Chapter 23
Chapter
Twenty-Three
Ben tossed his suitcase onto the bed in the roadside hotel room with more force than necessary, the mattress bouncing a few times before settling.
He stood in the doorway for a moment, scanning the space that would be his home for the night.
Beige walls. Scratchy polyester bedspread.
Flickering bedside lamp. Everything was just as uninviting as his mood.
He shut the door behind him and locked it, though he wasn't sure why. What was there to steal in this generic box ten miles outside Bergen? His dignity was already gone, left behind at Kelly's condo.
You kept it from me.
Had he kept anything from her? His father was Seth Reilly, sheriff of Harper.
That wasn't a secret. It wasn't something he deliberately concealed.
It simply hadn't come up in their conversations, which had rightfully been focused on Lori Powell's case. He’d meant to tell her a few times, but then something in the investigation would intervene.
Wearily, he sat on the edge of the bed, fingers rubbing at his throbbing temples. His phone weighed heavily in his pocket. Pulling it out, he checked for messages. Nothing from Kelly. Not that he expected anything. She'd made her feelings clear enough.
I don't want you here right now.
Ben scrolled through his contacts, his thumb hovering over Kelly's name before sliding past. There was no point in calling her tonight. She needed space, and honestly, so did he. Instead, he found another name and hesitated only briefly before pressing it.
Brianna would still be up. Seattle was three hours behind New York, and his cousin had always been a night owl anyway.
The phone rang twice before she answered.
"Ben? Is everything okay?"
Her voice was clear and alert, no sign that he'd disturbed her. In the background, he could hear music playing softly.
"Yeah," he replied automatically, then reconsidered. "Actually, no. Not really."
"What's wrong?"
Ben didn't know why he'd called her specifically. Chase would have cracked jokes to cheer him up. Lulu would have offered fierce, if somewhat impractical, advice. But Brianna would understand this particular situation better than most.
"I don't know why I called," he admitted.
"Sure you do," Brianna replied. "Otherwise, you wouldn't have dialed. So tell me what happened."
Ben sighed and leaned back against the headboard, kicking off his shoes as he swung his legs up onto the mattress.
"It's complicated."
"It always is," Brianna said. "Try me anyway."
Not wanting to drag it out, he gave her the short version of the last few weeks.
Meeting Kelly in their apartment building.
Her invitation to come to Bergen. The investigation into her friend's murder.
Their growing connection. The rehearsal dinner tonight, and Kelly's father dropping the bomb about Seth Reilly's past cases.
Which were the same as her father, Logan Wright. She’d been up close and personal with one of them.
"She was furious that I never told her who my father was," Ben concluded. "That I never mentioned Dad's involvement with the Bryson cases."
"But you did tell her who your father was," Brianna said.
"Yes, I told her he was Sheriff Seth Reilly from Harper. I just didn't go into the famous cases."
"Did she ask?"
"No."
"Then what's the problem?"
Ben rubbed his forehead with his free hand. He needed a couple of Tylenol and a large glass of water.
“Her father made her feel stupid for not knowing. And then she took it out on me."
"Ah," Brianna said, understanding evident in her voice. “You were handy, so you got the blame.”
"Something like that." Ben shifted on the bed, trying to find a comfortable position. "I need your perspective on something. When do you typically tell people about your dad? About your past?"
Brianna's answer came without hesitation, firm and clear.
"Not for a while. Not for a long time. I have to trust them first. Some people never know. My neighbor, for example? Not a clue. The last guy I dated? Nope. The one before that? After about two months, and even then, I felt weird about it. The fact is, we don't owe anyone an explanation about our trauma unless that trauma is currently affecting them. I don’t give a shit about other people’s expectations.
I’m not here to entertain them with grisly stories of my dad’s, or your dad’s, heroics. ”
"I don't have your trauma," Ben protested, the words coming out before he could stop them.
He regretted it immediately. Comparing pain wasn't something the Reilly family did. His Uncle Logan had made sure they understood that early on. Everyone's experiences were valid, even if they weren't identical.
Brianna's laugh was short and without humor, instantly dismissing his claim.
"All of us have trauma. It isn't a contest. We grew up with a shadow over our homes. Our parents didn't know if we were safe all of the time. It made them parent us differently, and that made us different from our friends. You don't owe her an accounting of that."
Brianna's assessment was uncomfortably accurate.
Their childhood had been normal in most ways.
Little League games. School dances. Family dinners.
But there had always been that undercurrent of vigilance.
The way his father checked the locks twice before bed.
How his mother insisted on knowing exactly where they were going and with whom.
The code words they had in case of emergency.
At the time, Ben hadn't questioned any of it. It was just how things were done in the Reilly household. Only later, when he saw how other families lived, did he realize not everyone grew up with that level of caution. Other families didn’t live under the threat of possible revenge for sending someone to prison.
"There's something else," Ben admitted reluctantly. "Kelly and I slept together last night."
The silence on the other end of the line stretched for several seconds.
"And?" Brianna finally asked.
"I wondered if that changes things. If being intimate with someone means you owe them more information about yourself."
"No." Brianna's response was immediate and strong. "Did you have awful nightmares and terrors, waking her up with your screaming? Get the sheets all wet because you’re covered in a cold sweat from terrifying dreams.”
Ben recalled the peaceful night he and Kelly had shared. There had been no nightmares, no flashbacks, nothing to suggest that his family history had left him with the kind of scars Brianna carried.
“Nope.”
"Then you don't owe her," Brianna continued, her voice growing more forceful.
"You told her about your dad being a sheriff.
Does she want to hear all the stories? Like the time Uncle Seth broke up that bar fight the night of the big snowstorm?
Nope, she only wants to hear the juicy shit. Well, fuck that."
Ben winced at his cousin's bluntness. Brianna had always been the most outspoken of the family, even as a child. She said what others only thought, consequences be damned. It was a trait that had landed her in trouble more than once, but it also meant you always knew where you stood with her.
"You've gotten even tougher since the last time we talked," Ben observed.
"And you're still too nice," she replied, but there was affection in her voice. "Don't forget that you're tough too. You survived Wall Street and your business partner screwing you over. You're not some helpless puppy she can kick around because she's mad at her daddy."
“How did you know about my partner—” He broke off, suddenly exhausted.
Brianna took vigilance to a whole different level than other people.
She probably had intelligence about her friends, neighbors, and prospective dates.
“Never mind, I know you have your ways. Do my parents know? Do your parents know?”
“I don’t know, but just in case, you should tell them soon. It can’t be a secret forever.”
“That’s a damn shame.”
The emotional toll of the day was catching up to him. The argument with Kelly. The hasty departure. The lonely drive to this anonymous hotel. His cousin's fierce loyalty was comforting, but it didn't erase the ache in his chest.
"Thanks, Bri," he said. "I needed to hear that. I kept wondering if I had done something wrong."
"You didn't," she assured him. "And I know you'll probably apologize anyway because you're nice like that. But you should know that you don't need to."
Ben smiled despite himself. Brianna knew him too well. Part of him was already composing the apology in his head, planning how he would make things right with Kelly. Not because he believed he was wrong, but because he cared enough to try to fix things.
"What if she never speaks to me again?" he asked, voicing the fear that had been nagging at him since he'd left the condo.
"Then you're lucky you found out before you invested a lot of time in the relationship. If she can't control her own emotions, maybe she should stay single for a while."
The blunt assessment made Ben flinch, but he couldn't dismiss it entirely. Relationships required emotional management on both sides. If Kelly's first instinct was to lash out when hurt or confused, that was something to consider carefully.
"That's harsh," he said.
"Life is harsh," Brianna countered. "Look, I'm not saying give up on her if you really like her. I'm saying know what you're getting into. And don't apologize for things that aren't your fault."
Ben nodded, absorbing his cousin's advice. Brianna had always been protective of the family, quick to defend them against perceived slights or threats. In her eyes, Kelly's reaction was an attack on Ben, and by extension, on all of them.
"I hear you," he said. "But enough about my problems. How are you doing? I heard you took over the business side of the investigations firm. That was a surprise to hear.”
"I did," Brianna confirmed, allowing the subject change without protest. “And no one was more surprised than I was.
My up-and-down income as an artist was driving Mom and Dad crazy, and I have to admit, I like not stressing about money anymore.
It turns out I have a knack for numbers and management. Who would have thought it?"
She laughed, the sound lighter than before. Ben could picture her in her studio apartment in Seattle, surrounded by her paintings and sketches, the business ledgers neatly organized on her desk. Brianna had always been a contradiction. Creative yet methodical. Fierce yet vulnerable.
"That's great," Ben said sincerely. "I always thought you'd be good at it."
He hesitated, unsure if he should ask the next question. It was a sensitive topic, one the family didn’t often discuss. But tonight seemed to be a night for hard truths.
"What about the Bryson girls?” he asked carefully. "Any news there?"
"Dad keeps tabs on them, although sometimes it’s harder than others.”
"So you can sleep well at night," Ben said, understanding instantly.
"Sometimes, I even close my eyes," Brianna joked, but Ben sensed she wasn't entirely kidding.
The Bryson girls, as far as anyone knew, had been innocent victims in their father's and brother’s crimes. For years, they’d moved around, changing their names to stay under the radar. They hadn’t broken any laws and appeared to pose no threat.
But knowing they were out there had to make sleep difficult for Brianna sometimes.
Before Ben could respond, his phone buzzed against his ear. He pulled it away to check the screen. A text message from Kelly.
Brianna, ever perceptive, caught the shift in his attention.
"You’d better answer that. But don't be a wuss. This is her trauma talking this time, not yours."
Ben's heart rate increased as he read the text.
"Kelly's downstairs," he told Brianna. "She wants to come up and talk."
"Well, there you go," Brianna said. "Decision made for you. Just remember what I said. Stand your ground."
"I will," Ben promised, though they both knew he might not. "Thanks, Bri. For everything. I mean it.”
"That's what cousins are for. Call me tomorrow with an update."
After ending the call, Ben stared at Kelly's text for a long moment. Despite the hurt that still lingered, he couldn't deny the leap his heart had made when he saw her name on his screen. He texted back his room number and then moved to straighten the bedspread.
In the bathroom, he splashed cold water on his face and ran a hand through his hair. The face that stared back at him from the mirror looked tired but composed. Whatever happened next, he would handle it with dignity.
Ben took a deep breath and slowly released it. His conversation with Brianna had helped clarify his thinking. He didn't owe Kelly an apology for not disclosing his family history. But he also couldn't deny that he wanted to fix things between them. The question was whether that was even possible.
However, Kelly’s coming here was a huge step forward.
A soft knock at the door interrupted his thoughts. She was here. Ben stood, his heart hammering against his ribs. This was it.
They’d either work this out, or he’d be taking an early flight back to the city. He hadn’t known Kelly long, and it shouldn’t have made any difference, but it did.
She was different. And he was different when they were together.