47. Graham
Graham
Isit quietly in an armchair and watch Travis pace the length of his office.
Ryan is already two cocktails deep, and Serena sits across the room, a tight ball of nerves. She hasn’t stopped twisting her hair around her finger, chewing her nails, or kicking her heels against the counter she sits on since she got here. Since she told us about Alex’s blackmail plan.
Mostly, I feel sorry for Ryan. Poor guy, through no fault of his own, has been sucked into the Oakley family drama. It’s not like he comes from generations of backstabbing and scheming. For him, Nebraska must seem pretty fucking appealing right about now.
Travis stops, looks up like he might say something, then shakes his head and continues his pacing.
“Serena,” I say when she twists her hands together again, “come here.”
Idly, almost like she’s somewhere else, she stands and crosses the room, sitting in my lap without a second word.
Tucking her head against my chest, she leans into me.
I rub my hand over her back just like I wanted to the day she and I were stuck on that mountain together.
Now, I’m able to offer her comfort, and I feel her body relaxing into me, bit by bit.
Like always, she smells like roses. Except now, presumably from the fast-food place she went with Bianca, she carries the heavy smell of fried food, too.
I bury my nose in her hair and try to think.
Sure, maybe it was stupid for us to come back.
But it’s not like we could have avoided returning to the U.S.
forever. We couldn’t have just moved to Italy and stayed there, as lovely as it might have been.
Serena would have missed her friends. Travis would have gone mad without his business, and Ryan needs at least a hundred looks of admiration from strangers a day to keep from expiring.
So eventually we had to come back, and it’s been enjoyable. Serena and I go to the gardens together, and the other guys take her out, too.
When Serena first told us the news, I’d turned my phone over and over in my hand, thinking I might just call him.
“Don’t,” Travis had said, his dark gaze on my phone. “It’s not a good idea, man.”
“He could be having some sort of psychotic break,” I’d feebly argued, knowing it sounded, even to my own ears, like a Hail Mary of an explanation.
Outwardly, I’m not a tender guy. But deep down, there’s a part of me that still feels protective over the brother I know—or, at least, I think—just wouldn’t do something like this.
That’s why it’s called betrayal. That’s why it’s so painful.
When a stranger hurts you, it’s almost expected. When it’s your own family, your own brother, it hits at something deeper you can’t repair, no matter how you try.
Now, Ryan says, “Hire a couple of big, burly guys. Kidnap him and have him taken to Italy.”
Travis and I stare at him like he’s insane. Serena doesn’t even lift her head—maybe she’s fallen asleep. I hope so, after the day she’s had.
Ryan makes a face, lifts his hands in surrender. “What? I’m not saying we, like, torture him or anything. We could just… hold him elsewhere until he stops fucking with our lives.”
“You’re talking about at least three felonies,” Travis deadpans, shaking his head and turning around again to continue his pacing.
After years of spending my life largely alone on the road—or in the skies—it’s complicated to face a problem like this with other people.
Maybe it’s unorthodox, but now that we’re in this strange, rectangular-shaped relationship, I don’t mind it. In fact, like I told Serena, it feels right. Like it’s what I was always looking for, without realizing it.
And Alex has dirt on us for… what? Existing? Loving Serena the way we do? Having found a woman we want to cherish? Someone to come home to. To cook for. Lavish with gifts and love.
If it were different, just one of us with her, Alex would have nothing. So our preferred relationship looks different than others… and that means we should lose everything?
“We could just pay him off,” Travis chokes out, like the words are physically painful to him. At this, Serena turns her head, and though the noise isn’t audible, I can feel her protest as a slight rumble in her chest.
“Pay him off?” Ryan asks, lolling his head to the side. “Doesn’t seem your speed, Trav.”
“Don’t call me that.” Travis stalks over, takes the drink from Ryan’s hand and knocks it back.
“You’re right. But I would rather pay him off than lose everything.
Than put Serena in the limelight to be looked at and examined from all sides.
This is about more than just stakeholders and investors.
We’re not Priscilla—we’re not going to be destitute if this goes live.
But I’m not sure I want to open Serena up to the scrutiny. ”
“I’ll be okay,” Serena says quietly.
“No, he’s right.” Ryan pinches his nose and sighs.
“I’ve had previous girlfriends get death threats for being with me.
Then imagine it's the three of us. You’ll have so many people after you—jealous women, pissed off men, righteous assholes who think just because they wouldn’t do something, it’s a sin?—”
I shift Serena in my arms, knowing he’s right about it. But I can’t help thinking the fall-out wouldn’t be so bad if we beat them to the punch.
The thought roots in my head, takes hold, and spirals out.
We could beat him to the punch.
Moving Serena again, so I can easily see both Ryan and Travis, I say, shrugging like it’s not the most insane thing I’ve suggested, “What if we just tell the truth?”