Chapter 23 Presley
PRESLEY
“Feelin’ better?” Dash asked as he relaxed into the chair across from my desk.
“I, uh . . . wasn’t sick. Sorry.”
He raised an eyebrow as he took a sip of his coffee. “You okay?”
“I have something to tell you. Two things, actually.”
Dash sat up straight. “Are you in trouble? Is this about the Warriors? You haven’t seen Jeremiah around, have you?”
“No, it’s nothing like that. I haven’t heard from Jeremiah in months.”
“Thank fuck,” he breathed.
Nothing had ever come of Leo’s fight with Jeremiah.
And I hadn’t bothered mentioning to anyone at the garage that Jeremiah had come to visit.
If the Warriors cared Leo had beaten him up, they’d let it go, but Dash was never not guarded.
He had too much to lose. With Draven gone, he’d stepped in to make sure his family, me included, was safe.
“So what’s going on?”
“I called in sick because I knew if I told you the truth, I’d have people on my doorstep. I needed a couple days away because my sister is in town.”
“Your twin?”
My eyes narrowed. “How’d you know I had a twin?”
I’d never told Dash about Scarlett. Draven had known about my sister, so maybe he’d passed it along, but my hunch was that Emmett had snooped. I didn’t mind, but I wasn’t going to miss this chance to razz Dash.
“We, uh . . . damn,” he grumbled. “Emmett kind of—”
“Emmett kind of likes to hack into people’s lives, and you kind of like to know about everything he finds.” I giggled. “It’s fine. Next time, just ask me.”
“In our defense, it was a long time ago, back when you started working at the garage. And there wasn’t much to find. Just your high school transcripts and next of kin. You were boring.”
If he only knew how wrong that statement was. “Anyway, my sister is here. I haven’t seen Scarlett in a long time, so it was a surprise when she showed up at my house on Sunday.”
“You two been catching up?”
I shook my head. “Not really. She’s pretty much been sleeping since she got here.”
“Since Sunday? It’s Wednesday, Pres.”
“There’s something wrong.” I cupped my coffee mug, letting its warmth seep into my palms. “She’s really skinny. There’s the sleeping. I have my theories about what’s going on, but until she tells me, I won’t know for sure.”
I suspected that my father had been abusing her for years and she’d finally found the strength to run away. Or maybe my parents were dead, and she’d been free to leave. But the way Scarlett looked reminded me of my mother on the days when she hadn’t tried to hide her pain.
“Want to talk through your theories?” Dash asked.
“That’s okay. But thank you. It’s complicated and messy.”
“I’m always here to listen.”
“I know.” I smiled. “And I appreciate it.”
One day, I’d tell Dash about my childhood. When he undoubtedly got angry, I’d calm him down and convince him to leave my father alone, much like I’d done with Draven. For now, my focus was on Scarlett. And when I needed someone to lean on, I had Shaw.
“What’s the second thing?” Dash asked, picking up his mug again.
“I’m seeing someone.”
“Luke Rosen.” He nodded. “Good guy.”
“Yes, he is. But no, I’m not seeing Luke anymore.”
“Okay,” he drawled. “Then who?”
A vehicle door slammed outside, boots pounded on the sidewalk, and as if on cue, Shaw strode into the office.
I gave him a flat look. We’d agreed this morning when I’d left his house that we’d meet for lunch. It wasn’t even ten o’clock yet.
“Morning.” Shaw extended a hand to Dash, who shook it from the chair.
“Don’t tell me you’re making a sequel already.”
Shaw chuckled. “No, this time I’m in Montana for personal reasons.”
“The guy you’re seeing?” Dash asked.
I nodded as Shaw rounded my desk. “You just couldn’t stay away.”
“From you?” He bent low, chuckling in my ear as he brushed a kiss to my cheek. “Never.”
I met Dash’s gaze and gave him an apologetic shrug. “He’s not nearly as horrible as I thought.”
“Baby, you say the sweetest things to me.” Shaw grinned and sat on the edge of my desk, staking his claim by my side.
Dash’s gaze bounced between the two of us for a moment, then leveled on me. “He’s good to you?”
“Yes.” I looked up at Shaw, his golden gaze waiting. “He is.”
A wave of relief flashed across Shaw’s face, like maybe he’d expected me to still be angry about how we’d ended things the first time. But I’d accepted his apology.
He’d been forgiven.
Dash rose from his chair, standing to his full height, and shot Shaw a warning look. “Don’t fucking hurt her.”
“You have my word,” Shaw promised.
“Does this mean you’re going to move to California?” Dash asked me. “Because I’m not okay with that.”
“No,” I said at the same time Shaw said, “Maybe one day.”
“Uh . . . we haven’t gotten that far yet.” Before we talked about long-term plans, we needed to survive a dinner date.
Dash turned and headed for the shop, but before he left, he jerked his chin at Shaw. “Welcome back.”
“Thanks.”
I pulled in my lips to hide a smile as Dash disappeared.
“Why do I feel like that was important?” Shaw asked as the door closed.
“Because it was.”
Dash had never liked Jeremiah. From the moment they’d met, Dash’d had a bad taste in his mouth. He hadn’t shaken Jeremiah’s hand or addressed him the few times he’d come to the office. Instead, Dash had pestered me for years to call off the engagement.
That simple statement, welcoming Shaw to Montana, spoke volumes.
Maybe Shaw’s reason for coming here in the first place had been to do a project they despised, but the filming was done and the movie buzz wouldn’t last forever.
Once the movie was released, we’d forget about it. In a way, we already had. We lived in our corner of the world, far away from the glamour of Hollywood, and no matter what happened with the film, the memory of Marcus Wagner had already faded.
“That went better than expected,” Shaw said. “I didn’t want you to have to tell them on your own.”
This man. “You came for backup?”
“Yep.” He leaned down and brushed a kiss across my lips. “And because I missed you.”
“It’s been three hours.”
“Exactly. That’s a long time.”
We’d spent the night reacquainting our bodies. I’d slept in Shaw’s arms and woken in sated bliss before going home to get ready for work.
Shaw stood and took off his coat. “Was Scarlett awake when you left?”
“No. I peeked in on her, but she was still asleep. It’s weird, right? It’s like she hasn’t slept in weeks.”
“There’s definitely something going on.”
“I think it’s about my parents. Do you think, maybe . . .”
“Maybe what?” He sat on the desk again, this time facing me after tossing his coat aside.
“That maybe they’re . . . dead?” It was hard to say aloud. I had no love for my parents, but there was something, deep inside, that would mourn my mother.
Never my father.
“Want me to find out?” Shaw asked.
“Find out how? Google?”
He lifted a shoulder. “That or we can hire a private investigator to dig deeper.”
“Nah. If we want to do that, I can just ask Emmett.”
“Emmett?” His eyebrows came together. “I thought he was a mechanic.”
I giggled. “Emmett’s handy with more than just a wrench. I’m sure he’s got a background check on you on his laptop along with anything else he could scour from the interwebs.”
“Oh, Jesus,” he muttered.
“But no, to answer your question. I don’t want to know about my parents. Not before I talk to Scarlett.”
“Would you like me to be there?”
I put my hand on his thigh. “Thanks, but I think we need to talk alone.”
“I’m right next door if you change your mind.”
“This is so . . . this sucks.” I dropped my gaze, voicing one of my fears. “We used to know everything about one another, but Scarlett seems like a different person now. I feel like I don’t know my sister anymore. What if we don’t like each other?”
“It happens. Families are complicated. My father used to be my hero, and I called him nearly every day. Now, I haven’t talked to him in years.”
“You will one day.”
“What makes you think so?”
“You love your family, Shaw.”
Whenever he talked about his mom or sisters, he’d smile and his eyes would light up. And the day he’d told me about his father, there’d been such painful longing in his voice. He wasn’t bitter or mad; he was deeply disappointed. Someday, it would fade and he’d be ready to talk to his father again.
“You’re not ready yet, but you will be one day. I’ve never met your father, but I don’t think he’s an evil man. He’s not like Marcus Wagner. Marcus didn’t think he did anything wrong. He felt righteous and justified in his actions. Your father confessed.”
Shaw stared at the wall behind me, his gaze focused on nothing.
“I know what it is to have an evil father.” I squeezed his leg. “My father doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong either. He thinks it’s his right to rape his wife and beat his children. Would your father ever have treated you or your sisters that way?”
“Never,” he said quietly.
“He’s not your hero anymore, and that’s okay. But he’s still your father, and I can tell you still love him.”
Shaw gave me a sad smile. “I’m not ready to call him.”
“Then wait. There’s no rush.” I patted his leg once more, then reached for my coffee, sipping it before it went cold.
“Is Montana a deal breaker for you?” he asked.
“This is my home.”
A home I’d made for myself with a family who loved me unconditionally. A family who’d shown up on my wedding day when they’d hated the groom, but they’d shown up anyway because I’d asked.
I wanted to live alongside them. I wanted to share our lives, blend them together.
I wanted to go to Genevieve’s house when she and Isaiah had another baby and watch their kids while they took a nap.
I wanted to have Christmas dinner with Dash and Bryce.
I wanted to meet Emmett and Leo for a beer at The Betsy on a random Friday night to talk about nothing and tease them relentlessly for being eternal bachelors.
“I want it all,” I admitted. “I want you, and I want Montana.”
“Okay.” Shaw nodded.
“Okay? That’s it?”
“Okay,” he repeated. “Then we live in Montana.”