Chapter 15
I find Sam about a quarter mile into the woods, standing in a small clearing with his fists clenched at his sides, staring up at the darkening sky like he’s trying to will himself calm. His whole body is rigid with barely contained fury.
“Sam,” I call out.
He spins around, and I can see the fight still burning in his eyes. “Don’t.”
“We need to talk about this.”
“No, we don’t.” Sam takes a step toward me, aggressive. “You knew my sister was hurting and you said nothing. For weeks.”
“She asked me not to—”
“I don’t give a shit what she asked!” Sam’s voice explodes through the trees. “She’s my sister, Luke! My family! And you kept me in the dark while she was falling apart!”
I hold my ground as he advances on me. “She wasn’t ready to tell you.”
“That wasn’t your choice to make!”
“Yes, it was.” My voice hardens. “She trusted me with her secrets. I wasn’t going to betray that trust.”
Sam’s laugh is bitter, harsh. “Betray her trust? What about betraying mine? I’m your best friend!”
“And she’s the woman I love!” The words tear out of me, raw with eight years of separation and regret. “I failed her once by not believing her, by not protecting her. I wasn’t going to fail her again.”
“So you chose her over me.”
“Every time.” The admission hangs between us, stark and absolute. “Every single time, Sam.”
Sam’s face twists with rage. “Fuck that.”
He swings at me again, but this time I’m ready. I duck under his punch and drive my shoulder into his midsection, sending both of us crashing to the ground. We roll through the fallen leaves, throwing punches and grappling like we’re teenagers again.
“You son of a bitch!” Sam grunts, landing a solid hit to my ribs that makes me grunt in pain.
I manage to pin him briefly, but he bucks me off and scrambles to his feet. We circle each other in the small clearing, both breathing hard, both bleeding from split lips and scraped knuckles.
“You want to know why she didn’t tell you?” I spit, wiping blood from my mouth. “Because she was protecting that bastard from you! She knew you’d lose your shit and do something stupid!”
“Damn right I would have!” Sam charges me again, and we go down hard, rolling through the underbrush.
“She loves you too much to let you throw your life away for her!” I manage to get him in a headlock, but he elbows me in the gut and breaks free.
“That’s not her choice!” Sam swings wild, catching me across the cheek. “I’m a grown man! I can decide what I want to do to the asshole who hurt my sister!”
I tackle him again, and we crash into a tree trunk. Sam’s head snaps back against the bark, and for a moment we both freeze, breathing hard.
“Shit,” I gasp. “You okay?”
“Fuck you,” he pants, but he’s not swinging anymore.
We separate slowly, both of us battered and bloody, and end up sitting against opposite trees facing each other. My ribs ache where Sam caught me, and my cheek is already swelling.
“This is stupid,” I say finally.
“Yeah.” Sam touches the back of his head gingerly. “But I feel better.”
“Your sister’s going to kill us both when she sees us like this.”
Sam scowls at me across the clearing. “So what are we going to do now?”
I lean my head back against the rough bark, staring up through the canopy of autumn leaves. “About Hazel?”
“About the bastard who screwed her over.” Sam’s voice is deadly quiet. “About Derek.”
I’m quiet for a long moment, debating how much to tell him. But Sam just took a chunk out of my face for keeping secrets from him. I can’t do it again.
“Hazel talked to a lawyer in LA about the condo situation,” I say finally.
“And?”
“The lawyer told her she had no case. Said since Derek’s name was on the deed, there was nothing she could do.” I run my hand through my hair, wincing when I hit a tender spot. “But I’ve been doing some research.”
Sam straightens. “What kind of research?”
“The lawyer she talked to? Jamison Paul, esquire? Turns out he’s Derek’s golf buddy. They’ve been friends for years.”
“Son of a bitch.” Sam’s face darkens further. “So he gave her bad advice on purpose.”
“That’s what it looks like.” I lean forward, my voice getting harder. “I’ve been consulting with my own lawyer. Real estate attorney who specializes in fraud cases.”
“What did he say?”
“He says Hazel might have a case for wrongful termination, forgery, and theft.” I meet Sam’s eyes across the clearing. “If Derek forged her signature on documents or used her income to qualify for loans while putting everything in his name, that’s fraud. Big time fraud.”
Sam goes very still. “Are you serious?”
“Dead serious. My lawyer wants to see all her paperwork—lease agreements, loan documents, anything with signatures. He thinks there’s a good chance we can not only get her condo back but nail Derek for fraud.”
“Then why haven’t you told her this?”
I sigh, suddenly feeling exhausted. “Because she was finally starting to relax. She was sleeping through the night, laughing again, getting excited about the festival. I didn’t want to drag her back into that mess when she was finally healing. I want her to stay.”
“That’s not your choice to make either, Luke.”
“I know.” I scrub my hands over my face. “I was going to tell her after the festival. Let her have one good week without thinking about Derek and lawyers and legal battles.”
Sam studies my face for a long moment. “She has no choice, you know. She can’t let that asshole get away with this.”
“I know.”
“He stole from her. Used her. Threw her away like garbage.” Sam’s voice is getting angry again. “She has to fight this.”
“I know that too.”
“And if you hide anything else from me—anything—I’m going to break your perfect little nose and then we’ll see how much my sister likes you.”
Despite everything, I grin. “My nose isn’t perfect.”
“Close enough.” Sam touches his split lip gingerly. “You hit harder than you used to.”
“You too.” I flex my sore knuckles. “We should probably head back before your parents call the police.”
“Yeah.” Sam pushes himself to his feet, then extends a hand to help me up. “But Luke?”
“Yeah?”
“Next time my sister needs help, you tell me. I don’t need the details if she doesn’t want me knowing, but you need to tell me she needs help. Family protects family.”
I clasp his hand and let him pull me to my feet. “Deal.”
“Good.” He claps me on the shoulder, hard enough to make me wince. “Now let’s go tell Hazel she’s got a lawyer.”
We start walking back through the darkening woods, both of us looking like we went ten rounds with a bear. But something has shifted between us—an understanding, maybe. Or just the knowledge that we’re on the same side when it comes to protecting Hazel.
“Sam?”
“Yeah?”
“Thanks. For not actually breaking my nose.”
He grins, and for the first time tonight, it reaches his eyes. “Don’t thank me yet. We still have to face my sister.”
We return to find Hazel sitting at the kitchen table with Mrs. Brennen’s arm wrapped around her shoulders.
Her eyes are red-rimmed, and Mr. Brennen is pacing by the window with his jaw clenched tight enough to crack teeth.
Mrs. Brennen looks up when we enter, her face shifting from concern to horror.
“Good Lord,” she breathes, taking in our battered appearances.
Hazel jumps up so fast her chair scrapes against the floor. “What did you do to Luke?” she demands, rounding on Sam with fire in her eyes. “How could you beat him up?”
“Hey!” Sam protests, touching his swollen cheek with a wounded expression. “Luke hit me too! Why aren’t you worried about me?”
Hazel’s gaze flickers between us, taking inventory of split lips, scraped knuckles, and what’s probably going to be a spectacular black eye on my part. She sighs heavily.
“I’ll get the first aid kit.”
When she returns, Mrs. Brennen immediately springs into action, directing us to sit at opposite ends of the table like scolded children. Hazel starts cleaning the cut on my cheek with gentle efficiency while Mrs. Brennen works on Sam’s knuckles.
“This is ridiculous,” Hazel mutters, dabbing antiseptic on my split lip. “Two grown men beating each other up in the woods like teenagers.”
“We worked it out,” I say, wincing as the antiseptic stings.
“By giving each other concussions?”
“Nobody has a concussion,” Sam says, then immediately winces when Mrs. Brennen presses too hard on a particularly deep scrape. “Ow! Mom, be gentle!”
“I’ll be gentle when you stop acting like an idiot,” she replies tartly.
Mr. Brennen stops pacing and crosses his arms. “Did you two settle whatever this was about?”
I glance at Sam, who nods slightly. “Actually, we did. And there’s something Hazel needs to know.”
Hazel pauses in her ministrations, looking between us warily. “What now?”
“I’ve been consulting with a lawyer about Derek,” I say quietly. “About what he did to you.”
Her face immediately shuts down. “Luke, no. I told you I don’t want to—”
“The lawyer you talked to in LA was Derek’s friend,” I continue, ignoring her protests. “He gave you bad advice on purpose.”
Hazel goes very still, the antiseptic-soaked cotton ball frozen halfway to my cheek. “How do you know that?”
“When you mentioned his name the other night, I had a PI check into it,” I say quietly. “They’ve been golf buddies for three years. Business partners in some real estate ventures. The lawyer was never going to help you.”
Her face twists with anger. “You went behind my back? I told you I didn’t want to pursue this!”
“Yes, I did.” I meet her furious gaze steadily. “And I’ll do it again. I’ll do anything to protect you, even if you get mad at me over it.”
“You had no right—”
“He had every right,” Mr. Brennen cuts in, his voice hard as granite. “That bastard stole from you, Hazel. Someone needs to look out for you if you won’t look out for yourself.”
The fight goes out of her suddenly, her shoulders sagging with defeat. “Dad...”
“My lawyer thinks you have a case,” I continue gently. “Wrongful termination, fraud, theft. If Derek forged your signature or used your income to qualify for loans while putting everything in his name, that’s a felony.”
“I don’t have any documentation,” Hazel says quietly, backing away from the table. “And I don’t want to pursue this. I just want to move on.”
Mr. Brennen’s face darkens. “Hazel Marie Brennen, that son of a bitch stole from you. You can’t just let him—”
“Dad, please.” Hazel’s voice cracks. “I don’t want to be dragged through court cases that might take years. I just want to forget Derek exists.”
“But sweetheart—” Mrs. Brennen starts.
“No!” Hazel’s voice rises. “I’m tired of thinking about him, talking about him, having him control my life even when he’s three thousand miles away. I want to move on!”
The kitchen falls silent except for the tick of the wall clock. I can see the exhaustion in Hazel’s posture, the weight of carrying this alone for so long.
“If you have the slightest proof that you paid for the condo and it was supposed to be in your name, the lawyer will handle everything,” I say gently. “You wouldn’t have to do anything except provide documentation.”
Hazel shakes her head. “I don’t have anything like that.”
“Think,” Sam says, his voice softer now. “Bank records, emails, anything that shows you were paying for the place.”
“I...” Hazel pauses, her brow furrowing. “I mean, I sent Derek money transfers for the mortgage payments. But that was just between us.”
“What about emails?” I press. “Did you ever email him about the payments?”
Hazel’s eyes widen slightly. “Actually, yes. I have some emails with receipts attached that I sent him about transferring money for the house payments.” She pauses, thinking. “And there was one where I asked him if he needed me to come sign paperwork, and he said no, that he’d handle everything.”
Sam and I exchange a look.
“That’ll work,” Sam says grimly. “That’ll definitely work.”