27. Chapter 26
Chapter 26
Layne
“I’m pretty sure I had a face-off with Muhammad Ali last night.”
Blake’s chuckle trickled through the phone. “Who won?”
“Definitely not me.” Lying on my back, I stared through my sunglasses at the cloudless noon sky. I was still sore, but nothing compared to the brutal pain last night. I’d even had the strength to climb the roof of the small pergola at the pier stretching into the turquoise ocean. That’s where I was sprawled, soaking in the warmth of the sun, the sound of waves lapping the white sand in the background. Keaton’s personal cove was a small paradise sheltered by a rock wall farther out in the water and framed with bushes and palm trees.
“What happened?” Blake asked. Her Aussie accent soothed me as always.
I pursed my lips. “Keaton threw a party without warning. Total sensory overload for me, so I ended up in a lot of pain.”
Something akin to a growl came from the other end.
“But he must have had a revelation or something,” I rushed on. “When he realized I wasn’t doing well, he kicked everyone out. I think he felt guilty.”
“He better. You should come live with me. I’d somehow make ends meet.”
I smiled. “I appreciate that, but God wants me here. I’m sure of it.”
“He really does, doesn’t He?”
“Yeah.” A sigh escaped me. “I don’t know what for, though. Keaton is so deeply rooted in the secular world. Yesterday he knocked a guy out cold for touching me. I don’t even wanna know what he did once I wasn’t on scene anymore.”
Overhead, a plane made its way toward the mainland, leaving contrails in its wake. I closed my eyes, seeing Keaton’s furious expression before me. His aggressiveness—the way his eyes had blazed and his violent moves—had jarred me.
And made me feel safe and taken care of. At least the delusional part of me. The rational part knew better.
“Sounds like he’s protective,” Blake broke into my thoughts.
“Is he, though?” I asked the question plaguing me since last night. “Is he protective or did he simply react like that to make a territorial statement? He married me for image, Blake. He sees me as part of his status, nothing more.”
“Maybe. Or maybe he actually cares about you.”
“In what universe?”
Nothing came from the other end for a while, then Blake finally broke the silence. “If God told you to marry Keaton, He has a good reason, Layne. Give Him time to work on the man. Deep change like that doesn’t happen overnight.”
“Yeah . . .” She had a point, and I had to keep reminding myself that I served God, not myself. Even if Keaton never started caring about me, I still had to stick around if that was what God wanted. “I think the Lord also had a good reason why He let Rolli’s pickup break down.”
Blake snickered. “I’m not mad it happened. I almost didn’t want the tow service to arrive because our conversation was so . . . deep. We connected on a whole new level.”
A grin broke out on my face. “I’m so happy things are going well for the two of you. I’ll keep praying.”
“Thank you, Bean.” Voices grew louder in the background. “Okay, I gotta go. The students are here. Love you.”
“Love you, too, honey.”
After hanging up, I dropped my phone on the roof and closed my eyes again. Relished the sun kissing my skin. Lord, You know Keaton’s heart better than anyone. Clean it, heal it, and fill it with Your love until it overflows and he can be a light for other people.
“Layne, get down from there!”
Opening my eyes, I turned.
Keaton came charging down the pier like a bull. “Now!”
“Why?” His furious expression made me laugh. “Are you scared I’ll fall?”
The curse he spat was so ugly it made me wince. “I’m serious, Layne!”
“Geez, all right, on my way,” I mumbled and scooted to the edge, dangling my legs. “Can you please get out of the way? I’m gonna jump.”
“Are you crazy? You’re definitely not jumping.”
I stared at him. What was wrong with this guy?
“Move it!”
“Okay, okay.” Rolling my eyes, I turned and started climbing down until I felt his hands on my hips. I gritted my teeth. Why did he treat me like a kid? As if I couldn’t climb down myself. I was a former pro climber, for Pete’s sake.
But I kept my mouth shut and let him help me.
“If I ever see you up there again, I’ll kick you out of the house.” His eyes practically impaled me. Flaring his nostrils, he spun and stomped back across the pier to the house.
Okay, that’s enough. “What’s your problem?” I almost had to run to keep up with him. “I can take care of myself, you know.”
He had the nerve to just keep marching.
“Keaton!” I grabbed his arm.
He stopped so abruptly that I slammed into him. His glare made me stagger back, my heart thudding against my ribs.
This time, when he turned and walked on, I let him go. I followed him at a distance to the house where he stopped in the kitchen with his back to me, hands white-knuckling the bar.
When I slipped past him, he caught my shoulder. “I have to show you something.” His voice was raw, and something tormented flickered in his eyes.
“Okay?”
He pointed at the ceiling.
I gaped at him for a moment, then led the way. As I climbed the stairs, I kept looking over my shoulder. Keaton was gripping the railing, beads of sweat forming on his brow. Upstairs, he headed down the hall and stopped in front of the room. The room. The one that was always locked. The one he’d told me to stay away from.
His hands shook when he pulled a chain from under his white dress shirt and over his head. A key dangled from it. He missed the lock several times as he tried to slip the key in.
It felt like an eternity until he finally succeeded. The almost unbearable tension made my heart flutter, my stomach churn. I would finally find out what he was hiding in the forbidden room.
Keaton pulled the key back out and pushed the door open. I’d expected anything except what lay behind it.
A child’s room. That of a boy, if the navy linens on the single bed, the baseball posters, and the stuffed animals were any indication. It was tidy and clean, the bed neatly made.
Entering, I took it all in. “What is this?” I whispered into the room. When Keaton didn’t answer, I turned to him.
He stood in the doorway, his gaze void, as if he were in another universe.
“Keaton?” I went over to him and grasped his hand.
His gaze snapped to me. Clearing his throat, he entered. “This is Monroe’s room.”
The thought that had hit me earlier struck again. Had he had a son? What’d happened to him? “Who is Monroe?”
Keaton sank down on the edge of the bed. “My little brother. Wentworth’s twin. Died when he was five.”
“That’s . . . I’m so sorry.”
Keaton picked up a picture from the nightstand. Gripped the frame.
Joining him on the bed, I snagged a glance. It showed two boys clad in baseball gear, the older clearly Keaton with that rakish grin and mischief in his blue eyes. The younger had a flat nose bridge and slanted eyes, typical symptoms of Down syndrome. His smile was so bright that I felt the corners of my own mouth lift.
“He looks like sunshine,” I said.
“He was.” A muscle in Keaton’s jaw flexed as he set the picture back on the nightstand.
“What happened?”
He heaved a sigh. “Um . . .” Scratched his brow with his thumb. “My parents’ home has a gazebo right next to the pool . . . I loved climbing up, even though Regina and Aaron repeatedly told me not to. Monroe kept begging me to take him up with me. I usually said no, but not on that day.”
My stomach clenched, knowing what was about to come. I pulled up my legs and hugged them, trying to find even the slightest bit of comfort to soften the blow of this tragic story.
“It happened in a blink of an eye. He fell off the eight-foot roof onto the stone slab framing the pool. I ran to one of our housekeepers, who called 9-1-1. Monroe was rushed to the hospital. Two days later, he passed.” Keaton sniffed, his voice void of any emotion. “My parents didn’t lecture me. Didn’t talk to me at all. Regina gave me the silent treatment while Aaron withdrew completely. The only time they acknowledged me was when I achieved something big.”
Pressing my mouth to my knees, I scrambled for something to say. Was this why Keaton was so bent on taking over Lincoln Grady Distillery? Not so much for power or money, but because he craved his parents’ approval?
I let go of my legs and carefully wrapped an arm around his shoulders. “It breaks my heart that you had to go through this.”
“It broke mine, too. He was my best friend.” Keaton hung his head. A tear dropped onto his slacks.
“Oh, Keaton.” I pulled him into me, and he buried his face in my neck.
His arms came around me and he clung to me, his shoulders shaking while his tears dusted my skin. He didn’t make a single sound.
“Father, I lift Keaton up to You right now. Hold him. Let him feel Your peace and comfort. In Jesus’s name, Amen.”
This was all I had. My heart twisted so painfully that I couldn’t think of anything else to pray. But God understood even the shortest prayers.
I rubbed Keaton’s strong back as I continued to hold him. What I saw here, his vulnerability, wasn’t something he showed anyone—I was sure of it.
Soft tingling spread through my body. Just how deep did his trust in me run that he shared his painful memories? That he didn’t feel the need to put up a tough act?
Cursing, he lifted his head. His eyes were bloodshot, his hair a mess. “Mental health services aren’t listed in the contract.”
I chuckled. “Listening is part of the wife’s job.”
“In that case, I got more stories. You married a man with a rotten soul.”
“Good thing I’m the daughter of a God Who restores souls like that.”
Keaton gave me a sad smile. “I’m too far gone, Layne.”
“Nobody’s too far gone. Not for Him.” And that’s why I’d keep praying for Keaton until my last breath. I wanted nothing more than him finding salvation.
“Don’t know about that.” He rose. “Gotta get back to work.”
This seemed to be his go-to sentence when he didn’t want to talk, which I respected.
I followed him out the door. “About yesterday . . . The reason I told you to leave me alone had nothing to do with you. Sometimes I’m in so much pain that I can’t have anyone touch me. Even having someone in the same room hurts. I can’t explain it.”
His electric blue eyes took me in. “That’s . . . messed up. You got painkillers?”
“They don’t really help.” I shrugged. “Thank God it usually doesn’t last too long. Thirty minutes. An hour. I just stick it out.”
Keaton locked the door, then turned back to me. “How are you feeling now?”
“Okay.”
“Layne,” he growled. “How are you really feeling?”
I chuckled. “My muscles burn. Standing is extremely exhaus—”
Keaton hooked his arm under my legs and swooped me up. The whole time while carrying me to my room, his gaze never left mine. There, he gently lowered me on my bed and tucked me in. Then he leaned in.
Holding my breath, I waited for that kiss I wanted really bad right now. My stomach clenched when he pressed his lips to my forehead instead.
“Get some rest,” he whispered. “I’ll try to make it home early tonight.”
When he rose, I grabbed his hand. “Is it possible that you’re scared of heights?”
“Abysmally.” He gave me a wry smile. Lord, help me, he was such a handsome man.
“Because of what happened with Monroe?”
“Yeah. Tried everything, but can’t shake it.”
“What about flying? How did you even make it to Zürich?”
“Diazepam and keeping the blinds down helps.”
I chewed on my bottom lip. “I don’t want you having to come upstairs because of me. It has to be terrifying for you.”
“It is, but it’s worth it.” He winked at me. “See you later, wifey.” With that, he slipped out of my room.
I rolled over and looked out the window. He’d said he didn’t want my heart, but if he kept acting like that, he’d soon have all of it.
Is this smart, Jesus? I know he’s hiding something from me.
That brick that had been thrown through the living room window. The fire at the gala, which definitely hadn’t been an accident.
Yes, Keaton was definitely still hiding something.
The question was how much danger he was really in.