Chapter Sixteen
Remy
I hate hospitals. The antiseptic smell reminds me of the night my mother died and the whole family gathered in the waiting room for news. Shaking off that morbid thought, I hold on to Raven’s hand as we enter the ER waiting room where Dex texted me to go.
“What happened?” I ask Aiden, since he’s staying at our father’s house.
“I…” He glances from Lizzie to her daughter, Brooklyn, and Lizzie’s face unexpectedly flushes.
“Your father was having dinner at the guesthouse. With me.”
I raise my eyebrows, suddenly understanding the implication.
“We’d just finished dinner and he rose from his seat and put his hand to his chest. He couldn’t breathe, he was dizzy and sweating.
” Her hands shake and Brooklyn steps closer, wrapping an arm around her mom’s waist. “I called 911 immediately,” Lizzie says.
“I didn’t waste any time. I swear.” Tears stream down her cheeks.
“It’s okay, Mom. Nobody blames you,” Brooklyn says, rubbing her mother’s back.
Murmurs of agreement rise from my brothers and Fallon.
I glance around at each of them, wondering what they know about this newly revealed couple.
They all shrug or shake their heads and I don’t think any of them were aware of Alex and Lizzie’s relationship.
The two have been good friends for years and I trust that if anything romantic was occurring, eventually my dad would let one of us know.
Until now, Alex Sterling hasn’t been involved with a woman since his wife died. Not to my knowledge, anyway. And if he and Lizzie were just having a friendly dinner, she wouldn’t blush so badly. Beyond that, my father’s personal life isn’t something I want to consider.
I pace the stark waiting room. Raven has taken a seat, understanding that I need time. I’m just glad she’s here.
Aiden and Dex walk over and I stop their movement. “What do you know? What did they say when they brought Dad in?”
“Not a damn thing,” Aiden mutters.
“They were more concerned with stabilizing him than reporting to the family.” Dex puts a brotherly arm on Aiden’s shoulder.
I lift a hand to run through my hair and realize I, too, am shaking. “Fuck.”
“The Sterling family?” A female doctor in a white coat stands in the doorway.
“That’s us,” I say, stepping up and taking control. As the oldest, I feel it’s up to me to hold it together for the rest of us. Dex seems to be doing the same.
“Mr. Sterling had what we call a myocardial infarction. In other words, a heart attack.”
Despite already thinking that was the case, Fallon gasps when the doctor confirms the news. The redheaded doctor goes on to explain about our father’s heart not getting enough blood and how important fast treatment always is.
Behind me, Lizzie sniffs, and I know she’s worried she didn’t do enough to help. Nobody here will blame her and I hope she knows that.
“Fortunately, the ambulance was called and arrived quickly. We were able to restore blood flow to the heart via a PCI procedure.”
Even my legs shake as I take in the news. “Will he be okay?” Dex asks.
The doctor nods. “We want to run some tests and see if he needs any further treatment, so expect him to be here for a few more days.”
“Thank you, Doctor.” I extend my hand and shake hers.
“You’re welcome. You can go in and see him now. Two at a time,” she instructs, then turns and walks back through the double doors.
“Please, can I go first?” Fallon asks, her eyes red-rimmed.
“Go ahead. Take Lizzie with you,” I say. “I’m sure she needs to see for herself that he’s okay.”
The woman we all know well gasps. “I couldn’t do that. One of you boys should go with her.”
Aiden strides over and holds both her hands in his. “We all know who Dad will want to see. Go ahead.”
“It’s okay, Mom. I’ll be waiting when you get back,” Brooklyn says.
Lizzie smiles in gratitude. “I won’t stay long. Come on, Fallon.” Hand in hand, they walk back the way the doctor went.
Dex turns to the rest of the group. “Who knew about Dad and Lizzie? Fallon? Brooklyn?” His tone sounds more like he’s curious than upset.
We each shrug.
I feel the same way. Maybe when I was younger, it might have bothered me to see my father moving on with someone new but Alex’s focus has always been his kids. As far as I’m concerned, our dad has been alone for too long.
We disperse from our large group and I find Raven sitting in a chair, waiting for me.
I stride over and sit down next to her. “I’m sorry I left you alone.”
“I heard what the doctor said but I didn’t want to intrude.” Raven tucks a stray strand of hair behind her ear.
I frown, taking her hand and pulling her closer. “You couldn’t intrude if you wanted to. I need you here.”
Her soft smile warms me.
“Are you okay?” she asks, stroking my face in her hand.
“I’m not sure. I just know I’ll feel better when I see Dad for myself.”
“I don’t blame you.” She glances up at me, her eyes wide with concern. “Why do I think you’re going to let everyone else go first?” she asks.
“Because you know I love my siblings?” She purses her lips and I recognize that narrowed-eyed, I’m thinking face. “What?” I ask.
“Later,” she murmurs.
Why do I have a feeling I’m not going to like what I hear?
* * *
Raven
It’s been a long day, I think, as I finally change into my nightshirt, otherwise known as my stolen T-shirt, and climb into bed beside Remy. He’s lying with one arm behind his head, looking scrumptious with the sheet rumpled at his waist, his abdominal muscles on full display.
But tonight isn’t about sex. It’s about talk and comfort, which I’ve sensed Remy needs ever since getting the phone call about his father this morning.
I lift the covers and crawl beneath. “Are you okay?” He’s been quiet since he went in to visit his dad.
“Yeah. I’m just beat.”
I nod. “Did you talk to your father or did you just sit with him?” I ask, turning to face him.
“Dad was worn out. I just sat by the bed and let him know I was there.”
Of course, I think. Because after Fallon and Lizzie returned from their brief check, Aiden and Brooklyn went in to see Alex.
There were many times today when I got the sense there’s something more than friendship going on between those two.
Next was Dex and Jared, leaving Remy to go last, just as I predicted, and Alex exhausted.
“You’re a good brother, letting everyone else go first to see your father.”
“I’m the oldest. I try and hold things together when shit goes bad,” he says, surprising me.
I tip my head to the side. “Does shit go bad often? Or are you talking about after your mom died?” I know I’m pushing him but I sense he needs to release the hurt, pain, and guilt resulting from his choices that night.
“She didn’t die, she was murdered,” he mutters.
Oh, he’s in a mood and I’m right. He blames himself for deciding to go out with a girl instead of having dinner with his mother. And now he feels like his siblings should take precedence in visiting with their dad because guilt is a bitch, as I know from Emily’s attack and my own resulting remorse.
I reposition myself, curling my legs beneath me. “Remy.” I place a hand on his shoulder. “Your rational self knows it’s not your fault. In the course of all your cases, how many people have you told the same thing?”
“Too many. And why are you psychoanalyzing me?” He pushes himself further back against the pillows and headboard.
“Because I think you’ll feel better after you get this poison out of your system. I also think nobody in the family realizes how deeply you still blame yourself. Let me ask you something. Do you think your father blames you?”
He grits his teeth. “I don’t want to talk about this.”
I lean up on my knees. “But we’re going to. Because you’re the best man I’ve ever met and I hate to see you punish yourself.”
He throws the covers off his waist and rises to his feet, grabbing for a pair of track pants that are lying over the recliner.
“You can’t run from your problems, Remy.”
“Why the fuck not? You plan to,” he says as he puts his second leg into the pants and settles them on his hips before walking out the door.
I blink, my eyes filling with tears. He’s turned his anger and frustration on me and it hurts.
* * *
Remy
An hour after I stormed out of the bedroom after having a tantrum like a child, I’m staring at the screen on the computer in my office. I’m unable to focus on anything and haven’t accomplished one damn thing.
All I did was try to avoid the truth that Raven hit on with accuracy.
My guilt impacts my choices today. Oh, even without the remorse I feel for the night my mother died, I might have stepped back and allowed my siblings to go see our father first anyway.
But I wouldn’t have had the pain in my chest and the fear that I’m to blame.
Why has this come up now, though? Today should be about my father’s health.
When I let myself think about it, the answer is clear.
If my dad had died, we would have lost both parents and I’d feel I was to blame.
I shake my head and groan. No wonder I understood Lizzie’s feelings so well.
But if she isn’t at fault for her actions after my father’s heart attack, if she did the best she could, was I at fault for being a kid?
Damn. Maybe I should have listened to the therapist my father forced all us kids to see during our grieving period for our mom.
Instead, I sat mulishly silent, until the man told Alex he was paying for nothing and he didn’t think he’d reach me at all.
When my father asked me if I wanted to try another psychologist, I shook my head. And that was that.
Raven is smarter than I am, figuring me out in no time. And I treated her like shit.
“Dammit.” Knowing I need to apologize, I push my chair back and rise to my feet.
I start to walk out of my office only to run into Raven.
She’s still wearing my T-shirt, which I have to admit I find fucking hot.
But I don’t feel the same way about her red-rimmed eyes or the tear tracks on her pale skin.
She folds her arms across her chest and stares at me, chin tilted up, her eyes filled with hurt I caused.
I force myself to meet her gaze. “I’m sorry. I was angry and I hated the fact that you were right so I lashed out. What I said was wrong, and cruel.”
“Arguing is one thing but I don’t fight dirty,” she says, her voice hoarse. “If I wasn’t worried about Lance, I would have been out of here for good. I had enough verbal slaps growing up. I won’t take them from you.”
God, I admire her strength and how she protects herself from anything that comes at her. I’m disgusted that she feels she has to do it from me.
“It won’t happen again,” I say, holding out my arms. I’ll be more self-aware, even if dealing with my feelings feels like I’m drowning in them.
She narrows her gaze. “And you’ll talk to your father and cleanse that guilt?”
The woman drives a hard bargain but since I plan on doing that anyway, and I’d agree to walk across hot coals if it means she forgives me, I nod. “I will.”
A second later, she steps forward and then she’s in my embrace, letting me hug her to me and whisper words I know she doesn’t want to hear.
My girl has her own issues when it comes to dealing with feelings but I understand why. Her situation isn’t over and done with. I can’t just demand she get over it or ask her to talk things through and move on. But no matter how difficult her world gets, she doesn’t lash out at me.
I kneel and slide one hand beneath her knees, lifting her into my arms and heading for the bedroom where I hold her for the rest of the night.
* * *
Raven
I stand in front of the bathroom mirror. I splash cold water on my face and pat my skin dry. As I go through my morning routine, my thoughts drift to last night and how easily I forgave Remy. Not just for his raised words but for storming out on me in the middle of an argument.
The only reason I did was because when I walked into his office to have it out with him, he was on his feet and ready to come back to bed. And because he apologized in seconds, which told me he’d been mulling over our argument just as I was. And since he obviously felt bad.
I’m not one of those women who fall at a man’s feet or are desperate to believe easy words but who know he’ll be repeating the pattern soon. No, Remy is a good guy who’s been in terrible emotional pain, so I push last night’s events aside and move on.
With that settled, his other words come back to me.
Another woman I love.
Remy loves me. If not for the argument after, I’d be reeling from that revelation.
Had I allowed myself to consider our connection, I’d have already known how he feels.
He shows me every single day that he’s not just in this for the benefits, I think, my lips lifting in amusement.
And no matter what I tell myself, neither am I.
I love the man who’s protecting and caring for me. And under any other circumstances, I’d wrap my arms around his neck, look into those sexy eyes, and say it back. Another thing I can blame Lance for. Taking away my ability to admit to loving the best man I know.
My smile turns into a frown. No thinking about Lance. Today is about being there for Remy.
When I walk out of the bathroom, he’s not in the room so I dress and go to find him, discovering him in the kitchen. I join him and he hands me a bagel with cream cheese.
“For the road,” he says. “I’m hoping to get to the hospital in time to be the first to see Dad.”
I smile at that. “Good. And if anyone else is waiting, just tell them you need a few minutes with him alone,” I say and take a bite of my bagel, enjoying the delicious doughy breakfast. “After you talk to him, can we spend the afternoon at the bar? I am so behind on paperwork.”
“I already asked Stevie to drop the laptop off along with the papers on your desk. I figured you could do your work here?”
I sigh. “Okay, Mr. Obvious.”
“What does that mean?”
I shrug. “Just that I can see through your I’m just being so accommodating act. You want me here and not at the bar where Lance just might show his face.”
“Busted,” he says, not the least bit bothered by being caught. “Come on. Just humor me until we have some kind of plan in place.”
I stare at him for a good thirty seconds, hoping to convey my annoyance. But in the end, I know why he’s keeping me prisoner here and give in. “Fine. But we’re going to talk to Caleb and Zach again. Soon.”
The worry lines I saw last night are back in his forehead as he agrees with a nod.