Chapter 28
Twenty-Eight
Mo was having about as much fun as possible for a man with a headache threatening to take him to his knees.
Talking to Bronwyn almost made him forget that he hurt from head to toe.
He’d expected her to look at her phone and roll her eyes in amusement at the texts he knew Cal had sent her.
He had not expected her mouth to tighten as she sank into the chair across from his spot on the sofa.
“Bronwyn?”
No response.
“What is it?” he asked.
She continued to scroll. “I . . .”
He counted to thirty before he tried again. “Bronwyn?”
She looked at him. “I didn’t text my family yesterday and they are . . . displeased.”
She handed him the phone, and he scrolled through a series of texts.
Mom6:15 AM
Bronwyn Elena Elizabeth Pierce! Call me right now.
Dad6:22 AM
Call your mother.
Grandmother6:30 AM
Your parents say you were shot at last night. Do me the courtesy of letting me know you’re alive, won’t you?
Dad6:46 AM
This is childish. Where are you? The police chief assures me that you were alive and well when you left the scene. He claims to have no knowledge of your current whereabouts. He’s lying, and I’ll have him fired.
Mom7:02 AM
How could you do this to your own parents? Just up and disappear? And June says you aren’t coming in today. Have you abandoned all your responsibilities?
Marcus7:13 AM
Ms. Pierce, your family is quite anxious about your whereabouts.
I have declined to break into your house.
They are threatening to fire me. I pointed out that your home is a private residence and it is illegal for me to enter it.
They called the police chief. He backed me up and reiterated that you were fine twelve hours ago and as such, he has no cause to enter your home, nor do I.
Nathan7:29 AM
I admire the way you’ve done a runner, but the least you could have done was leave your office intact. What on earth is going on?
That was a joke, by the way. Seriously. What is going on? Your parents are acting like you’ve disappeared. I get why. You have a track record. But there’s no way you left without telling Grandmother. They’re driving me crazy. Do something.
Dad7:44 AM
When you come up for air, wherever you are, we’re putting GPS trackers on your devices.
At that last text, Mo looked at Bronwyn. “Meredith can track you. So can Landry.” He knew Bronwyn had given them access to her whereabouts as a general safety precaution.
“Yes, but apparently, my parents didn’t want to talk to my best friends. Or maybe they didn’t think about it. Or maybe they really do think so little of me as to assume that, at thirty-three, I still might disappear without a trace.”
He’d picked up on the “you have a track record” remark. These people were . . . was there a word? Narcissists? Maybe. Unfeeling. Not one mention of worry. Not one concern for her well-being. It was all about them.
He scanned the remaining texts, finding them to be all the same until the last one, sent a half hour earlier.
Meredith8:41
Your parents are not my favorite people.
They came barging into my office and demanded to know where you are.
I asked them to leave. I told them you had a late night, were probably still asleep, and would call when you woke up.
They went on and on. No matter what they tell you, I promise, I did not call Gray.
But that doesn’t mean that no one called him.
Because Gray showed up and escorted them out of my office and gave them a strictly worded reprimand that involved words like “trespassing” and “invasion” and one “will not hesitate to put you in jail” .
. . so, I’m pretty sure they won’t be sending a wedding gift.
He couldn’t stop the chuckle at that last comment and returned the phone to Bronwyn. “Remind me to buy my future brother-in-law a steak.”
“I think I owe Cal, Landry, Gray, Meredith, and the entire Haven security team a meal at Hideaway. Do you think Cassie could be hired for a group apology dinner?”
He pointed to her phone. “Might as well call them quick and get it over with. Granny won’t be happy with us if her biscuits are cold when we get there.”
“Mo, I can’t . . .” She looked at the phone, then looked at him. And grinned. “Yes. Yes, I can. One moment.”
She dialed a number and put it on speaker. Mo wouldn’t have asked, but he was delighted that she’d done it.
A gruff voice answered with an expletive followed by, “Where are you?”
She stared at it for a moment. “Dad, if you ever answer a phone call from me like that again, it will be the last time you receive a phone call from me.”
“Bronw—”
“Not that you asked, but I’m fine. I had a very long day.
In fact, I’ve had several long days in a row, and I was asleep when you reached out.
You, Mother, Grandmother, and everyone else with the last name of Pierce needs to cool it.
I am working off-site today. The Haven will manage fine, and if it doesn’t, I’ll fire the people who failed and replace them.
Consider it a trial by fire. Please pass this information along to Mom.
I’ll call Grandmother.” She took a deep breath.
“And by the way, if anyone, Pierce or employee of The Haven, steps foot in my house while I’m away, I will press charges. Is that clear?”
There was a response all right. Lots of heavy breathing and spluttering, and eventually a few words. “What has gotten into you?”
Bronwyn paced as much as she could in the small space.
“I’ll tell you what’s gotten into me, Dad.
Someone shot at me yesterday. Real bullets.
It’s an absolute miracle that I’m still alive.
And not a single person who blew up my phone this morning cares about anything other than their reputation and whether they might have to get off their rear and pull their own weight.
I learned a lot in the past twelve hours.
I learned even more in the last five minutes as I’ve read these messages. ”
“We are your parents!” Mr. Pierce roared into the phone. “We deserv—”
“You deserve nothing. Not one thing. You lost that privilege when you didn’t drag my sixteen-year-old self back from California.
You let me stay out there. You let me rot.
You claimed it was because I was old enough and I knew my own mind when, in reality, you didn’t want to offend the pervert who groomed me, lured me, took me, and then deserted me. ”
Bronwyn shook with rage.
Mo shook with an emotion he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but it wasn’t rage. It was more.
“You care about your reputation, and you need The Haven to be successful to keep it. So when I came home and it turned out I actually knew how to run a resort, you were more than happy to let me have at it. Less work for you. More certainty that everything would be done correctly.”
“Now—”
“But never, not once, did it occur to you that you should let me come home because of the example of the prodigal’s father. You know who filled that role in my life? Douglas and Jacqueline Quinn.”
Mo’s non-rage turned to confusion. Wait. What?
“They loved me. They welcomed me. They didn’t hold my past against me.
They acknowledged the pain I’d caused their son, their daughter, and their entire family, but they rejoiced that I was home.
They never made me feel like anything other than a beloved daughter and a precious member of their family. ”
Mo’s world shifted on its axis.
“They aren’t your family!” Mr. Pierce’s shrill voice screeched through the line.
“They’re the only family I have.” Bronwyn’s tone held a finality that shocked him. “Take it to the board. Fire me. I don’t care. I won’t be in the office today. If you want to see me, you can make an appointment with my assistant.”
Bronwyn hit the end button with so much force, Mo half expected the screen to shatter.
She dropped the phone and fell to her knees sobbing.
Bronwyn couldn’t stop crying. Her entire body shook as decades of hurt spilled out of her.
Mo knelt beside her and brushed her hair back from her face until it wasn’t in her eyes and no longer hid her agony.
“Shh.” He soothed and whispered and rubbed her back, and all she knew for several minutes was that her world was shattered but that Mo was there.
“Come here.” Mo stood, pulled her to her feet, and then immediately tucked her into his side before resettling on Meredith’s sofa.
She cried.
“Get it all out.”
At some point, she tried to process what had happened, but then the reality that she’d done something that needed to be done but she’d done it in the worst possible way flooded through her, and she shook with horror and grief for another indeterminate time.
Mo’s arms were warm. His chest was solid. His low, rumbling words, which she was pretty sure were vocalizations, not even words, filtered through the pain and slowly settled her mind and heart.
“I think I’ve made a terrible mistake.” The words came from her, but the voice was all wrong. Scraped and raw and hoarse, she sounded like she had a three-pack-a-day habit.
“I don’t think so.” He shook his head. “Your parents are horrible people, Bronwyn. I wish they weren’t, but they are. I know there’s a branch of the Pierces that are good, but I have to wonder if that’s because they got out of town and away from the others.”
“Probably.” Bronwyn sniffled.
“The people you’ve grown up with and around aren’t good, but they aren’t stupid either. Even Nathan texted you this morning. He claims to want your job, but he doesn’t. Not really. They need you. And people who need you will put up with an awful lot they don’t like.”
“I screamed at them. I told them they weren’t my family.”
“Yeah. They didn’t like that, but was that really new information to them?” Mo asked the question gently.
Bronwyn shrugged and when she did, the motion must have hit Mo’s arm because he released a little gasp of pain. “I’m hurting you!” She tried to sit up, but his arm wouldn’t budge. “Mo.”