Chapter 23
twenty-three
SKYLER
From the way Autumn winces I immediately know it’s true. Jesse is my brother . All this time he’s been coming over to see me and he’s known and he hasn’t told me. Nobody has told me. I’ve been living here on the island, a few hundred yards away from somebody whose blood is the same as mine and I had no damn clue.
“You’ve been hiding this from me too?” I ask Autumn, feeling betrayed.
“I’m sorry,” she whispers.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” I ask. Then a horrific thought comes into my mind. “Does everybody know?” And of course by everybody I mean Hudson. Did he know I was being lied to while we had sex in this bar? As he made love to me on the beach?
While he made me come in my apartment only hours ago?
Of course he did. I can tell that by the way Autumn shifts her feet. I feel sick. Like I’m some kind of experiment everybody has enjoyed watching.
How could they? How could they let me go on with my daily life not knowing?
“How could you all say nothing?” I ask again, unable to keep the sob from my voice.
Autumn’s face crumples in sympathy. “Jesse should be the one to tell you.”
Except he’s been lying too. He’s the worst liar of them all. Oh my god, I think I’m going to be sick for real. I put my hand over my mouth and rush past Autumn and Eileen, who looks remarkably sober compared to a moment ago. I need to throw up.
I need to not be here.
“Honey, please…” Autumn calls out. “Let me explain.”
I shake my head, running to the private door, entering the code. As soon as the lock clicks I thrust down on the handle. I can feel Autumn right behind me. I turn to look at her and tears are streaming down her face.
“I want to be alone,” I tell her.
“No.” She shakes her head, mascara running down her cheeks. “You don’t.”
There’s a lump in my throat so big I’m finding it hard to breathe. “I wish everybody would stop deciding my life for me,” I say. “Please leave me alone.” I step inside my apartment and slam the door, blocking out the noise from the bar beyond. It’s only then, when I’m in almost exactly the same position I was earlier when Hudson made me see stars that I allow the tears to fall.
Pain overwhelms me as I slide to the floor, sobs wracking my body.
* * *
I cry until I feel completely wrung out and empty, sitting on the floor, my face covered by my hands.
I still don’t understand it. I have a brother I never knew about. My dad had a son and didn’t tell me.
Nobody told me.
I need to talk to Lee and my mom, but I have no idea how to ask them if they knew. I’m ninety-nine percent sure that they don’t know either. If they did, if they lied to me too, I don’t know what I’ll do.
Maybe that’s why I’m afraid to call them. Not knowing is sometimes better than knowing the truth.
The music stopped playing almost as soon as I disappeared from the bar. I think most people have left – I heard the regular thud of car doors and engines rumbling as people drove away.
They must all think I’m terrible, not saying goodbye. Disappearing from my own opening party. Maybe it doesn’t matter. Maybe I should disappear altogether.
Suddenly the town that seemed so welcoming has turned into a darker place. One full of secrets.
And I hate it.
Every now and then there’s a tap at the door that I ignore. I know Autumn is a kind person but I can’t deal with her right now.
It’s another ten minutes before I hear a louder knock.
“Skyler. Open the door,” Hudson says.
I ignore him, because he’s a liar too.
“For fuck’s sake,” I hear him mutter. The next minute the door opens and he walks inside.
“How did you get in?” I ask him, aware of how much of a mess I must look. On the plus side, it’ll probably put him off wanting bed sex with me for good.
“I watched you punch in the code a couple of hours ago,” he says. “It’s nothing sinister.”
The man has a photographic memory to go with the money and power. Of course he does.
“I don’t want you here,” I tell him thickly. I manage to push myself up from my sobbing position against the wall, but my legs feel unsteady.
He stands in the center of the living room, clenching and unclenching his hands. “I understand that,” he says. “But there’s no way I’m leaving you alone.”
I sit down heavily on the sofa, as he stands there, looking at me with the kind of emotion I wasn’t sure he was capable of having. “I just came back from talking to Jesse,” he says. “I told him about Eileen blurting everything out. He’s devastated. He wants to talk to you, but I suggested he give you some space to get used to the idea.”
“I don’t want to talk to him,” I say, the tears starting to fall again. “I don’t want to talk to anybody,” I sob, lowering my head into my hands. “How could you all lie to me? I thought he was my friend. God, at one point I worried he was attracted to me? What if I’d kissed him? Jesus…”
A pair of strong arms wrap around me. Hudson kneels in front of me, pulling me against him. I’m too tired to resist, and maybe I need some comfort, from anywhere I can get it right now. My head lowers against his shoulder and I start to sob hard. The kind of messy, dirty sobs that lead to snotty noses and chest convulsions. And all through it, he just holds me, never letting go. Not talking, not moving, just letting me fall apart.
“Why didn’t Dad tell me I had a brother?” I mutter against his shirt, once I’ve finally cry myself out once more. I’ve managed to make his shoulder completely damp with my tears.
“Jesse wants to explain that to you,” Hudson says more gently than I’ve ever heard him talk. “And I think you should hear him out when you’re ready. I can tell you if you want, but really this part is between the two of you. I know if it was something between me and my sisters…”
I sniff loudly. “I don’t know that I want to talk to him.”
“He’s a good kid. He cares about you. Please don’t shut him out.”
“He’s only a couple of years younger than me,” I say. “Hardly a kid.”
“I know.” There’s a ghost of a smile on his lips. “But he still seems like a kid to me. I grew up with him.”
I let out a long breath, thinking of Jesse with his golden hair and shy smile. The way he’s been here so much. The way he always looks so happy to see me. Then I remember him on the boat, that first, rainy day when I arrived on Liberty. How he leaned in, looking delighted I was there.
My heart clenches. I have a brother. Somebody of my own. Somebody who knew Dad more than I did, more than Lee or Mom did, maybe.
“I’ll talk to him,” I say. “Tomorrow. I’m just so tired right now.”
Hudson pushes the hair that’s sticking to my wet cheeks behind my ear. “Of course you are,” he says. “Let’s get you to bed.”
Before I can say a word, the man is scooping me into his arms like I’m as light as a feather – something I know for a fact I’m not. And I’m not going to lie, it feels good. Way too good.
Like he cares for me. Like I’m something more than a challenge for him.
He carries me to the bedroom, laying me on top of the covers. Then he gently pulls off my shoes and unbuttons my blouse.
“I should brush my teeth,” I say.
“Tomorrow.” He pulls the blouse from my arms then turns his attention to my skirt. There’s no lust in his eyes. Nothing but care.
“And wash my face.”
“That can wait, too.” He helps me out of my skirt until I’m laying in my underwear on the mattress. “Get under the covers,” he says.
“Okay.”
I do as I’m told, finding comfort in just being , not thinking. I curl up under there, and he takes my hand in his, sitting down on the floor next to the mattress.
“What are you doing?” I ask him.
“Holding your hand.”
I almost laugh. “I know that. But what are you doing here ?”
“Making sure you get some rest. And keeping you company while you do.”
“You should go home to Ayda. She’ll be wondering where her daddy is.”
“Autumn has gone to my place to help the babysitter. I don’t have to be anywhere but here.”
I frown. “You’re planning to stay here all night?”
He tips his head, a smile playing on his lips. “I am,” he says solemnly. “I’m staying right here, next to your bed, not on your bed. There will be no funny business, no snuggles. No bed related sex.”
My cheeks pink up. I want to ask him why. Why would he stay here when there’s nothing to offer? But the fatigue is overwhelming. It’s like my body’s had too much and it just wants to shut down. To dream of something other than small towns full of secrets. I let out a yawn and he smiles at me, and it hits me right in the gut.
“I’ll be okay on my own,” I say.
“I have no doubt. But you don’t have to be on your own. So you won’t be.”
My eyes close against my will. My breathing evens out. And he’s still holding my hand as I slowly drift into the oblivion my aching heart craves.
But as I teeter on the edge of sleep, all I can think about is the fact that this feels more vulnerable than sex in a bed or anything else I’ve been building walls around. I feel raw and hurt and he’s here holding my hand, keeping me safe.
And I like it way, way too much.