Chapter 8
KACEN
The Merc is too damn cheerful this morning.
Ruby has got some kind of jazz music playing, something bright and bouncy, and the smell of cinnamon scones is thick in the air.
There are flowers on every available space—sunflowers, daisies, those purple ones—and people milling around, buying groceries like everything is just fine.
It isn't.
I only came in for coffee. Just a normal cup of black coffee to get through the rest of the day, but then I see it.
A printed flyer pinned to the community board by the register. Bright orange cardstock, too cheery for what it is.
"Thank You to Our Anonymous Angel: A Quiet Tribute at Friendsgiving"
My heart stops.
I stare at the words for a long second. Maybe I read them wrong. But they don’t change. It’s not signed. There’s no explanation. Just a line at the bottom that says:
"For the one who gave without asking for thanks. We see you."
My blood runs cold. My vision narrows. The edges of the Merc blur. My chest tightens, shallow breath after shallow breath pushing in and out like I forgot how to breathe fully.
Ruby's voice floats from behind the counter. "Cute, right? Natalie helped with it."
I blink. "What?"
She glances up, cheerful as ever. "The little tribute idea. For the anonymous investor. Nothing flashy, just a quiet moment of gratitude. I figured you boys would appreciate that."
You boys.
The words hit like a punch. My hand tightens around the paper cup until the lid pops off and hot coffee splashes onto my fingers. I barely flinch. All I can hear is Ruby's voice echoing in my skull.
Natalie helped with it.
I think back to a conversation with Kingston months ago, one of those rare quiet moments between us. He’d said it while unpacking a box of books for the new library wing:
“If people know where the help’s coming from, they’ll start expecting something in return. That’s not why we do this. Let them think it’s luck. Let them believe in miracles.”
“So, you’re just gonna stay the town’s secret fairy godmother?” I’d asked, half-joking.
He’d met my eyes, serious as hell. “No. I’m gonna be the guy who doesn’t need his name on anything to feel good about doing the right thing.”
And now? Natalie made him a headline.
I nod at Ruby, numb, and leave without another word.
I barely remember the drive to Natalie’s. Just the thunder of blood in my ears, the sound of Ruby's voice echoing over and over.
Natalie helped with it. She couldn’t keep the secret, and I never should have told her. Of course, she’d try to get revenge against me the first chance she got. After everything I did to her back then, I probably deserve it, but Kingston doesn’t. He will never forgive me for this.
When I get to Natalie’s house, I slam the truck door. By the time I’m at her porch, my fists are clenched.
I reach the steps and stop. Trying to breathe. In through the nose, out through the mouth. My hands flex at my sides. I pace once, twice. Grip the porch rail until my knuckles go white. I tell myself not to go in angry. Not to yell.
But the betrayal roils hotter with every breath. My chest is tight. My throat is closing. I press my palm to the doorframe, willing the anger down.
And I fail.
I don’t bother knocking. The door's unlocked, like always, and I step inside.
She’s in the kitchen, barefoot, hair pulled back in a loose bun, wearing that oversized hoodie I like too damn much on her. She looks up with a smile that falters when she sees my face.
"Kacen?"
I hold up the flyer. It shakes in my hand.
"You told her."
Her brow furrows. "What?"
"Ruby. You told her about Kingston. About the investments. About everything."
Realization dawns in her eyes, but she doesn't answer fast enough.
"You promised," I say, voice low and shaking. "You looked me in the eye and promised."
She sets down the spoon she was holding, stepping toward me. "Kacen, I didn’t tell her. She already knew."
I laugh. It sounds harsh, broken. "That’s convenient."
Her expression hardens. "It’s the truth. I asked a question. She filled in the blanks."
"You knew what asking would do. You wanted her to know. You wanted this."
Her jaw tightens. "Why would I want this?"
"Revenge. Maybe you couldn’t humiliate me in high school, but now? Now you get to make me and my brother into some public sob story. The broken boys trying to make good."
Her face goes pale. "That’s not fair."
"Isn't it?"
Her voice rises, fierce now. "You think I’d weaponize your brother’s kindness? You think I’d make a hero moment out of your pain?"
"I didn’t do this to hurt you. I did it because Kingston deserves to be seen."
"He doesn’t want to be seen!"
I’m shouting now. The walls feel too close, my skin too tight. She steps back, but only slightly.
"You don’t get it," I say. "You don’t get what it cost him to do all this. To stay quiet. To help without asking for anything. And you threw it away for a flyer and a moment."
"You wanted to be forgiven. You wanted to start over. But in one moment you act like I’m the villain again," she says, her voice thick, but she doesn’t cry. Not yet. Her eyes shine, but she blinks back the tears like hell will freeze before she lets them fall.
"You think so little of me," she says. "You think I would betray you for a flyer?"
"I think you wanted your win. You wanted your justice. Well, congrats. You got it."
She flinches like I struck her. The silence that follows is louder than anything else.
I can’t stay. I can’t look at her.
I turn on my heel and leave. The door slams behind me.
I hear it echo and think—this is what Dad would've done. Accused. Stormed off. Slammed a door. Great. So now I'm him too.
Once back at Kingston's, I sit in the truck longer than I should. Hands gripping the wheel. Forehead pressed to the steering wheel. My breathing's erratic. I reach for my phone, open a message to Kingston.
Me: Bro, she knows.
Backspace.
Me: Natalie told Ruby.
Backspace.
I toss the phone onto the passenger seat like it burned me. My chest still feels like it’s caving in. My brother trusted me. I trusted her. And it’s all unraveling.
Finally, I throw the truck in reverse, but I don’t know where I’m going. Anywhere but here.
She promised.
And I believed her.
That’s on me.
Now I have to deal with the fallout with my brother.