Heartbreaker (Havenbrook #3)

Chapter 28

CHAPTER TWENTY-EIGHT

MAC

“Someone better tell me something to take my mind off all this nonsense.” Nat huffed and crossed her arms, leaning back into the uncomfortable chair. “Isn’t it just like Daddy to ruin a perfectly good trip home?”

It was obvious she was trying for snideness, but the wobble in her voice meant she didn’t quite pull it off.

We were clustered in the waiting room where we’d been for the past three hours, save for the short break when Finn, Nash, and Hudson had gone to grab everyone something to eat. Momma and Gran had only managed to nibble, most of the food going cold and uneaten in the takeout containers.

“Rory,” Will said, tipping a head in her direction. “That’s all you. What’s the news on the street?”

Rory hummed, her gaze bouncing around as if looking for inspiration in the drab walls of the hospital. “Oh! Did y’all hear about how Earl found a dead squirrel under his bed, and he doesn’t know how it got there?”

I gasped, my eyes going wide, but I quickly slapped a hand over my mouth when everyone whipped their heads in my direction. I sat tucked into Hudson’s side, his arm over the back of her chair as he alternated playing mindlessly with my hair and rubbing the aching, tight muscles in my neck.

“What do you know?” Rory asked, eyes narrowed.

A single look at Gran—one of Edna’s best friends and her ride or die—had me rolling my lips between my teeth and biting back the information that was bubbling to spill out. Besides, all I had was circumstantial evidence and hearsay.

So Edna had explicitly told me she was going to do that. And, yeah, okay, I had an actual text with the woman confessing her plans to do so. So what?

“What do I know about a dead squirrel?” I waved my hand in front of me as if brushing aside the boring news. “Who cares? Earl’s dumber than a doorknob. The fool probably forgot he shot one in his backyard, and Macy hauled it in for him. Seems like every week, he has another story about something that dog’s dragged in.”

Gran lifted her eyebrows and dipped her chin in an impressed gesture. Look at me—earning back points in the eyes of my family through lies. I was just a winner all around, wasn’t I?

“Did y’all tell ’em about Ella?” Finn asked.

Will snapped her head toward her fiancé, her brows furrowed. “What about her? And why do you know about it and I don’t?”

“Relax, Willowtree.” He hooked an arm around her shoulders and tugged her to him to press a kiss against her head. “Nash just told us about it when we grabbed food for y’all.”

“What’d my little firecracker do now?” Momma asked, exhaustion seeping into her tone.

Rory’s eye roll said more than a thousand words, and she gestured to her boyfriend. “Go on… I know how much you love rehashin’ it.”

Nash’s grin split his face. “Ella punched little Tommy Boulger right in the nose. Popped him nice and good—made him bleed and everything.”

I had to bite back a laugh at the glee in Nash’s tone—a response that wouldn’t go unnoticed by the group, considering the rest of them. There was a chorus of reactions, ranging from gasps—Momma and Will—to hoots—Gran and Finn—to a low whistle and an impressed, “Damn, girl” from Nat.

Hudson chuckled low under his breath. Then in a voice meant only for me, he whispered in my ear, “She learn that from you?”

I elbowed him in the gut, my first true smile of the day coming out at his jolt and muttered, “ Oof .”

“I don’t know why you get such a kick outta tellin’ this story,” Rory said.

“Um, maybe because she’s a little badass? She did exactly like I taught her and didn’t even blink.”

“Wait, this was your doin’?” I asked, pointing at Nash.

Rory had come a long way from the epitome of perfection she used to be, but I couldn’t imagine my sister had been happy to sit down with Tommy’s parents in the principal’s office. Especially considering Tommy Junior picked up his ways courtesy of good old dad. And to know Rory was doing so thanks to her boyfriend probably meant a tense night—or several nights—in their house.

“Yep,” he said, completely without remorse. “And I’d do it again in a heartbeat. She told me the little shit—pardon my French—” he tipped his head toward Momma and Gran “—wouldn’t leave her alone at recess. Even after she’d told him to stop. Even after she’d mentioned it to the teacher.” He sat back, his legs outstretched in front of him, arms crossed over his chest, looking like he’d just won the world’s biggest pissing contest. “So, you’re damn right I taught her how to throw a punch. I’d do it again without hesitation.”

“Still can’t believe you did that,” Rory mumbled.

“Gonna teach Ava too,” he said with a definitive nod. “We’re not gonna have any of this boys will be boys bullsh— ’scuse me, bullcrap in our house. Those girls are gonna know what to do if someone doesn’t heed the warnin’ when they say no.”

“You did the same thing for me, do you remember?” Nat turned to face him and tugged on his shirt sleeve. “When Jonah Loflin kept tryin’ to peek up my skirt in seventh grade?”

“Why don’t I remember that?” Momma asked, her brow furrowed.

“’Cause I never told you.” Nat shrugged in a way that said there was a whole lot of shit she kept from our momma, and it was best for everyone that she not venture down that path.

Momma—no doubt well used to this sort of thing with her youngest child—simply exhaled a heavy sigh and shook her head.

“I’m not sorry about that either,” Nash said. “They both deserved to get some sense knocked into their brains.”

“You know one of them is a seven-year-old, right?” Rory said dryly, though there was no mistaking the fondness in her voice.

Nash shrugged. “I don’t care if he’s seven or sixty-seven—it’s never a bad time to remind a man how he should be treatin’ a lady.”

Conversation flowed around me, naturally transitioning into tales of when our daddy was young and had to be guided back onto the right path. By the end of the stories, we’d managed to find some laughter, but a few tears had fallen—though I had kept most of mine locked down tight.

Rory’s arms were flying as she entertained everyone with an animated story of Ella attempting to make pancakes—unsupervised—one morning, when I caught movement out of the corner of my eye. I glanced over in time to see Nash poking Nat in the leg, then lifting his chin to something down the corridor. I twisted around to find a tall, male figure striding toward us, and I turned back just as Nat stood without another word.

My sister practically ran down the hall and straight into the man’s waiting arms. Asher, I realized, when I could make out his distinguishing features. His dark hair, longer on top, was unkempt—his jaw, too, the scruff on it about thirty-six hours past a five-o’clock shadow—as if he hadn’t had time to even glance in a mirror before he left.

Asher held Nat while she clung to him, her hands bunched into his coat as he leaned down so their cheeks were pressed together. He must’ve whispered something in her ear, because she nodded, and then he turned them down a side hallway and out of sight.

A gasp had my attention drawn to the nurses station where Patty—one of the nurses who’d been keeping us updated—sat, her mouth agape.

“Do you know who that was?” Patty said to the woman sitting next to her behind the nurses station. “That was Asher Mc ?—”

I stopped listening and rolled my eyes as I twisted back around. I hadn’t ever really gotten used to the whole Asher being semifamous—at least in our pocket of the South—thing. It was weird trying to reconcile the boy I’d known his whole life with how his fans saw him now.

“That your doin’?” I asked Nash with raised eyebrows.

He inclined his head, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

“That was real sweet of you,” Rory said and kissed him softly before muffled squealing in the direction of the nurses station snagged everyone’s attention again.

Rory huffed and pursed her lips as the nurses continued going on and on— Asher this and Asher that.

“They’re bein’ a little ridiculous, don’t you think?” she asked, her voice low. “It’s Asher for heaven’s sake, and they’re actin’ like he’s God’s gift to women.” She scoffed and rolled her eyes, settling back in her chair with her arms crossed over her chest. “Please…I used to change that boy’s diapers.”

A hush fell over everyone sitting around, and then Nash simply lifted an eyebrow in Rory’s direction.

It took her a minute, but when she understood what she’d just done—comparing her same-age boyfriend to the boy whose diapers she used to change—her face went bright red, and she sputtered. “Well—I… I didn’t?—”

I couldn’t hold in my laughter anymore—especially not when I could feel Hudson’s body vibrating next to me. Once I let loose my first peal of giggles, it was a domino effect in the waiting room, until everyone—even Rory—was cracking up, tears streaming down our faces thanks to something other than concern and fear.

“Y’all better not be laughin’ at my expense,” Nat said from over my shoulder.

I glanced back at her and swallowed down my first inclination to do something, because my sister’s eyes were red-rimmed and puffy, color high on her cheeks. But she had her arm linked in Asher’s, her hand clutching his forearm as if she were pulling all the strength she needed from his body right into hers.

And I knew calling Nat out wouldn’t help anyone—my sister needed to act like this was no big deal. Since I had been failing left and right, letting down the people I loved, I sure as hell wasn’t going to fail this. Giving my sister the veil of strength she obviously needed was something I could do.

I waved her off. “Nah, we’re laughin’ at Rory.”

“Oh. Well.” Nat’s lips twitched as she glanced at our eldest sister. “Carry on, then…”

That only made everyone laugh harder, and soon we were all trying to catch our breaths between guffaws.

The weight that’d settled in my stomach since the phone call this morning receded, and I hoped it was doing the same for everyone else. We’d needed that levity. Desperately. Even though—especially because—Daddy was still in surgery.

“Y’all are gonna have to quiet down.” A nurse—one I hadn’t seen before—stood with her hands on her hips, her eyes narrowed at us. “This is the ICU waiting room, and y’all are carryin’ on like you’re at a honky-tonk. You’re disturbin’ others.”

I glanced around and noticed it was just our family, a lady wearing headphones while knitting up a storm, and an older gentleman in the back corner, his snores heard all the way across the room.

“Who, exactly, are we disturbin’?” Nat asked, pointedly looking around to the people sharing the space with us who very obviously didn’t give a shit.

The nurse sniffed and lifted her chin higher. “ Others . Now, quiet down, or I’m gonna have to ask you to leave.”

Rory stood so fast, Nash had to reach back and steady her chair so it didn’t fall to the floor. “I beg your pardon, Miss—” Rory glanced down at the nurse’s ID card “—Beth, but we’re not goin’ anywhere until we know our daddy’s okay. Then and only then will we consider gettin’ out of your hair. And until that time comes, my family and I are gonna enjoy one another’s company as best we can while my father is in life-saving surgery!” Her voice rose with every word until she was nearly shouting.

She seemed to realize that and straightened, clearing her throat. Lifting her hand, she fluttered it toward the nurse in a shooing motion. “So, buh-bye. Run along now.”

Rory crossed her arms and glared at Beth until she finally relented with a huff and headed back to the nurses station.

A hush fell over our group until Nat spoke up, laughter in her voice. “Holy shit , I can’t believe that just happened. Who even are you?”

Will laughed. “I forgot you haven’t seen her in action since…”

“Since I lost my mind?” Rory asked dryly.

“No, sugar,” Gran said. “Since you finally grew a set of lady balls.”

I chuckled along with everyone else as Hudson leaned close, whispering in my ear, “Your gran is the best.”

The tickle of his breath sent shivers through me, and I turned my head to meet his gaze, my eyes dropping to his lips. He traced tiny circles at the base of my neck with his thumb, reminding me of when he made that same motion on a very different body part. My God, how could I be so terrified and still want him this much?

“I don’t think I could love you more, Gran,” Asher said, his deep, rumbling voice snapping me out of my trance.

I whipped my head to him along with everyone else, as if we’d all just remembered he was there. His hand was in the pocket of his battered jeans, his old Rugrats T-shirt stretching across his chest. It was too short for him, the hem barely hitting the waistband of his jeans, and the screen print on the front was cracked and faded. I was pretty sure he used to wear that in his early high school years, and he’d grown a hell of a lot since then. He’d very obviously grabbed the closest pieces of clothing and jumped in his car without giving another thought to anything but being here with Nat.

“Yet you never come see me,” Gran said, admonishment in her tone. “And you haven’t even given me a hug.”

Without another word, Asher strode to her and swept her up into his arms, and then it was a hug-fest where everyone got their turn welcoming him home. As I watched my loved ones talk and laugh, the center of my chest tightened with longing.

I wanted that. Wanted desperately to be the person my friends and family called when they needed someone. Wanted, even, just to be a person someone thought of.

All my life, I’d been nothing more than an afterthought. I loved my sisters beyond measure, but they outshone me in all things. Because of that, I’d never truly been seen.

Except by Hudson.

But then he’d gone away without a backward glance, his duty to himself outshining anything we’d had.

And even Will—the person who was the other half of my heart—practically ignored me both times she’d fallen for Finn, as her world had begun to orbit around him. I knew Will hadn’t done it maliciously. It was simply because she didn’t need me anymore. My sister had found, and then reconnected with, her person.

Nash was that for Rory. Asher, though platonically, was that for Nat. Who did I have? And who had me ?

The thought made my stomach twist and my throat tighten. It made me want to shrink in my seat until I couldn’t be seen. Hide myself away like I’d been doing my whole life.

Because if I pulled away first, if I avoided and hid from the world, it wouldn’t hurt so badly when no one needed or noticed me.

But was it really hiding if no one saw you anyway?