Chapter 8
Chapter eight
Sawyer
The nurse came in several times during the night to check on Ty. Between her visits and the sounds of the hospital and my own need to ensure that he was okay, breathing evenly beside me, I barely slept.
Near dawn, I fall into a deeper sleep, and an hour or so later, as I’m blinking through the sunlight glowing around the edges of the blackout blind, I sense that we’re not alone.
Squinting, I scan the room, and when I find a set of sea glass green eyes just a few feet away, I startle, my pulse taking off at a sprint.
“Atty,” I breathe out. “Shit. You scared me.” I keep my voice low and I don’t move, ensuring that I don’t jostle Ty.
Atty’s sitting in a chair close to the bed, a glower firmly fixed on his face. Charged, angry energy pulses between us as his focus shifts from me to Ty and back again.
“What the fuck, Sawyer? You didn’t think to call me? Tell me where you were or that Ty was hurt?”
He scrapes a hand through his copper hair and shakes his head.
“How did you—”
“I saw videos, Sawy. The guys showed me when I got to morning skate.” Hurt and betrayal simmer in his eyes, just beneath the sheen of moisture that threatens to turn into tears.
“I had to watch videos of my best friend collapsing in your arms while you sobbed. He ended up here, and you came with him, obviously, yet I don’t have a single missed call or text from either of you. What the fuck happened?”
Shit.
In all the commotion, I hadn’t even thought of Atty.
I also hadn’t considered there’d be videos or even thought past getting through each second of the last several hours.
“I skipped practice. Rushed here. I figured they wouldn’t just let me waltz back here since we aren’t blood related. So when I asked for Ty’s room, I said I was his brother. You know what the nurse told me, Sawyer?”
He sits straighter, his hands on his knees, gripping so tightly his knuckles are white.
Silence blooms between us, the air thick with roiling tension.
I swallow down the bile burning my esophagus, willing the tears in my eyes to hold steady.
If I cry now, I won’t be able to stop.
Once I let myself feel any of it, there’s no way I can focus on anything else.
With a sigh, he finally gives up on waiting for me to reply.
“She told me I could head on back. She mentioned that my brother’s wife was already back here with him, though, so to be quiet, in case you were sleeping.”
I close my eyes, my heart sinking.
“His wife, Sawy. His wife?”
I open my mouth to try to explain but snap it shut as soon as the vitriol in my brother’s tone registers.
“At first, I figured you did what I did. Lied so you could stay by his side. Why you didn’t go for sister, I wasn’t sure. Maybe so you could make medical decisions about his care? That had to be it, right?”
He shakes his head again, dropping forward and resting his elbows on his knees.
“Then I walk in here and find you in bed with him, and other clues start to click into place. The way he flies off the handle when someone on the team mentions you. All the nights he hasn’t come home.
It’s all starting to make sense. He’s been in a manic, elevated state for weeks.
Whatever this is—” He points one accusing finger at us.
“It’s not a game. At least not to him. And my gut says you didn’t just come up with this charade on a whim.
So do you have something you need to tell me, sis? ”
I sense him before he moves or makes a sound, and I hold my breath, concerned I’ve shifted somehow and am hurting him.
Ty stirs behind me, his fingers digging into the fleshy side of my hip. Like he needs the reassurance that I’m here, that it’s me, that he’s okay.
I hold my breath, not daring to look my brother in the eye, and silently will Tytus to drift back to sleep.
He’s dealing with enough already. This can wait.
“Mon ange?” he asks, groaning.
Atty huffs, the sweet nickname further confirming his suspicions.
“It’s okay,” I quietly assure Ty. “It’s just Atty. Go back to sleep.”
Several seconds pass before I look up and meet my twin’s gaze again.
“So are you married?” he lobs at me without preamble.
Ty grasps my hip again, anchoring me to him.
Instinctively, I cover his hand with mine, offering a reassuring squeeze in response.
We’re okay.
I’ve got this.
“We’re not.”
Atty narrows his eyes, searching for the lie. “But you’re together?”
I bite down hard on my cheek, weighing my words.
By not being up front with Atty, Ty and I have already inadvertently hurt him.
There’s no logical explanation for any of this.
How do I explain to my brother that his best friend blackmailed me, broke into my dorm, and forced me to come on his lap, all while referring to me as his wife…
and I… what? Played along? Went with it to see where it would go?
I actively participated, pushing the limits and redefining our connection with every encounter. I let myself play games with Ty. I let myself fall deeper with Mercer and Noah. I chased what felt good. I found three men who wanted to keep me, when no one had ever wanted more from me before.
As a result, the last two months have been the most selfish and destructive of my life.
I hurt everyone by creating this perfect storm in which the people I care about hurt each other.
I try to blink away tears while holding my brother’s gaze.
They fall anyway.
It was stupid to think I was ever in control. Or that I would get a happy ending with any of the men I’ve fallen for.
It was stupid of all three of them to fall for me.
I’m a poison. All I bring is hurt and pain.
“We’ve been together for a few weeks,” I finally reply, still not meeting my brother’s gaze. I leave it at that. Partly because I don’t want to lie to him anymore. But also because I don’t want to agitate Ty in his current state.
Atty rumbles out a humorless laugh, muttering something that sounds like “always the last to fucking know.” Angling forward, he glares again.
“What about the men out in the waiting room, Sawy? The two much older men, one of whom I believe is your boss? They’re sitting out there looking wrecked as hell, like they haven’t slept all night. What about them?”
I suck in a sharp breath.
Mercer and Noah are still here?
Why?
I texted Noah before I settled in last night, telling him that they should go home. That I didn’t want to see them and that I wasn’t going to leave Ty’s side.
I don’t want them here. I don’t want them anywhere near Ty.
As much as I want to protect the boy lying beside me, I also need to avoid any and all temptation. Because if they’re just down the hall, I could step out of this room and be enveloped in Noah’s arms in seconds. I could confront Mercer and force him to answer for the shit he pulled.
I can’t allow myself to see them. It’ll just make this harder.
The ache that settled in my chest late last night grows more painful.
“They’re out there now? You’re sure?”
Ty emits a low grunt, his hand trailing from my hip to back. He drags his knuckles along my spine, then repeats the motion in the opposite direction.
Defensiveness flares to life inside me, every instinct telling me he’s going to turn up the possessiveness at the mention of the two other men.
Instead, he grunts, “Breathe,” as he keeps up his ministrations. The softness of the command surprises me, but it’s also exactly what I needed.
I press out a ragged exhale.
Chin lifted, Atty zeroes in on me again. “They were out there ten minutes ago. They look like they’ve been here all night.”
Tears cloud my vision. Emotion clogs my throat. I don’t want to see them. I can’t. I don’t want an explanation or to give anyone the opportunity to defend their actions.
It may be selfish. It may be immature.
But I don’t want to have to face the fallout of this toxic mess I’ve made.
I’ve done enough damage.
I’ve caused enough pain.
Once I’ve ensured Ty’s okay, I’ll remove myself completely.
I give my head a firm shake. “Can you go out there and tell them to leave? Please?”
He glares at me, a disbelieving scoff escaping him.
“Fine,” he eventually concedes, standing. “But tell your husband he and I need to have words as soon as he’s awake and can sit up.”