Chapter 15
Fifteen
Briar
I suck in a breath and try to calm myself as I walk into the Sapphire Room.
Funny story, it doesn’t work.
Mostly because I’m shitting myself.
I dropped Frankie at Aspen’s place after work, stopped by the house to change and tell Colt I had something to do.
And now I’m here.
Doing it.
Of course, we had an argument before I left, him rightly guessing that I was going to tell the boys he was the father and pissed that I was trying to do it without him.
I shouldn’t have gone home to change after work.
I just…well, part of me wanted out of my heels.
The rest—
The rest needed to see him.
And that urge—and wrestling with the guilt of it and what it means for West and me along with the effort it took to convince him that I needed to do this alone—means I’m running late.
And I hate running late.
Hate that I have to have this conversation.
Hate—
A lot.
And none of that is going to do anything but make me more stressed out, more late.
“Enough,” I whisper and force myself to turn the corner and walk into the club. It’s quiet because the crowd doesn’t really pick up until after dinner time, and I can’t decide if that’s good or bad.
Good because there will be less people to witness my brothers freaking out, planning a murder…and then potentially going out to conduct said murder.
Bad because I won’t have too many people to intervene if the talk of murder turns my way.
They won’t leave Frankie an orphan, right?
“Briar!”
Shaking myself at Dash’s impatient voice, I hurry over to our table. The table that none of the guys are actually sitting down at.
Probably because it has a bronze plaque that says Reserved for Colt affixed to its top.
Yikes.
“What’s up?” I ask my brother when I’m within speaking (instead of bellowing distance).
“Aspen’s no-showed,” he says with a scowl. “And the fucking bourbon rep no-showed too.”
Right.
Our subterfuge.
I didn’t really think about what would happen after the meeting that drew them all here, didn’t actually happen.
Or that—given the annoyed expressions on the three men’s faces—how that would impact the starting tone of our conversation.
“Do you know where she is?” Atlas asks, still in a suit, and clearly not having going home to change.
Yikes again.
Apparently, Lily didn’t give him a mind-blowing orgasm to soften the edges of his grumpy.
“Um, yes,” I admit, earning three annoyed expressions again.
Though at least Royal’s is edging away from irritated.
Instead, his blue eyes are shrouded, as though he’s preparing for something.
Well, the man better.
Because I’m about to tell them something that will make them incredibly unhappy.
Or…maybe not?
Maybe, like Banks, they already know, and just didn’t want to say anything?
Maybe—
“Well?” Dash demands.
“Well, what?” I ask.
“Well,” Atlas says, waving an impatient hand, “where the fuck is she?”
Watching my daughter so I can tell you guys I banged your best friend and got knocked up, and funny story, that’s why we’re all here tonight, folks!
Which is a thought I’m keeping in my head.
Deep in my head.
“Thorny,” Royal says and though it’s calm, there’s a note of impatience there. “Talk to us.”
“Right,” I whisper. Then exhale and focus. “I need to tell you guys something.”
And great…more tension.
It swirls through the air like an almost palpable force, clenching at my throat, my stomach, clawing its way through my insides.
“Can we all sit down?” I say.
Atlas crosses his arms but, for the record, doesn’t move, just glares at me.
Dash adopts a similar expression, though he does it with his hands on his hips.
Royal studies me for a long moment—eyes unreadable—then sighs quietly and sinks down into the chair he always sits at when we come to the Sapphire Room.
“Guys,” he says when Atlas and Dash don’t move (probably because they don’t want anything to do with Colt), and though they go into a long standoff with glares exchanged all around, eventually they move to the table and sit down.
I don’t miss that Atlas sets the black leather cocktail menu sitting at its center on its side.
Covering the plaque with Colt’s name on it.
Oh, this is so not going to go well.
But I need to do it.
And the best way to deal with tough shit is to put my head down and just…get down to it.
So, I shore my spine, take another fortifying breath, and get down to it.
“I should have told you guys this a long time ago,” I say quietly, glancing at each of them in turn before I direct my gaze down to my hands, searching for the right words, trying to choose them carefully.
“I…at first I didn’t know why I so stubbornly kept the truth close to my chest, except that it felt like one of the few things in the world that was mine and mine alone.
” I suck in a breath, release it slowly.
“If I told anyone, if the truth came out, then it wouldn’t just be mine anymore.
” My throat goes tight, eyes burning, and I have to push the next words out.
“And if it wasn’t just mine a-anymore th-then—”
God!
Why is this so hard?
Why does it feel impossible?
Atlas reaches over, and at first, I think he’s just taking my hands.
Then I realize he’s gently opening them, unclenching my fists, spreading my fingers, stopping me from digging my nails into my palms.
Something I hadn’t even realized I was doing.
“I’m listening, Briar,” he says and finally there’s no edge to his words now.
They’re just…Atlas. Just my big brother who’s always had my back.
I nod, acknowledging that. “Thank you.” And with his deep brown eyes on mine, I find with him next to me and Royal close and not annoyed that I can push through the storm cloud that is Dash…
And the rest of the words come a little easier.
“The truth is that Colt is Frankie’s father.”
Atlas’s hands tighten around mine.
Royal curses softly under his breath and sits back.
Dash…well, when I look up at my brother, he’s still. Beyond still. So fucking still he could be a statue.
Until he explodes into motion.
“Fuck!” he shouts, bursting out of his chair.
He doesn’t storm out of the Sapphire Room, doesn’t leave.
Instead, he picks up the chair he was sitting in and launches it—launches it—across the room.
It explodes, pieces of wood and splinters flying in all directions.
Thankfully, no one was standing where he threw it, but that’s all I have to be thankful for because a heartbeat later, he’s grabbed my arms and yanked me to my feet, both of his big hands coming to my shoulders.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” he growls. “Are you—?”
“Don’t,” Atlas says, stepping between us, and my heart skips a beat when Royal tucks me close to him. “You don’t ever put your hands on a woman in anger.”
“She—”
“I know what she fucking said,” he grits out then says, “but still fucking never.”
Dash inhales, exhales. Then nods tersely at Atlas before his eyes come to mine.
They’re still angry, but now that anger is banked.
“I’m sorry, Thorny,” he murmurs.
I slip out of Royal’s hold, move over to him. “I know,” I whisper. “I should have told you.”
“Yes, you should have,” Royal says.
Turning toward him, I open my mouth, to say what, I’m not even sure at this point—because what else is there to say? But before I can get that far, another voice joins the conversation.
“This isn’t on Briar,” Colt says, stepping out of the shadows.
He’s here.
Of course he is.
And Dash goes still again.
Fuck.
Talk about terrible timing.
That still only lasts a second before Dash is in Colt’s face, his big hand gripping the collar of Colt’s tee.
Colt doesn’t react, doesn’t try to pull away, doesn’t do anything but stand there as Dash growls, “You fucked my sister!”
“No,” he says quietly, evenly, still not shoving Dash away, still not reacting to the pissed-off male grabbing him by the throat. “I made love to the woman I was falling for.”
“You fucked her and then you fucked her over by leaving.”
Now Colt starts to react, anger bleeding into the lines of his face. “I had every intention of coming back.”
“Right,” Dash mutters. “Same as you were planning on seeing Lindsay Donovan again. And Becky Connors. And Stephanie McDougal. And—”
“Shut the fuck up.” He rips Dash’s hand off him. “Briar was nothing like them and you know it.”
“I don’t know anything!” Dash shouts. “One second you were dead, and now you’re alive. One minute you were gone, and the next I’m finding out that you fucked my goddamned sister.”
Not going to lie, hearing Dash recount Colt’s former lovers doesn’t feel great.
But neither does what happens next.
Colt shoves Dash.
And Dash shoves him back.
I gasp, thinking about those broken bones, the still-healing cuts, the fading bruises.
“Fuck,” Atlas snaps. “Dash, calm down. Colt, sit your ass down before you fall over.”
Royal takes a step toward them, as though to corral them.
Too late.
Dash throws a punch.
Colt takes it, then throws one back.
And then…they’re fighting.
And it’s brutal and intense and scary and…I react without thinking.
“Stop!” I cry as I launch myself between them.
Something that is supremely stupid.
Because I’ve never been in a fist fight, certainly never in one that involves two people who have been trained with deadly skill.
And I’ve thrown myself in the middle of them.
Right as Dash looses a right hook toward Colt’s head…
I see his face change, watch as he tries to stop.
Feel Colt’s arm come around my middle, trying to pull me back.
But there’s no fighting physics, not when strength and momentum are on its side.
My brother’s fist glances off my temple, and I go down with a cry, pain exploding on my face. I know it’s a glancing blow, Dash trying to stop, Colt dragging me back, but God, that hurts a fucking lot.
And they were punching each other over and over again, nothing about the blows glancing in the least.
“Thorny,” Dash whispers, crouching in front of me, his face full of regret. “Let me see.”
I shake my head, hand over my throbbing face. “No, I’m fine,” I say. “You need to stop with Colt. He’s hurt and—”
“Here.” I look up, see Atlas is holding out a bag of ice. “On your face. Now.”
“Honey, I’m so sorry,” Dash says. “I didn’t mean—”
“I know.”
“You need to go,” Atlas snaps. “Get your fucking head together before someone else gets hurt.”
The look on Dash’s face.
Dammit, it hurts.
“Thorny,” he whispers again.
“Just go, Dash,” I tell him softly. “Listen to Atlas. Go and calm down, and when you’re ready we’ll talk.”
He clenches his jaw tightly together. I know he doesn’t want to go.
But I also know that he knows he’s totally fucked this up.
So, a moment later, he’s gone.
A moment after that, I give in to the tears burning my eyes.
And a moment after that, Colt lifts me into his arms.
“B-but you’re h-hurt—”
“Shut it, baby,” he orders and then holds me closer, holds me like I’m the most precious piece of treasure in the world.
And then he carries me out to my car.