Chapter 24 Connor
CONNOR
Still sitting in the Jeep, I say, “Okay, fine. We’re married. Pretend to be my wife.” I’m practically pleading with Cateline to go along with a little scheme I came up with mere seconds ago.
Because Cain and I have waged a lifetime war, why stop now? He somehow convinced a woman he’s marriable material and not a scaly beast that lurks in sewers. Why not me too? I never considered marriage, but I could be a good fake husband. No, a great one.
“Mr. Wolfe, I most certainly will not pretend to be married to you,” Cat retorts, affronted.
“Oh, right, you’re my coach. Blah, blah, blah. Then we’ll go with fiancée. I’ll even settle for girlfriend.”
“No, I do not want to get caught up in your rivalry with your brother. Also, I’m a terrible liar. Don’t you have a pool of women you can draw from?”
I link my pinky in hers and swing it between us. “Just you, Kitty Cat.”
Her mouth opens and closes like she’s not sure what to say, then settles on, “The answer is no.”
I wince, hoping for the best as I get out and round to the passenger side to open the door for her.
“Thank you,” she says, hopping down.
Despite our surroundings and the shift between us in the last thirty-six hours, I’m still being evaluated as her pupil.
Then again, I would’ve opened the door for her anyway.
I want to show her that I’m a gentleman.
Then my thoughts turn dark. If I were a true gentleman, I wouldn’t have taken her to the camp, er, place where I grew up.
Instead, we’d go to a luxury hotel. I’d lavish her with the finest chocolates and bouquets of flowers, we’d visit museums, have long dinners, and stroll along a private beach somewhere far from here.
However, the Blancbourg program rules state that wherever I go, she goes, so here we are.
If Cateline can make it through the next week with me, anything is possible. Maybe even a visit to that little pocket of paradise.
“What is this place?” she asks, falling into step beside me.
A rickety screen door opens and slaps the exterior wall of the cottage. Six feet of aggression steps outside with his arms crossed and wearing the meanest scowl in the mountains. “Well, well, well. Look what the cat dragged in.”
I glance at Cat and give my head a little shake. I never mentioned my pet name for her. Never mentioned her period. I make it a habit of talking to Cain as little as possible.
“Come to tell me the competition continues? I thought we were over that. Grown up now.”
“I’d like to think so.”
“But what do you got here? You getting married, too, little brother? If that’s the case, this little lady ought to know what she’s getting into.” Cain eyes Cateline like a meal. But he’s the kind of wolf that likes to torment its prey first.
I roll my shoulders, watching for the slightest indication he’ll make a move—the coil of muscle, the grit of teeth, or the change in the direction of the wind.
Anything and nothing could cause Cain to strike.
And I will come back with a hundred tons, multiplied by nearly thirty years, of what could politely be called frustration.
“Nope. Just here for your wedding.”
“You wanted to see this old place before I level it to the ground?” His laugh is as dark as ever.
“That’s your plan?”
“Or torch it. See, the new Mrs. Wolfe and I are going to build us a home here.”
“You sound so much like Dad.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them. He looks like our father, too, but I won’t go so far as to point that out.
We had a complicated relationship with Dennis Wolfe.
I learned early on to steer clear of him.
Cain would warm up when Dad was in one of his good moods.
But there was no telling when he’d turn sour, making us wish we had somewhere else to go, anywhere.
Even if we retreated to the woods, he’d track us like animals.
Unfortunately, our shared misery didn’t bring us together.
“So you settled the estate?” I ask.
“Nothing to settle. You said you didn’t want anything to do with the property.”
“You got that right. But you called me to meet you here. So what’s up?” I ask.
Cain ducks into the cabin and I follow. I debate between telling Cateline to wait here. My pranks are child’s play compared to the things my brother used to do.
Cateline stops in her tracks. Fear, concern, and something else—anger maybe—streaks across her features. “Is this where you grew up?”
I nod. “How’d you guess? The loving welcome? The resemblance?” I sense the shadows filling my eyes by the way she looks up at me. Specters from the past follow me wherever I go, but since leaving, they straight up haunt me during the rare times I’ve set foot on this property.
Placing my hand on Cateline’s low back, I usher her inside. She’s safe as long as she’s with me.
My head grazes the rafters. It was by some act of providence that I shot almost six inches the summer before I started senior year. It was by sheer determination of will that I grew stronger than my brother and father. Ironic, since he’d been the one to push me so hard.
Cateline stands by my elbow, letting me be the alpha for now.
“Figured you might want one last look at our lovely abode. Yep. Home sweet home. Does the pretty lady know that you’d wet the bed well past ten years old? Or that you’d cry yourself to sleep? That you had lice and would—”
“Enough, Cain.”
“Why’d you bring the pretty lady if not to tell her the truth?
” Even though it’s darker in here than outside, I see he’s still missing a tooth.
“Did you come to prove a point? The big, bad football player. Big paycheck. Big ego. Big baby. Always thought you were better than me. I’d hoped to have beaten that notion out of you. ”
I sense Cateline stiffen and then step even closer to me. I angle myself as a shield.
Later, I’ll owe her an explanation. For the time being, I want to get the visit over with. “She’s my coach.”
Cain lets out a long peel of laughter. “That little thing? Not much more than a stiff breeze would blow her over.” Typical of him to talk about her as if she isn’t here. Back in the day, if I wasn’t invisible, I was in the way and he always made sure I knew that.
“She’s tougher than she looks.”
Cain lifts his beady eyes to meet mine. “Is she tough enough to survive out there for a week?”
“What about your fiancée? Is she up for the challenge?”
“No, we’re going on a honeymoon. Headed to Atlantic City for a week.”
“No Enduro this year?” I ask, barely hiding my shock.
“Nope. Hanging up my boots. I’m about to be a married man. But that don’t mean you won,” Cain says as if he has something up his sleeve.
“Actually, it does. I’ll be the last man standing.”
“If you survive.” He chortles. “So the little lady is joining you out there in the woods?”
I grunt because I don’t owe him explanations about where we’re going or what we’re doing.
“And that ring? Surely, you could do better than that, Richie Rich.”
She purses her lips as if holding back.
“So like you, Connor, to pick up strays.”
Cateline tenses beside me, but I’m a cannon, ready to destroy Cain if he so much as says another word.
Then a delicate hand lands on my waist. I take a deep breath, remembering that my brother is pushing buttons, desperate to get me to blow so he can then show that he’s the better brother, more civilized.
My lip curls into a sneer. “She is not a stray.”
Cain tilts his head and looks at Cat. “Little lady, good luck with this weak, no good, piece of—”
Cateline holds up her hands. “That’s enough.”
“Oh, she speaks?” Cain’s voice is oily, taunting, a piece of bait to take because he is always fixing for a fight.
“Yes, she speaks and she has a name. I am Cateline Berghier and you will speak to me with respect.”
“Or what?” Cain breathes.
I stiffen, ready to tackle.
“A little thing like you going to come after me?” he asks.
Even though birds chirp outside, the room is dead silent.
“No, Mr. Wolfe. I will carry on with my life and I will pray for you.”
Cain’s forehead wrinkles with confusion, as if that wasn’t what he expected to hear. “I don’t need your prayers.” But the words are hollow.
“Sure you do. You have the mouth of the enemy.” Those simple words are like a slap on the face and to add insult to injury, she continues.
“You are a bully. A sad, pathetic man who thinks he needs to use his might to prove his worth. You may not see it, but the rest of us see it clearly and because of that, you will never receive the honor you so desperately crave.”
Cain looks like he’s going to float upstream or spit wasps, I can’t tell. “You don’t know a thing about me.”
“I know enough, and the solution to your trouble, sir, is to wipe the mud off your face and look around. You live in a beautiful place, have an amazing brother, and are about to get married. Instead, you’re stomping mad like the world owes you. I promise, it does not.”
“And there’s no arguing with that,” I mutter.
But Cateline is not done. “You could try to have a relationship with your brother, a generous, talented, and intelligent man. A man I am proud to call my fiancé.”
No stage. No lights. But mic drop.
More silence follows, especially from me.
Cateline turns, says a long string of words in French, and starts toward the door. “Connor. Let’s leave this wretched place.”
I take a long look at Cain. Where I’d once seen an intimidating, demanding, and intense man, the truth starts to take shape in the wake of Cateline’s comments.
My brother is a vulgar, sad, and lonely bully who is hiding pain of his own and has always taken it out on me.
I exhale through my nose. How had Cateline seen that in less than five minutes?
I’d endured eighteen years, plus one week every year when we do the survivalist challenge with him, because it seemed like the right thing to do.
I was terrified of his wrath, when really it’s a mask for something else.
An emptiness he doesn’t know how to fill.
“I see she’s got you trained up good. Go on then, go like the dog on a leash that you are. It’s your life,” Cain hollers.
“That’s right. It is my life and it’s a darn good one.” Retorts, snappy comebacks, and words Cateline would scold me for using rise to my tongue, but I don’t take the bait and keep my mouth shut.
Cain’s mocking and menacing laugh goes silent as I exit the cabin. I watch my back, but the attack I expect doesn’t come.
Cateline stands by the Jeep, looking like pure sunshine on an otherwise cloudy day. The tension in my muscles dissolves.
“Was this some kind of follow-up prank?” she asks.
“No, that’s still coming.” I’m joking, mostly.
Gesturing around, I say, “This was my life until I was eighteen. It took another decade, me showing my backside to the world, and being sent to reform school to meet you, and then come all the way back here to see the truth. Thank you, Cateline. I mean that.”
“Thank you for what?” Her brows knit together.
“For unraveling that—” I motion toward the cabin.
“I don’t understand.”
“We’ll have plenty of time to discuss it later.”
A dark thought enters my mind. Growing up, I never felt safe. Not until I left home. My father’s anger and pressure kept me on edge. My brother was the other half of that dull blade.
I want to say that Cateline makes me feel safe, but that’s not entirely true.
I feel dangerous. Like I might do something crazy, like I could ask her to actually marry me.
To spend a lifetime with her. To treat her like a queen.
Like my bride. She brings everything I hid deep inside to the surface in the form of feelings I rarely, if ever, let myself feel. The kind that burn so good in my chest.
My eyes pinch at the corners as I say goodbye to that part of my life because I sense now, finally, it’s really about to begin.