36. Chapter 35
Chapter 35
Layne
“What are we doing here?” I asked, staring up at the jungle-covered mountain.
We stood at the base of a trail, where Keaton had parked his Ram 1500 TRX next to a couple of other early hikers’ vehicles. A crisp breeze rustled the leaves of the trees around us, birds singing their praise to God.
“I can’t hike, Keaton. You know that.” Just the thought of climbing up that thing made me nauseous.
“You’re not going to.” He turned his back to me and crouched slightly. “Hop on.”
I gaped at him. “Excuse me, hop what?” This was a joke, right?
“As soon as you feel symptoms come on, we’ll turn around. C’mon now. I didn’t drive thirty minutes just to go back home.”
Guess he was right. Scrunching my nose, I grabbed his shoulders. “Ready?”
“Since yesterday.”
With a quiet laugh, I jumped. Keaton caught me effortlessly and slung his arms under my legs, adjusting me like a backpack. I swallowed. It would’ve been a lie to say that I didn’t enjoy the feeling of his hard muscles against my torso.
And just like that, we hit the dirt path. Every step Keaton took reverberated through my body, and I loosely linked my arms in front of him so I wouldn’t fall back. I took another glance at the mountain before a canopy of leaves obstructed our view. The man was crazy for carrying me up there, but I was convinced he could do it.
After just a few minutes of climbing, Keaton’s breathing grew heavier, and I could feel the sweat on his arms against my thighs where my shorts had ridden up. Still, his steps stayed steady, his pace never slowing.
My eyes burned, and I closed them. He’s doing this for me, Jesus. Only for me. The thought warmed and twisted my heart at the same time. Keaton knew how much being in nature meant to me, and he made it happen that I could spend some time outside.
“You okay back there?”
I ripped my eyes open. Had I made a sound? Sniffled?
“Can you please lean forward again? More comfortable when your weight is above me and not behind me.”
“Oh, sorry.” I shifted, resting my cheek against the back of his head. “And yes, I’m okay.” Except that my voice sounded treacherously hoarse. Thank God Keaton didn’t address it.
The few people who passed us gave us either strange or amused looks. Keaton greeted them with that easy charm of his.
“Can I hop on next?” A bulky guy our age asked with a wide grin as we overtook him.
“Depends on your insurance,” Keaton joked, and I had to laugh. His laid-back manner with strangers never ceased to impress me.
As we gained altitude, I snagged glances of the ocean whenever gaps in the jungle allowed me to. The waters close to shore were a brilliant turquoise that gradually darkened into a deep navy farther out. It was absolutely breathtaking. The smell of sun, dirt, and greenery hung in the air. And Keaton’s scent. His deodorant, or whatever it was, mixed with sweat. That’s how he always smelled when he came into the kitchen in the morning after his workout. I had come to love it.
“You need a break?” he asked after twenty minutes. “There’s a hidden lookout.”
“Yes, please.”
“All right.” He steered into the jungle, and after a while, we ended up on a small cliff out in the open. Keaton stopped and squatted, so I could climb off his back.
Feet planted firmly on the rock, I inched to the edge and glanced down. Oh man, this wall looked sick. I wished I could climb it down and up again.
“Can you please not do that?”
I turned to Keaton, who was still standing all the way at the back of the rock. “Do what?”
“Go so close to the abyss. That’s a fifty-foot drop.”
Right, his fear of heights. “Sorry.” I rejoined him and settled on the rocky surface in the shade. My muscles protested as they always did when given a break, then relaxed. Piggybacking was more exhausting than I’d expected, even though I wasn’t the one doing the lifting.
“Here, drink.” Keaton passed me the black Hydro Flask he’d been carrying the entire time.
“Thanks.” The cool water soothed my parched throat.
“How are you feeling?” Standing over me, Keaton lifted the hem of his tank top and wiped his face with it.
I tried not to stare at his abs and Adonis belt, but man . . .
Lowering the Hydro Flask, I forced myself to look away. You can’t stare like that, Layne. Or was it okay because he was my husband? But he isn’t, remember?
Argh.
“Layne?” Keaton frowned down at me. “You in pain?”
“No, I’m good.” Hopefully the smile I gave him was reassuring enough. At least I wasn’t in any physical pain. But emotionally . . . The day I’d have to let him go would kill me.
He sat down next to me, legs extended and hands propped behind him. “You should lie down.” He patted his thigh. “C’mon.”
I passed him the water bottle, then stretched out on my back, my head cushioned on his leg. The blue sky arched overhead, contrasted by the juicy green of tree tops.
Keaton leaned into my field of vision. His sweaty hair hung into his forehead, letting my fingers twitch with the desire to brush it away. “Why so quiet? Swallowed that sharp tongue of yours?”
“Just thinking about what will happen once we go separate ways.”
“You’ll have your own business going and enough money to keep you afloat. Your art will sell like crazy.”
“Yeah.” I didn’t care about being independent anymore. I wanted Keaton.
“Tell me about climbing,” he said, oblivious to my inner turmoil. “Ever had an accident?”
“Mm-hmm. One time I dropped from thirty feet while free climbing. Broke my left leg.” I pointed at the scar where I’d had surgery at my shin.
Keaton clicked his tongue. “Just hearing that makes me wanna barf. Bet it was painful.”
“Very. Tripp was with me. Thank God he’s always prepared and had his IFAK—individual first aid kit—including fentanyl with him. We were in the middle of nowhere in Switzerland, surrounded by forest and rocky terrain. He had to carry me six miles until we reached a pasture where we had cell service and a helo could pick us up.”
“Tripp’s a good guy. Wentworth would’ve left me to the wolves.”
I laughed. “Bull. It was drilled into him to never leave his comrades.”
“Doubt he sees me as his comrade.”
“You know, I think he cares more about you than you think.”
Keaton heaved a sigh. “I know, I know. He’s a good kid.”
“Was school easy or hard for you?” I asked at the cue “kid.”
“So easy that I was bored out of my mind.”
“I’m not surprised you had good grades. You’re like a genius or something.”
“Apparently not genius enough,” he muttered.
I caught my lower lip between my teeth. “What do you mean?”
A gush of wind rustled the leaves of the trees behind us. Overhead, a hawk surfed the air.
“My parents.” Keaton stared at something in the distance, maybe the ocean. “No matter what I do, it’s not enough. They’ll always see me as the screwup who killed his disabled brother.”
The pain in his voice sliced into my soul like a knife. I reached up and caught his chin to tilt his head toward me. Waited until his hard gaze collided with mine. “You’re not a screwup, Keaton. Look how much you’ve achieved.”
His jaw flexed beneath my fingers. “Yeah, well, it’s not enough. They always praised whatever Tatum did. His skiing and sailing skills, his good grades. Hardly ever batted an eye at my achievements. Now they want him to be CEO, but I’ll prove that nobody can run LGD better than I do.” The intensity in his eyes rivaled the one in his tone.
“You’re not out for money or power, are you? It’s about the approval of your parents.”
Keaton looked away, and I dropped my hand because reaching up was getting exhausting. He said nothing for a long moment, but I was sure there was a lot going on in his mind.
“There’s this kid, Alfie,” he finally began, his gaze coming back to me. “Actually, he’s a teenager now. Fifteen. Has Down syndrome and lives in a group home because his parents didn’t want him. I hang out with him three times a week. Usually play baseball.” Keaton ran a hand through his sweaty hair. “The home he and his peers used to live in was a dump, so I donated them a new one and made sure they had access to all the medical treatments. Some needed heart surgery and couldn’t afford it.”
“That’s amazing, Keaton.” My chest about burst with warmth. He was an incredible man.
“It’s not enough.” He flared his nostrils. “There are so many more kids on the mainland who need help. Once I’m the owner of LGD, I’ll start the Monroe Foundation and make sure that regular donations are made to homes like Alfie’s and continue to do so once I’m gone. I want to make it an integral part of Lincoln Grady Distillery.”
Seriously, how many people knew this man had a heart of gold? “Why don’t you share this in public?”
“Because it’s none of their business.”
“But they think you’re a selfish snob.”
“People think about you what they want, not what’s actually true. Let them.”
I chewed on his words for a moment. “There’s a Bible verse that says that the fear of man is a snare. I guess worrying what people might say about us could count as fear of man.”
“Wise and very true words.”
A ringing phone broke into our conversation.
Keaton stirred, then brought his cell up to his ear. “Bancroft, what’s up?” His brows lowered as he listened. “Yeah, I’ll meet you there in an hour.” He hung up and pocketed his cell.
I sat up. “What’s going on?”
“Just a buddy who wants to meet up. You ready to go home?”
There it was again. He was hiding something. Bet this was about the Elysium blowing up.
“I want you to tell me what’s going on. I know someone is after you, I’m not stupid.”
For a long moment, Keaton just looked at me. Then he sniffed. “You’re right, someone has me in their crosshairs.”
My heart stumbled. For some reason I hadn’t expected him to admit it. “What? Who? Why?”
“The Psycho doesn’t want me to become CEO.”
“Psycho?”
“Could be Ian, the guy who—” A muscle in his jaw popped. “The guy who assaulted you at the party. Could be someone from my family, or LGD. Anybody for any reason, really.”
I opened my mouth. Closed it again. So much made sense now. The brick, the fire at the gala, the accident that wasn’t one . . .
“I’m pretty sure the threats are empty, but after my Elysium blowing up I’m thinking it might be better if I stepped down.” Keaton’s expression darkened. “I don’t want you to get hurt.”
“What? No! Then you’ll lose the opportunity to start the Monroe Foundation. I don’t want that. It means so much to you.” He obviously needed it to soothe the pain of losing his brother. I didn’t want him to give it up because of me.
“Layne—”
“Would you back down if it weren’t for me?”
“No.”
“See? You’re not backing down, because that’s exactly what that person wants. Do the cops know?”
“Nobody does. I was told not to involve anyone.” Keaton shook his head. “This is crazy, Layne. I can’t live with myself if—”
“Giving up when you’ve come so far is crazy. I won’t allow that. But I do think you should involve the cops.”
Keaton closed his eyes, his Adam’s apple jerking. “I will.” He looked at me, his blue eyes radiating an intensity that made me shudder. “I promise I will protect you with my life.”