Chapter 48
Kylian
Forget the god-forsaken beach and the sand that’s impossible to leave behind when it’s time to leave; give me a cabin built into the side of a snow-crested mountain any day.
The visible puffs of our exhalations create a cloud of hazy carbon dioxide that drifts over the ledge of the porch as it evaporates into the atmosphere.
Jo sits up and reaches toward the planks of the heated deck. I wrap one arm around her legs to hold her steady as the hammock sways gently.
She takes a sip of her hot toddy—courtesy of Mrs. Lansbury, who’s been at the cabin since yesterday when we finalized our evacuation plans—then sets it on the ground, lies back against my arm, and sighs.
“You good, Mama?” Kendrick asks from the other end of the deck.
He’s helping Jade and Emilia do their school assignments for the week. Standing between them, he looks on and offers corrections as needed. Except he’s messed up two equations so far. Maybe he’s trying to make it appear as if a fourth-grader really did complete the assignment.
“Better than good,” our girl replies. She stretches. Leans over the edge again. Makes the fabric of her thin black leggings pull tight around her ass as she bends to take another sip of her drink.
I can’t see her face, but based on the hungry look Kendrick’s sporting, I would guess she’s eye-fucking him right back.
One of the twins asks a question, and Kendrick turns away, breaking their spell.
Jo relaxes back into the hammock between us.
“I can see why you love it here,” she murmurs to Nicky as she snuggles closer.
With a relaxed hum, he smooths one hand down her body so his tattooed knuckles rest between her thighs.
Theoretically, the colder air should worsen his arthritic pain.
But this cabin is built low enough into the side of the Blue Ridge Mountain Range that the barometric pressure is reduced.
Decker has it outfitted with a state-of-the-art dehumidification system, and all the decks and porches feature propane heaters to ward off the cold.
I asked him for a spoon check when we arrived; Decker usually does it, but Decker’s not part of us anymore, so I’ve stepped up in regard to his health and Kendrick’s. I’ve also been keeping watch over Jo’s since the urinary tract infection incident.
Nicky insisted he was on cloud nine, which I surmise to mean he’s in good shape, mentally and physically. No telling what the barometric pressure is on cloud nine, but he’s better than he was, and that makes Jo happy. If Jo is happy, then I’m satisfied.
I sit up and sip my own drink. When I settle, this time on my side, I brush a kiss to the soft skin of Jo’s neck and tease one hand along the elastic of her waistband.
“It feels really good to all be together again,” she whispers.
As if that’s some sort of secret.
She’s right.
We’ve all been hurting. Reeling. Coping in our own ways.
All without the support of one another. It’s obvious each of us is carrying a heavy weight, yet I don’t want to burden Jo or either of the guys with my concerns.
If that’s the case, then it’s safe to assume they each have a similar mindset.
The complexity of our situation and how deeply our day-to-day lives are intertwined with Decker’s only make the emotional pain more acute.
A simple solution to getting off the isle with our girl—all three of us—doesn’t exist. So we stayed. We took turns. We avoided Decker. Now we’ve started making plans for what’s next.
“I know, baby. We’re working on an arrangement that will allow us to be together permanently,” I promise, kissing the warmth below her ear. “I’m sorry it’s taking so long.”
“Kyl.” She grasps my hand. On the other side, she’s already holding Nicky’s. “It’s okay. None of us has had time to formulate a plan. We were all blindsided.”
That we were.
“Hey. I have an idea. Worst-case scenario, you and I can move back in with our parents,” Nicky says. “K and Joey can take turns going between our houses. I’ve slept on that zero-gravity moon chair you used to have in your room. It’s pretty comfortable, honestly.”
Jo snorts. Damn, is she awful at keeping secrets and maintaining her composure.
“What’s so funny?” Nicky asks, propping himself up with an elbow and eyeing her, then me.
She peers over at me, eyebrows raised. I shrug in response. If she wants to share, then I won’t stop her.
With another snort, she turns her head to Nicky. “Sleep isn’t the only thing that beanbag chair is good for.”
Frowning, Nicky sits up a little higher. “Wait. What am I missing?”
Jo laughs again. She can’t stop laughing. She’s losing it, and now we have Kendrick’s attention, too.
“Don’t worry about it, Emo Boy.” She tries to brush it off, but at the same time, she sits up and clutches her stomach, garnering even more scrutiny from our audience.
“Wait a minute.” Nicky curls up fully and points an accusing finger at us.
He keeps his voice low, but it’s cutting, nonetheless.
“Did I miss out on beanbag sex? Seriously?” He tugs on Jo’s hand.
“When? Was it when your parents had you over for dinner a few weeks ago? Your mom invited me, but I was in too much pain!”
Jo’s doubled over now. I rest a hand on her shoulder to keep her from rolling forward off the hammock.
“Sorry, pal,” I offer with a shrug.
Nicky flops back, groaning. “I fucking hate RA.”
He didn’t keep his voice down that time.
“Nicky said a bad word!” one of the twins shouts from the table.
“That he did,” Kendrick grits out, his jaw locked tight. “Maybe Nicky wants to come over here and help with this long division to make up for it.”
Huffing, Locke lifts up on his elbows so he can see K and the girls. “Dude. I’m a philosophy major. I didn’t understand old math, let alone new math.” With that, he reaches over a still-cackling Jo and shoves my shoulder. “I bet Daddy Genius here could help you.”
When Jo dissolves into a fresh round of giggles, he smirks. The twins are both turned our way and wearing perplexed frowns that make them look just like their older brother.
“Kylian is not anyone’s dad!” Emilia sasses.
Jo, now laughing so hard she’s crying, slinks off the hammock and onto her knees. The lightness and playfulness emanating from her is contagious. Her laugh is a soothing melody, a perfectly curated balm.
When she’s finally caught her breath, I stand and offer her a hand. Her shoulders are still shaking as she accepts my help, and there’s a mischievous glint in her eye.
But as soon as she’s fully upright, the laughing stops.
As if the joy has been sapped from her body.
As if the world has been shrouded in darkness.
She’s so silent and still it’s eerie. Telling.
Though I suspect what I’ll find, I glance over my shoulder to confirm.
There he fucking is. The man of the hour. The man of all the hours, until he destroyed the most perfect, beautiful human I’ve ever known and left the rest of us to make sense of the pieces he scattered as he broke her.
At the door, Decker hovers. He knows he’s not supposed to be here. He’s got one foot on the deck, one foot still in the house.
He knows better. Yet there he fucking is.
I agreed to come to the cabin because the storm evac plan we have in place is solid and there was no time to create another I could guarantee was as safe. I agreed so long as he vowed to stay out of sight and out of our way.
It’s evident that plan is shot to hell.
He clears his throat. The sound grates against the silence that’s fallen over the group.
“Sorry,” he offers evenly.
As if being in her presence for the first time in weeks doesn’t affect him. He’s a liar. A liar and a thief.
“I didn’t realize…” He runs a hand through his hair and looks over his shoulder, into the house. When he turns back, he regards me. “I’m just heading out for a hike.”
The sound of a chair scraping against the deck breaks the silence that’s enveloped us once again. At the table, one of Kendrick’s sisters shifts in her seat. “Don’t forget your bear spray, Uncle Ducky.”
Innocent Jade.
She’s unaware that most of us here wouldn’t mind if he forgot his bear spray. Not to cause fatality, of course. A mauling resulting in severe injury would suffice.
I give him a second.
Then two.
At the three count, I’m releasing Jo, glaring daggers, and striding toward the door.
“Whoa.” Kendrick steps in front of me, cutting me off a few feet from where Decker stands.
I try to push past him, but the man’s massive, and he anticipates my sidestep.
“Whoa. Whoa. Whoa. Chill, brother. We’re going to have to start calling you Kyller if you go guard dog on his ass every time he makes an appearance.”
Heart pounding and fury running through me, I cross my arms over my chest. “We had an agreement,” I remind Decker. “We would all come here like usual. You could see for yourself that we’re safe. In exchange, you agreed to make yourself scarce.”
He raises both hands in surrender.
But then his eyes flit over my shoulder—considering, searching.
“Don’t look at her,” I snap.
Because this is the exact moment I was determined to avoid. The one where she’s forced to face the man who broke her heart.
The fucker encroached on our first lighthearted moment in weeks, and he’s audacious enough to look at her and remind himself of what he pushed away.
No one is getting out of this unscathed.
Though I hoped we could get through this weekend without creating fresh wounds.
Apparently, it was too much to wish for.
I struggle against Kendrick’s hold, fully prepared to get up in Decker’s face if he needs the proximity of my fury to communicate the severity of his transgressions.
“I’m going,” he relents, shifting back into the house and out of sight.
Kendrick doesn’t back away from me as I crane my neck and watch him go, fighting down the urge to charge after him and lock the front door once he’s gone.