Chapter 4 #2
Weston, much like Joshua, had lost his parents when he was younger. But unlike Joshua, Weston had been forced to raise his three younger siblings. From the time the twins were ten, Weston had been their guardian.
Joshua on the other hand, hadn’t had the chance to be Harper’s guardian.
My hands fisted at my sides for a moment as Weston opened my fridge to see what meager offerings I had. I’d picked up a few things from the main general store, but there wasn’t much.
I had a feeling that’s how everyone knew I was in town, because you couldn’t walk through the small downtown of Cage Lake as a Cage without people noticing.
My business was always out there for everybody to see. I had grabbed a few things to get me through and really missed delivery already. I did not like the stares, because they weren’t as kind as the ones from my family. No, my family had good intentions. I didn’t know what the town wanted.
Because the town and Joshua hadn’t been able to keep Harper safe. Not when she had been a kid. Joshua hadn’t been able to keep custody of Harper, not until he had won a vicious battle with their grandparents.
My best friend had hidden most of it from me, at least the parts of why he was able to get his kid sister back. And I didn’t dare to think about what Harper had gone through in the process.
But now I was back in town, and my best friend was gone, and that meant I was the only person left to make sure Harper was okay. That she had someone in her corner.
I was doing a piss poor job of it.
“Do you want a beer? Water? Because we don’t have much else,” Weston drawled.
“I’m fine.”
Weston gave me a look that spoke volumes.
“You’re not in the city. There’s no food delivery.
Though the pizza place does have a delivery boy.
Just not when there’s ice. Or heavy wind.
Or a chill. And since you’re in the middle of the forest in this shack, that makes the chance of him showing up around zero. ”
I laughed at that though it was a hollow one. The place was three stories with six bedrooms and four bathrooms, let alone countless other tiny rooms with different names. It wasn’t a shack.
“It’s fine. I have enough food to get me by.”
“And I have a feeling you’re not going to want to go into the restaurants to eat there, so we’re going to need to make sure you get more.”
“Do not text Isabella,” I warned, but Weston just smiled at me.
“Too late. I snapped a few photos of your bare cupboards, so the love of my life will probably be over soon with a color-coded spreadsheet and a meal wheel for you.”
“What the hell is a meal wheel?” Hudson asked as he stomped inside, kicking off snow as he did. “Wood’s done. But fuck, Dorian. What the hell are you doing in this place? Do you even know how to fix the subflooring?”
There was probably a metaphor somewhere in that but I didn’t have the energy to find one. “Contrary to popular belief, I did help build my clubs. I didn’t just sign a check and call it a day. I know how to fix this place up.”
At least I hoped I did.
Hudson tilted his head as he studied me. “You might have the skills, but I still want to know why.”
“There’s no reason. It’s just what I’m doing right now.” Lies. Lies. Lies.
“Well, doing something is good,” Weston said as he met Hudson’s gaze.
I ignored them both, gritting my teeth “Please don’t send Isabella over here. I don’t need a nanny.”
“I’m pretty sure my Bella would hate even hearing that phrase.”
“Well, I don’t need her to take care of me. And technically, she’s my younger sister.” My shoulders sagged as I let out a breath.
“So?”
I shrugged. “She has the older sibling mentality. You’re going to have to deal with it, middle child.”
“Our family tree confuses me,” Hudson said with a sigh. “I didn’t used to be a middle child. Not really. Why aren’t you staying at your house? I keep up with it for a reason.”
“I have things to do here.”
I didn’t elaborate, and when I didn’t lean into their conversation, they finally let me be. But not without a stern look, a glare, and a promise they would be back with tools and their sweat.
I didn’t want their help. I just needed to get this done and out of my hair.
And I needed to fix what I had already broken.
With a sigh, I closed up the house and got into my truck.
I needed to fix the driveway, not only clear it, but repave some of it, but for that I would have to hire someone.
While I knew how to fix the house, I had no idea what to do with that part.
The trees needed to be trimmed, and there were probably a dozen other things that needed to be done with the land.
I knew I was in over my head, but it was better to deal with this than go back to one of my clubs and deal with the stares. Of course, as I drove through downtown and parked in front of Harper’s bakery, the stares followed me there too.
I didn’t look that much different. Yes, my beard was longer, so I could try to cover my scar, and they couldn’t see the scars on my side. And as long as I practiced, I didn’t limp.
They couldn’t see the evidence of me surviving a plane crash.
But they also saw the lack. I did.
Joshua had died. And I had survived. Only I had no idea what to do with that.
With a sigh, I got out of my truck gingerly and made my way into the bakery. I did not understand why she had named the place Rising Cage, but it had made her laugh, and I had shaken my head when she signed the lease with Aston.
I had been so damn proud of her for going for her dreams. Not everybody at her age or position would have even thought to get where she was. The place was bustling. She was damn good at her job, and Joshua had always been so proud of her.
I was proud of her too.
She had grown into this person that surprised me every day.
And I had ignored her for too long. I hadn’t truly known her when she had been younger.
She had always been in the periphery when I visited.
It wasn’t like I had grown up in Cage Lake.
So it wasn’t until she was out of high school and living with Joshua that I had fully gotten to know her.
Maybe that was why every time I saw her, I had to remind myself that she was Joshua’s kid sister.
And not a full-fledged adult in her early twenties with a career, an apartment, and a dog she loved.
Sometimes I felt like I was failing in that though.
“Dorian, so good to see you.” I looked up at the older woman behind the counter and frowned.
“Melody, right?”
“You remembered. It’s good to see you. Harper is in the back if you want to head over there. She’s been decorating cakes all day.”
I saw the frown on her face for a blink before she smiled, but I leaned forward anyway. “What’s wrong?”
Melody blinked. “It’s just good to see you.”
The worry in her tone dripped like syrup, and I ignored it. “Is Harper okay?”
“She’s just been baking. It’s what she does these days.”
That was weird because Harper usually worked up front.
She loved talking with customers, figuring out their favorite desserts, and working them into her schedule.
I suppose it made sense. As I could feel the stares on my back, people on pins and needles waiting to ask how I was, at least those who lived in town, it must be twice as bad for Harper.
She lived with it day in and day out. No wonder she wanted to stay in the back.
I cleared my throat—the stares on my body digging in. “I’ll go visit.”
“I think she needs that.”
I moved past Melody, ignoring the slight wince in my step, and walked to the back of the kitchen. Harper stood there, hands on hips as she frowned at the book in front of her, and I couldn’t help but smile at the studious look on her face.
“So…Wellesley. This is what you do all day? Frown at books and flour?”
Her gaze shot up, her eyes widening. “Oh. You’re here. Are you okay?”
I ground my teeth and told myself she didn’t mean anything by it. “Just here to say hi.”
“You called me Wellesley.” That little line between her eyebrows deepened, and I wanted to rub it away.
I hated when I got that urge, the same as that little squeezing thing that happened to my chest whenever I saw her. “What?” I asked, trying to remember what she said.
“You called me Wellesley,” she repeated, her eyes wide and her voice curious.
“I always used to call you Wellesley. Or Wells. It’s your name.”
“You’ve been calling me Harper. I mean, it’s my first name, but I always liked that you called me Wellesley.” Her cheeks pinked as she lowered her head and shrugged, wiping her hands on her apron. “Anyway. Is there something you need?”
She’d always been my Wellesley. Sure, she was Harper in my head too, but she was Wellesley too.
And I hadn’t even realized I’d called her the wrong thing.
I was a damn asshole and needed to get my head on straight.
Her clipped tone could have been daggers for the way she looked, and I swallowed hard.
“I’m sorry, I’m an ass. Yesterday, the past year. I’m sorry.”
She looked over my shoulder, a frown on her face.
I followed her gaze with a frown. “What is it?”
“I was just wondering if someone was there pushing you to say that.”
An odd feeling slammed into me. Was I that much of an asshole? Yes. Yes, I was. Joshua had asked me to do one thing in his life—to take care of his baby sister—and I’d been doing a shit job of it so far. “Nobody is pushing me to be here. I’m here because I want to be.”
Her eyes widened for an instant, and she swallowed hard. “Oh. That’s good. I’m glad you’re here. I know I didn’t sound it yesterday, but I am. And you’re allowed to be an ass. Of course, that’s not saying much, as am I.”
My lips twitched. “Language, Wellesley.”
“I’m an adult, Dorian. I probably curse more than you do.”
“I’m not quite sure about that. But why are you allowed to be an ass too?” I asked, tilting my head as I studied her face.
The circles under her eyes had darkened, but then again so had mine.
But she was still so damn beautiful. She’d colored her hair darker since I had last seen her, and I liked it on her.
It made her cheekbones pop, not that I would tell her that.
It seemed like a weird thing to say to your best friend’s little sister.
But I had always liked Harper’s smile, and the way that she leaned into everything she did.
“I’m allowed to be an ass because my brother is dead and he was all that I had left,” she said point blank, pulling me out of my attentions.
Again. A kick to the chest. “Wellesley,” I whispered. I had moved in front of her without thinking, and now we were less than a foot away.
Her lips quivered and it took all within me not to reach out and bring her close. I didn’t think she’d let me, nor did I think Joshua would want that. And hell, my leg ached enough at the moment that I’d probably fall on my ass in my rush.
“Sorry. I didn’t mean to blurt that out. But it’s true. He’s gone. So I guess we’re both allowed to be asses.”
“You still have me you know. I mean, it doesn’t seem like it recently, but you do.”
Her eyes filled, and I cursed.
“Dorian.”
Panicked, I ignored my earlier control and reached out, not knowing what to do, but she wrapped her arms around my waist and hugged me tightly. Awkwardness settled in for just a moment, but then I realized this was Wellesley. Harper.
I swallowed hard and held her back, holding her tightly. And when she nuzzled into my chest, I leaned down and rested my cheek on top of her head.
I didn’t mean to, but I inhaled, that sweet vanilla scent of hers filling my nostrils.
“I miss him,” she whispered.
I sighed, running my hand up and down her back.
“I miss him too.”
And we stood there, ignoring her work, ignoring the world.
Because I knew I couldn’t go anywhere. Not with Harper in my arms.
Where she should have always been.