Chapter Sixty Tyler
Chapter Sixty
TYLER
FOLLOWING THE GRAVEL path bordering the house, I lift my chin in greeting to the beauty who spots me through her kitchen window.
Her own expression lighting up with a smile, which quickly fades in afterthought before she narrows her eyes.
My answering smile amping up because I know I’ve got a nasty tongue-lashing coming—probably in the very near future.
Box in hand, I follow the sound of Led Zeppelin’s “Kashmir,” which blares from the shed.
Entering, I stalk past a primed classic, the hood propped.
As I approach, his boots shift into view, as does he, still beneath the hood, a second before his head pops up.
His spine snapping straight as he registers his incoming company.
Hazel eyes lighting up a second before I toss the box at his chest and deliver the nastiest right hook I can summon.
Upon that delivery, he goes flying, back smacking against the wall of his shed before he lands sideways on the ground.
I stalk toward him as he struggles to gain his bearings.
Palming the dirt and shifting himself to sit as I slowly lower before him until we’re face-to-face.
Watching as his watering eyes fix on the box lying close to the tip of my boot before he retrieves it.
Recognition rippling across his features as his jaw starts to redden.
“Berry Fruit Roll-Ups,” he rasps out, staring at the box, eyes filling with nostalgia as he holds the price paid to join his club when I was just a kid.
Decades of memories and history bouncing between our raw chests as agony starts to twist his features.
Hazel eyes flooding as they slowly lift to meet mine before a guttural apology bursts from his lips. “I’m s-sorry!”
Cries begin to pour out of him as he stacks his palms on his head—a gesture I know all too well—as his visceral pain fuels mine.
The feel of it releasing my own sting as it glides down my jaw.
His regret pouring from him as his eyes search me desperately and he reads me before launching himself at me.
I crash onto my ass as he grips me so tightly to him, I can barely manage to draw breath.
“I’m so fucking sorry, brother,” he croaks, gripping me impossibly tighter.
“I was s-so fucking scared”—his words come out in a pained rush—“I didn’t know what else to do, I didn’t know how to help you—” He cracks wide open, his voice so raw, so gutted that the rest of my anger leaves me.
Even as the hurt remains. It’s then I know this could never break us.
Nothing really ever could. The family we found within one another strong enough to withstand damn near anything.
The bond we forged as boys having outlasted and overshadowed any mistake we’ve ever made as men.
A reason to fight, to protect, to breathe.
My love for my brothers unending and unconditional—because it has to be, in order to endure.
As he continues to stutter out his words, my need to protect him outweighs my need for anything else.
“Hey man, I know you didn’t do it to hurt me,” I utter, gripping him back just as tightly. “I know, Sean. And if I didn’t, the three thousand texts you sent said plenty.”
“I’ve missed you,” he wheezes, “I can’t even explain how fucking h-hard that was. How h-hard it’s b-been, I can’t—”
“You don’t have to. I’m pretty sure your wife is about to do that for you before she kicks my ass.”
My joke does nothing to ease his cries as he keeps me gripped to him for long minutes, letting me know precisely how hard it’s been for him.
“It’s all right, brother,” I assure him, feeling his emanating pain as much as I did the day he clipped me.
His heart far too golden for any true maliciousness to be felt in any of his actions.
It was just as he declared it that day—an act of love.
An act in hopes of saving his brother from himself.
“It was the right call, Sean, as much as it pains me to fucking admit it. And it worked, brother. It’s okay, man.”
He sniffs, his face splotched as he pulls away. “Jesus … fuck.” His red-rimmed eyes roam over me in search. “Can you really forgive me?”
“I’m here, aren’t I? And someday, not today, but someday I might thank you for it.”
He wipes the blood trickling from his lip with his thumb as I stand and help him to his feet. Once steady, he cups his jaw, as if the pain is just now hitting him.
“Fuck, I’m going to feel this shit for a month.”
“That was earned for one reason alone, and you know what it is, but allow me to give you some clarity—don’t you ever fuck with my relationship with my kid again. That’s not forgivable. Understood?”
He nods. “Never, again, I swear. I regret it, but I—” He shakes his head and scours me, tears steadily pouring from his eyes. I palm his shoulder as he slaps a hand on my chest, face still twisting with what he can’t speak.
“It’s okay, man, really. I know you did it to help me, and I needed that wake-up call. It was brutal—fuck, was it brutal—but necessary. I can’t even fucking begin to explain how far in I went. I’m still working to get myself the rest of the way out of it.”
After a few weighted seconds of searching himself, he jerks me into him again, and I can feel relief in him when he pulls away. His signature smile finally makes an appearance as he scours me. “You look good—really fucking good.”
“Yeah, well, a six-month vacation from you will do that for a guy,” I joke. “I should probably let Tessa in on that trade secret.”
“Please don’t,” he utters, wiping the remaining blood trickling from his lip with a shop towel as he looks me over. “Seriously, man, tell me everything. How are the babies?”
“You know how they are,” I mutter dryly. “They’re thriving.”
“They’re so fucking cute. Are you”—he glances down—“are you going to let me meet them?”
“If you can put down the smokes long enough.”
“I can’t wait. I hate watching your life from afar. Jesus, man, you fucking moved to Italy?”
“For now.”
“Are you with her?”
“You know that too,” I utter.
“We don’t know enough, you made us pull back too far, so we can’t see much.”
“Well, that’s called privacy. Maybe you’ve heard of it?”
He gives me a sheepish grin.
“But yeah, we’re together, and it’s fucking—” I shake my head, unable to help my smile. “It’s real.”
“That makes me so happy,” he gives genuinely. “I knew it.”
“Yeah, yeah, you all did. Too bad I almost self-destructed in realizing it.”
“That’s because you pushed yourself too hard—”
I wave my hand. “Like I said, I’m aware and still doing the work, daily, but there’s no need to rehash.”
“Still keeping everything to your chest?”
“No,” I state. “I have a partner now,” I admit, the words still sounding surreal. “And she’s becoming the new keeper of my secrets. Truth is, we needed the calm of the past three months.”
Images start to flit in of my most recent memories.
The four of us in her king bed, playing and eating all day until we passed out.
My eyes finding hers when we woke the next morning.
Our lips meeting as we kissed, and kissed, and kissed until Alexander opened his eyes and demanded his own.
Our late dinners together after we put the kids down.
Making love on a blanket under the stars a few nights ago.
The feel of her surrounding me hours later, when I woke up covered in sweat and she’d stroked my skin until I was ready to talk it out.
Keeping my promise to her, no matter how badly I wanted to go back to bad habits—refusing to for the sake of her and our babies, never wanting to dive so far into my head again that I lose myself.
The fog is still present, though it clears more and more every day.
But it’s the image of the morning I left that’s sealed over my heart.
Larissa holding both twins in her lap, using Alexander’s hand to wave goodbye after our lips parted.
“Say bye-bye, Daddy. Hurry up and come back.”
“You’re happy,” he surmises of the look in my eyes, bringing me back to him.
“It’s a different world there.” I glance around his shed, realizing just how different his world seems from mine, before eyeing the car. “What you got here?”
“My secret for now,” Sean states. “Saw Carter at the grocery store a few days ago. He looks good. Said your mom is keeping him busy. You been by there yet?”
“Not yet. I’m about to drop off tickets for Mom for her birthday. It’s my next stop.”
He nods. “You talked to T?”
“I had no choice,” I utter. “The son of a bitch was sitting on my plane when I boarded on the way here. It was either fly commercial or deal. The start of our conversation pretty much like this one. My knuckles are stinging like a bitch,” I chuckle.
“Luckily for him, Cecelia was there. She’s gotten way too damn good at running interference. ”
“Yeah, she has,” he laughs. “So, you two okay?”
“We will be,” I admit. “And someday I might apologize for the shit I put you all through. But not today.”
He nods. “So? You going to make me ask, considering you’ve already paid?”
“Ask what?” I cross my arms, grinning.
“Really, man? You’re really going to make me ask?” He shakes his head.
“Fuck yes, I am.”
“We could really use you back, man.”
“I don’t think those are the words.”
“Fucking serious?” His neck reddens as he opens his mouth, and I spare him.
“Join your club? I’ll think about it.” Ruffling his hair, I stalk off.
“Wait … that’s it? I got five minutes!”
“Ten,” I counter. “And I’m enjoying my life a little more now that I’m not wiping all your asses,” I chuckle. “So take a number.”
“You’re serious … this was a fly through?” He gapes at me as I glance back. “It’s been months!”
“You’ve got access to a plane,” I state, turning and stalking down the driveway.
“Is that an invitation?” he calls.
“Maybe.”
“Tyler, damn it, hang for ten more minutes. Come on.”
“Hell no, have you seen my girl?”