Chapter 27
Tobias
“I’m not hiring her.” Trevor shakes his head. “You saw what she did at Titus and Mariah’s wedding. She’s a loose cannon.”
“Are you really gonna sit here and pretend you didn’t instigate that shit?” I genuinely can’t believe Trevor doesn’t want to hire Maren.
“She is just as guilty of instigating as I am.” Trevor thinks he’s got me, but he’s making a point he doesn’t intend to make.
“Then maybe you shouldn’t work here either.” Trevor is the best at what he does. He’s taken our company to astronomical levels. Made me and the rest of our brothers more money than we can ever spend.
But he’s an asshole. He’s uptight. Demanding. Unrelenting and needy.
And I’m pretty sure he gets his balls waxed. But now that I think about it, that rumor might have come from Maren, so who knows.
“She’s not working here.” Trevor says it like he can control that. “Period.”
“You don’t get to make the decisions on who I do and don’t hire for my team.” I shrug. “You’re not the boss of me.”
I know Trevor is generally in charge of staffing, but we each have the final say on who is hired for our divisions. As long as Titus says their background is clear, I can hire whoever I want.
“Are you kidding me?” He sits up straighter in his seat. “I can’t work with her. You’ve seen what happens when we’re in the same room.”
“Then I guess it’s a good thing you won’t be in the same room.” I stand, finished with this conversation. “You stay in your wing, she’ll stay in mine, and everything will be fine.”
And Brooke will be happy because her friend will be taken care of.
I like Maren and planned to hire her anyway.
She’s been gracious enough to give me pointers and insider information that’s helped me take better care of Brooke.
I’m already imagining the smile that will be on Brooke’s face when she finds out I’ve not only hired Maren on full-time, but bumped her up to a supervisory—
My boots freeze to the ground when I reach Brooke’s office. Because she’s not in it alone.
I look from Brooke to Maren, eyes dropping to the badge clipped to Maren’s hip before they go back to Brooke. “What is she doing here?”
Both women look at me like I’m a little bit of an idiot. Brooke sets down the notepad in her hand, concern pinching her brow. “Working. Are you feeling okay?”
“I thought her contract with the temp agency was up?” I know damn well it is. I wrote it down so I would remember.
“It is.” Brooke smiles looking excited. “She works here as a permanent employee now.”
What the fuck? “Who hired her?”
I don’t know which of my brothers is responsible for this, but—
“I did.” Brooke hesitates. “I know you were willing to bring her on in your warehouse, but I thought that was just so she’d have somewhere to go, not because you genuinely needed her there.”
“I mean…” Shit. I don’t want Brooke to feel bad, especially when she’s not panicking over the possibility I could be upset. “She’s a really good worker.”
“Awe.” Maren gives me a grin. “It’s actually pretty flattering so many people wanted me.”
I scoff. “Who else wanted you?”
“Tucker put in a bid for her to come do some sort of paperwork thing in his division, and Walker made an offer for her to be a warehouse supervisor.” Brooke smiles slowly. “I might have told them if they didn’t back off, I was going to let Copper and Bruno shit in their yard.”
My plan to hire Maren so Brooke would be happy has gone down the toilet, but Brooke still seems happy, so I’m not going to complain.
Maren raises her hand. “Can we also have the dogs shit on Trevor’s grass?”
I chuckle, because she’s going to be pissed as hell when she finds out Trevor tried to block her hiring.
But not nearly as pissed as Trevor’s going to be when he finds out all of us were going to bring her in any way. Though I think my brothers’ motivations were quite a bit different from mine.
“I guess I’m going to have to start looking for somebody to run my stockroom.” I lean toward Maren, lowering my voice while still keeping it loud enough Brooke can hear. “Is she paying you well? Because I might be able to find a little extra—”
Brooke points a finger at me, her eyes widening. “Don’t you dare. I got her fair and square.”
Maren leans my way, her voice mirroring mine. “How much extra?”
Brooke’s mouth drops open. “Are you kidding right now?”
Maren laughs, waving one hand. “Of course I’m kidding.” She turns to me, shaking her head as she mouths the words, I’m not kidding.
These two are perfect for each other. Maren would have fit in well in my wing, but she’s going to be so much happier here working alongside Brooke.
It’s probably technically where she’s most needed anyway.
Titus is going to be off once the twins are born, and it will be nice for Brooke to have someone helping carry the load of running his department.
With a sigh, I accept the loss. “What do you girls want for lunch?”
Maren perks up. “You’re still going to buy me lunch even though I didn’t come work for you?”
“Of course I’m still going to buy you lunch.” I look her over, wondering if maybe Brooke isn’t the only woman in the office who’s been fucked over by a shitty man. “I’ll even throw in dessert if you promise to get her home on time every night.”
“Deal.” Maren doesn’t hesitate. “I really like chocolate.”
“Good to know.” I turn to Brooke, unable to hide my smile at how beautiful she looks standing here in her element, growing into the woman she wants to be. The woman I’ll never get enough of. “I’ll see you—”
Her phone starts to ring, cutting me off.
Brooke reaches for it, her expression changing the second her eyes land on the caller ID. Picking it up, she manages a weak smile. “Kirk. How are you?”
Kirk is calling her? As in, the attorney handling her lawsuit, Kirk?
“I’m going to go get some”—Maren’s eyes dart around the room—“stuff from… somewhere.” She ducks out behind me, closing the door as she leaves.
I go around the desk, reaching Brooke’s side just as she sits down.
“Really?” Her eyes lift to mine. “Do you think he will just refile?”
I crouch down next to her, resting a hand on her thigh and giving it a squeeze.
“Okay. Thank you.” She hangs up the phone, turning to me with sheer disbelief making her features slack. “Matt dropped the lawsuit.”
“He just dropped it? Out of nowhere?” That doesn’t sound at all like the man I’ve learned to hate. “Does Kirk think he’s up to something?”
“Kirk said he could technically file again if he wants to, but it doesn’t make sense to drop the lawsuit just to file it again.” She rubs her lips together, scooting toward me. “Do you think maybe he just decided it wasn’t worth it?” She sounds so hopeful.
I want to be hopeful too, but this feels too easy. Too out of character for a man who spent years breaking Brooke down so he could control her. Then waited to file a lawsuit, making it seem like a calculated move.
Which means this could be too.
“I think we’ll find out.” I take her hand. “And whatever it is, we’ll deal with it.” I want her to see us as a team. I want her to think of me as her partner. The person she can always count on.
But I know that’s scary for her. Terrifying to consider giving up any of her autonomy.
And I want to be patient—I will be patient—but that patience has been harder to come by since watching her walk down the aisle at Titus and Mariah’s wedding.
Because now all I can think about is what it will take to have her walking down an aisle toward me.
“What in the hell is all this?” I step out onto my porch, looking over the stacks of boxes piled across the planks. Grabbing one, I squint down at the address label, looking for some clue to tell me what all this shit is.
But the boxes aren’t for me.
They’re for Brooke. And they were shipped from California.
“What did you order?” Brooke comes out behind me, brows pinched together as she takes it all in. “Don’t tell me those are pool toys for the twins. We talked about this. You know they aren’t going to be able to swim until next summer.”
Fuck. I was hoping she’d stay inside while I figured out what in the hell to do with all this. I don’t know what’s inside the heavy-duty moving boxes, but if they’re from who I think they’re from, it’s nothing good.
Brooke steps up to one, her eyes going straight to her name before bouncing to the sender’s address. “Oh.” She slowly looks over the collection, her shoulders slumping more and more with each passing second.
She’s been doing so well. Been moving forward by leaps and bounds. There are still days where she’s jumpier than others and times where she struggles to be assertive, but they’re happening less and less.
And if that fucker sets her back, I’m going to take these boxes to California and personally shove each and every one right up his ass.
I’m sure Matt hated having to drop that lawsuit. I bet it drove him out of his mind to give up. I should have expected—and on some level did—that wouldn’t be the end of it.
But I didn’t see a porchful of cardboard boxes filled with unnamed items coming.
Brooke holds out a hand. “Give me your knife.”
“Are you sure you want to do this?” I shake my head. “You can’t put the shit back in the horse.”
Brooke gives me a hint of a smile. “Words of wisdom from Tobias Bradshaw.” She wiggles her fingers. “And I’m sure. I want to see what’s inside them.”
I don’t know that I do, but I’m certainly not letting her do this on her own.
Instead of giving her my knife, I pull it from where it’s clipped in my pocket, flipping the blade open before grabbing the closest box and slicing through the tape. If he did something fucked-up, like shipping explosives, she’s not going to be the one who loses fingers.
Before opening the flaps, I turn to her. “Step back. Just in case.”
“What do you think is in there?” Instead of doing as I ask, Brooke steps closer, one hand reaching out fast as lightning, gripping one of the sliced open sections and flipping it open. “And why the heck do you think I’m gonna let you deal with it while I stand over in the corner?”
Nothing crazy happens when she yanks at the cardboard, so I move the other side, peering in at the contents.
I’m not sure what I’m looking at.
At first, I assume the tiny bits are packing material, so I pick the box up, planning to shift it around since I don’t want to stick my hand inside. But the thing is light as a feather. Almost like the confetti sized scraps are all that’s in it.
While I’m too big of a chicken to reach in the box, Brooke isn’t. She scoops up a handful of the contents, staring down at it, her expression pinched. “It’s all my pictures.” She moves around what I can now see is tiny shreds of photographs. “They must have been put through a shredder.”
She drops the handful back in, picking up the box and moving it to one side. “Open this one, please.”
I do what she asks, even though it hurts me to know it’s going to hurt her. This one contains documents. They’re not easy to identify because they’ve been put through the same shredder as her pictures, but it seems to be things like diplomas and report cards.
The next box is bigger items. Shredded stuffed animals. Clothing that’s been ripped to pieces. Maybe a blanket or two.
I continue cutting boxes open, my anger rising more and more with each piece of Brooke’s life that fucker has destroyed.
Erased.
By the final box, my jaw is clenched so tight it starts to ache. This one is the smallest of the bunch, and I hope to God whatever’s in here isn’t important, because it might push me over the edge.
I open it up to find another box inside, this one smaller and decorative.
I’m shocked it’s not damaged, so I hold my breath as I reach in to lift off the lid, concerned this might be what lands me in the same state as dead Dan.
But there’s no explosion as I remove the top. Like the outer box, the contents inside are weirdly undamaged. I reach in and pull out a dehydrated and decrepit rose, lifting it up, brows raising in question.
Brooke gently takes it from me, her lips curving into a small smile as she looks down at it.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m happy she no longer looks ready to cry, but how is anything Matt sent her making her smile?
“Remember this?” She holds the mummified flower carefully. “You brought me this on our first date.”
I don’t remember it. And I thought I remembered everything about the time Brooke and I spent together.
She reaches into the box, this time pulling out movie tickets from our second date. Then there’s the card I gave her on her birthday. A note I left on her windshield one night.
And at the very bottom is a pack of Pop-Tarts still in the foil.
“Please don’t tell me those are the Pop-Tarts I threw at your head.”
Brooke gives me a grin. “These are absolutely the Pop-Tarts you threw at my head.” She reaches in, picking them up. But instead of pulling them free, she goes still, eyes focused on the spot just beneath them.
There’s one more note left inside, but this one isn’t from me.
It’s written in big bold letters that are impossible to miss.
WHORE
Brooke stares at it a second longer before dropping her eyes to the ground.
I step close. “Don’t let him drag you back down. He doesn’t deserve—”
“This stuff isn’t from Matt.” Brooke’s eyes lift to my face, her mouth curved in a sad smile. “It’s from my parents.”