a paint roller and went back to work, applying a fresh coat of white paint to the ceiling. The motion of pushing and pulling that long handled paint roller did amazing things for his arms and shoulders. “These aren’t original, but we took them from another house we were renovating,” Justin said, motioning her to follow him through the dining room.
“They look like they’ve always been here.” Trying to pretend she wasn’t staring at Justin’s scrumptious body, she ran her hand down the smooth curved surface of the column.
“When we do a renovation, we try to balance the needs of the client with the building’s architecture.” Justin said, sounding very proud. He had good reason. The place was gorgeous.
“You’re very talented. I had no idea.”
“It was your father who taught us,” Cody said, lowering the paint roller to the pan to dunk it in the paint. “He taught us everything we know. He had an incredible gift for woodworking, but he also knew a fair amount about plumbing, heating and cooling, and electrical.”
“Really? I knew he was handy, but I had no idea he was this handy.” Ironically, the house he’d shared with Sandy had remained almost completely original. He’d talked about converting the smallest bedroom into a bathroom once, but he abandoned that idea. And that had been that. The walls were painted a safe, boring beige, the wood floors left in their original gouged and creaky condition, and the drafty windows sealed with taped on plastic sheets in the winter, rather than changed out for newer, energy saving ones.
As if he read her mind, Justin laughed. “Yeah. The house was pretty much a wreck. I don’t think he had the heart to change anything. There was a lot of history in that place. And he didn’t want to erase it all.”
“So how did he teach you how to do all of this? When?”
“He bought his first rental property fifteen years ago,” Cody said.
“He did? That long ago?” All this time, Candi had thought her father was a chemist, working for a local manufacturer of industrial solvents and cleaners.
Justin nodded. “At one point, he’d owned over thirty properties.”
“He left the business to us,” Cody added. “But there was one condition. If you ever needed a place to live, we would provide a home for you at no cost.”
This was mind blowing. Her father, the chemist, had owned over thirty rental properties? He was a business owner?
“The income is split three ways,” Justin told her. “Your share, which is a sixth--you and Sandy share equal parts of your father’s third--has been accumulating in a trust, set up by your father before he died.”
“My share?” she echoed. She couldn’t believe what she was hearing. There was a trust? There was money left for her?
All this time, she’d assumed there’d been nothing left, that everything worth anything had been sold when he’d run out of money and his benefits had been cut off. He’d lived with, struggled to survive, cancer for five long years. And he had been too ill to work for much of that time.
He’d once told her he’d cashed in every life insurance policy he’d owned to try to scrape together enough money to make ends meet.
But he owned real estate? He owned valuable property?
That didn’t make sense. Why wouldn’t he sell that?
Justin’s brows furrowed. “If you don’t like this place, we have a couple more for you to look at. This was the only rental property he owned when he was alive. He sold all the others, the last one about six months before he died. He’d said it was special. That’s why we thought you might want to take this one.” He stood at the front of the living room, next to a wide window that overlooked the street below. “In the last four years, we’ve done pretty well, buying property. Sometimes flipping them. We have twelve properties now. If you’d rather see something else--“
“No, if he said this one is special, then it’s good enough for me.” She glanced around, almost imagining her father standing next to her, admiring the pretty woodwork. She hadn’t seen him do any woodwork, but she knew he appreciated quality craftsmanship when he saw it. A pang of heartache shot through her chest. “It’s perfect.”
Cody raised the paint roller up to the ceiling again. “Good. We thought you’d like it.”
“The first of the bedrooms is this way,” Justin said, motioning to a door leading off the living room. He opened it, stepping aside to let her in.
The room was a lot larger than she’d expected. It smelled like fresh paint and wood polish. And centered against the back wall, between two narrow windows, was the most amazing four poster bed she’d ever seen. “Is the bed included?” she joked, fully expecting to hear it wasn’t.
“It is for you.” Justin wrapped his fist around the closest post. “It was a special find. I picked it up last month at an estate sale. We had it in storage. Moved it in this morning, before you got here. We thought you’d like it.”
She did. Actually, she didn’t just like it, she loved it. Upon closer inspection, she could really appreciate the hand carved details on the headboard. “Wow. They don’t make them like this anymore, do they?”
“No, they don’t. We replaced the original rope mattress supports with a wood frame, bought brand new box springs and a mattress.” Justin motioned to the bed, dressed in crisp white linens and an insanely beautiful quilt. “The quilt was made by a friend. We hope you like it too.”
“This is...I don’t know what to say.” She turned to face him, tears gathering in her eyes. This was all too much, so kind and generous.
“You don’t have to say anything. We’re glad to have you back home, and we hope you’ll be happy here, if you decide to take the place.” Justin gave her a crooked smile and her heart did a little flip flop. “You haven’t told us yet if you want the apartment. What do you think?”
“I want it. It’s perfect.” She thumbed away the tears clinging to her lower lashes.
“Good. Wait until you see the kitchen,” Cody said, coming out from nowhere, grabbing her hand and half-dragging her back out to the living room. “We gutted it, put in all new fixtures.” Hand in hand, they tromped back through the dining room. “Oh, second bedroom is there.” He hooked his thumb over his shoulder, pointing at the door centered on the right wall. “You can take a roommate or use it for whatever you want.” He paused at the arched opening to the kitchen, waiting for her to cross the threshold first. “Well? What do you think?”
“Oh...Wow.” Her gaze jumped from the marble counter to the glass tiled backsplash to the cream painted cupboards and open shelving on top. It was gorgeous, as pretty as any kitchen she’d seen in a magazine.
“We didn’t use wall cabinets to keep it feeling open and spacious.” He led her through the open space that could be an eat-in nook, motioning to the doors leading off to the left. “The first door is the bathroom. The second is a walk in closet with laundry.”
She opened the laundry door and peered in. Full sized appliances sat side by side, shelves stacked overhead for storage. “You two thought of everything.”
“We tried.” Still holding her hand, he turned to face her fully. “Now that we’ve settled this situation, and you have a place to live, I’d like to talk about the little misunderstanding we had yesterday.”
“Are you ready to tell me what the hell is going on? You can’t treat people that way. I mean, what we did was...fine. But then you held me down while Justin...he practically raped me.”
He motioned for her to take a seat on the wooden chair positioned next to what would soon be a breakfast bar. He didn’t say anything until she was sitting. “It isn’t that we want to keep secrets from you. We trust you. More than either of us can say. But this is something we can’t talk about with you.”
She felt her eyes burning, and she couldn’t say exactly why. Was she angry? Yes. And hurt. But more than that, she was confused. In the span of a very short period of time, she’d more or less lost two very close friends. And, on top of that, her dreams of them becoming more were completely shattered. And why?
“I’m sorry, Candi. This is all my fault. Justin tried to warn us both that it was a bad idea. But I care about you. And more than that, I...want you. As more than a friend. As a lover. As a confidant. As a soul mate.”
Gah! That only made things that much more painful.
“Yesterday, when Justin...got rough, was that real?”
“Yes, of course.”
“So he wasn’t doing those things to try to scare me away.”
“No.”
In other words, Justin liked it rough. And he thought she might get into that.
A pulse of heat blazed through her body. Maybe she did, to a certain degree. She did enjoy feeling helpless, powerless. She did enjoy having Cody hold her while he fucked her with his fingers. But she had also been scared. Shocked. Yes, that was more like it. She’d been shocked.
I think I understand now.
“Good.” He looked glad. And relieved. Extremely relieved. “Neither of us want to hurt you. You’re very precious to us.” He reached up, as if he wanted to touch her face but then he pulled his hand back.
She asked, “Can I ask you a question?” At his nod, she continued, “Have you or Justin ever had a long term relationship?”
“Define long term.” His lips curled into a slightly naughty smile that made her insides get warm.
“Longer than a year?”
“No.” His answer came swiftly.
“Why?”
“There were a number of reasons. Bad timing, generally. Either the woman wasn’t ready for us, or we weren’t ready for her.”
“We? Us? Has it always been we?”
He traced the wandering vein of gray in the marble counter top with his index finger. His gaze flicked to the dining room, where Justin was now painting. “Yes.”
“Why?”
He didn’t answer right away. She could see he was struggling with something, but what? Why would two brothers choose to always share the same woman? She’d never met two men who’d done that. In fact, most of the men she’d dated, including her ex-fiancé, were very anti-sharing. “When we were younger, my brother and I went through some very painful experiences together. Those moments have influenced us.”
“Painful? As in...?”
“We were sexually molested. For several years.” He wasn’t looking her in the eye. She wanted to know why.
“By who? Who did that to you?” she pressed, feeling like she was finally getting close to the truth about the men she was struggling to understand. She’d known the kind, fun, goofy Justin and Cody for years. They were real. And yet those men seemed to so different from the men she’d met up in that barn loft.
“It doesn’t matter.” He jerked his gaze away from the counter, focusing on the dining room, where Justin as still painting. “It’s done, and we’ve put the past behind us as much as we can.”
Once again, she fought to understand. “Okay. I’m sorry. I don’t mean to prod. Have you told anyone?”
He shook his head. Not everything.
“But what if he does it again, to some other innocent boy? Did you go to the police? Have you tried to stop him?”
“No, we didn’t go to the police. But he can’t do it again. That’s not possible.”
“Why?” A sick feeling started bubbling inside her belly. She had no idea where it was coming from, but it was there and getting worse by the second.
A man had molested Cody and Justin.
That man had scarred them for life.
But they’d kept this horrific secret all this time. And by doing so, they’d protected someone who had hurt them.
What child would do that? Unless it was someone they respected and cared about...
Someone like her father.
Not their father, who was rotting in prison. No, if it had been him, they wouldn’t have hesitated to tell her. They’d talked about him a lot. He’d done some horrible things, but nothing like this.
Could it be her dad?
She cupped her hand over her mouth. Her hand started shaking. Then her whole body started trembling.
“Shit,” Cody said.
Justin came running. He took one look at Candi and snapped, “What did you say?” He squatted, dropping so his eyes were level with hers. “Candi? Honey?”
“It was my father, wasn’t it?” she whispered. “He was the one who hurt you.”
The look on Justin’s face said everything. He didn’t have to say a single word.
It seemed her father had kept a lot of secrets from her. Not just about a business he’d started, or money he’d set aside for her future. But also a terrible, dark secret.
Her father.
Her daddy.
The man who’d taught her how to fish.
And taken her camping.
And bought her a guitar and showed her how to waltz.
When she was little, she had thought she’d known him so well. The truth was, she hadn’t known him at all.
Cody gathered her hands into his. “You’ve always said such nice things about your father. Kind things.”
“We didn’t want you to find out,” Justin added. “We didn’t want to taint the good memories you have of him.”
Were those memories tainted? She didn’t know what she was feeling. Repulsion and shock. Disbelief.
It can’t be true.
But it has to be.
They wouldn’t lie.
Not about something like this.
But my father?
No. It isn’t possible.
They wouldn’t make this up.
What do I believe?
“Are you okay?” Cody asked, his expression darkening.
Justin glared at his brother. “Dammit, I told you not to say anything. Why’d you tell her?”