8. Reese
CHAPTER 8
Reese
I hissed as the hot water hit my body, the heat biting into my sore muscles.
All night I tossed and turned after Laurene left. Couldn’t sleep, couldn’t think straight, couldn’t shut it off. I hadn’t felt like this in years—restless, raw, like every wound I’d convinced myself had healed was splitting open all over again.
I’d gotten up at four in the morning and run.
Lush had stretched before me—the tall cypress trees on the cliffs were swaying in the breeze, their dark branches standing out against the light sky as the sun came up and covered everything in a silver mist.
Even a grueling ten-mile run didn’t exhaust me.
Why couldn’t I get her out of my head?
This place, for all its charm, carried ghosts. Every street, every view of the water, every sound of the waves felt like a punch to the gut. Laurene was everywhere here. For years, I’d wondered where she’d gone, what corner of the earth had swallowed her up.
We were never supposed to love each other. But tell me—when has fate ever cared about the rules?
How many times had I been to Paris? How many flights, how many hotels, how many goddamn conferences? I’d probably walked down the same streets, been blocks away from her without even knowing it. She’d probably been sitting in some café, laughing, sipping wine, living her perfect little life, while I was drowning.
I stayed and picked up the pieces after Conrad’s accident. His time in the hospital had been short. A coma. Then seizures. And then the stroke that took him for good.
God, I needed to hate her. But emotions, memories, and all the other bullshit were twisted in a mess.
I couldn’t forget her in my living room. Her legs crossed, the curve of her calf catching the light. That brown skin, warm and shimmering golden like sunlight, filtered through whiskey. Her presence bled into every corner of my damn place.
College was one of the few neutral territories for our families. No business deals or simmering tensions, just teenage chaos that made everything else fade into the background.
I’d been arguing with Conrad—he’d said some fucked-up shit, something sharp enough to cut deep. I didn’t even remember the words, but my fists curled at my sides, ready to swing.
And then I looked over his shoulder and saw her.
She’d been surrounded by her usual entourage, all of them laughing, talking too loud, like they owned the place. But she wasn’t looking at them. She was looking at me.
She smiled.
Not the kind of smile that came with an agenda, or one of those polished, pretty ones she used on everyone else. It was simpler than that. Softer. Like she didn’t see the mess. Like I wasn’t just the fuck-up everyone else saw.
I froze. For a second, I forgot where I was, forgot the sting of Conrad’s words, forgot everything except that damn smile.
And then, before I could stop myself, I smiled back.
I let my mind bring me back to the present. My head fall forward, the water streaming down my face as I exhaled deeply .
Laurene was too damn easy to want, too damn hard to forget.
I slammed my fist against the shower wall, the pain grounding me, but it didn’t stop the ache in my chest.
It was like every part of her was designed to drive me insane. The sharp, teasing smirk that tugged at the corners of her lips. The way her voice lingered in the air, low and warm, wrapping around me. Even the silence after she left felt heavy, like she’d stripped something vital from me on her way out the door.
I picked up my washcloth and soap, and as I lathered up, my mind flickered like a slide show of recollections. Since she left, I’d barely given any other woman a second look. Not for lack of options—a couple of nights here, a few drinks there, but nothing ever felt real. I didn’t let myself get close.
It was safer that way. Easier.
Those full, dangerous lips, the way her dark eyes could pin me down without a word. Damn, I felt myself hardening.
Reaching down, I grabbed my dick and stroked slowly, envisioning her on her knees in front of me, her pretty mouth wrapped around me, looking up with those big brown eyes watering.
Closing my eyes, I remembered her body had shifted the way her hips swayed just a little too much as if she knew how much it messed with my head.
I still remembered those nights in my car. She didn’t hold back then, she took control, every move bold, reckless, just like her. Sex with her wasn’t soft or easy; it was like a wildfire, something I could lose myself in, something that scorched and stayed with me.
Money, power, reputation—I lost everything. Except the way she still looked at me like I could be more.
I could feel the heat creeping up my neck. I stroked myself faster, imagining her bent over and spread, her pussy stretched around my cock. I used to count how many rounds it would take for her to take me to the base without crying.
Even now, I could still feel her, the way she moved, her breath against my neck. But she was always a trouper, and I’d always make it up to her by holding her thighs apart, her pussy on display for me only.
I still wanted her. Badly. I wanted to fuck her hard and fast, make her scream with pleasure and pain, my nose buried deep in the crook of her neck. Just to get the anger out. Rid my body of the final frustrations.
My hand moved faster as I thought about corrupting the town’s perfect princess. I’d make every thrust count. Until she was slathering my dick with her slippery essence.
“Fuck!” I grunted as I felt the tingling surge up my legs.
I braced one hand against the wall, feeling the rush hit me hard, relentless. My head dropped, breaths coming fast. Her image burned behind my eyes and left me raw and unsteady as my release swirled down the drain.
The day had started shit and, hours later, was going to shit again. It always did when I had to step into my parents’ house.
“Reese,” Nina greeted me, stepping aside to let me in. “Your mother’s in the kitchen.”
I nodded at her and walked in without a second thought, the familiar smell of the house hitting me like it always did—wood polish, fresh flowers, and something faintly sweet coming from the kitchen.
“How’s she doing?” I asked, glancing back at Nina. Nina had been with the family for years. Conrad had hired her a few years before the accident, and she’d stayed with us after. Loyalty. One of the rarest things in our world, and she had it in spades.
“She had a session today, which seemed to have gone well. You know how she is. Keeps herself busy. The medication helps.”
“Good. She needs that.”
“So, how’s it going with Laurene?” Nina asked, switching the conversation with professional ease as she motioned me to follow her to the kitchen. “You and her adjusting to things? ”
“It’s going.” I didn’t want to think about the engagement now. “Hey, Mom.”
Mom popped up from behind the enormous center island. Her brow briefly furrowed. “Reese? What are you doing here?” She gestured toward a can on the counter. “Stick the peaches up top, will you? And oh, what do you think about this centerpiece arrangement? I’m going to show it to Yvonne later.”
I grabbed the can, placing it carefully on the top shelf of the cabinet. The kitchen was an explosion of grocery bags and vases upon vases of flowers as if a florist threw up in here. I looked at the flowers on the kitchen island as Nina took over unloading the groceries onto the counter.
“I just came to talk,” I said.
“You could at least pretend to care. It’s your wedding, Reese.”
I sighed. “No one’s going to care.”
Mom sucked her teeth. “Fine. Don’t worry about it, I’ll handle it.” She paused. “You don’t have to come over here to talk. Just call.”
“I felt like talking in person, is that so bad?”
She moved around the island, and her hand brushed my back as she headed for the cabinet, and I forced myself not to react. Her touch was barely there, but it felt intentional, like the same way she used to straighten my tie or brush lint off my jacket before a big event.
“It’s just… Well, you’re always…” She made a gesture with her hands, her blue eyes squinting.
Busy.
It’s what she always says when she didn’t want me to stay, didn’t want me lingering around too long. It was easier for her, for us both really, to think I had somewhere else to be, rather than face the fact that I didn’t come around as much because I didn’t know how to be around her anymore.
But if things were going under, I needed somebody on my side .
“I’m here. Always. Whenever you need me.” Because no matter how much I wanted to be there for her, I knew I couldn’t undo the past.
I noticed how the skin on her hands had thinned, the veins more pronounced. I remembered those same hands pointing at me years ago, trembling with anger. When she screamed at me that it was my fault. That I should’ve been the one in the hospital bed instead of Conrad, that I should’ve been the one who?—
“It’s about Conrad.”
Her hand froze, a can suspended in the air, and for a second, the only sound was the soft hum of the refrigerator.
“We need to talk about him.”
She glanced down, biting her lip before she nodded slowly. “Conrad? What about him?”
“I’ll get started on those calls, Mrs. Ashbourne,” Nina said, gathering her things and leaving the room.
Mom turned to face the thick cream-colored curtains that hung on either side of the windows. “Let’s head to the living room to talk.”
Mom had tried to stop time after Conrad’s death.
Inside the living room, on the left wall was a massive fireplace carved from Italian marble that stood like a shrine, lined with photographs. Conrad dominated the space. His pictures were everywhere, all facing forward, as if the house itself couldn’t let him go. There were other things too—some old letters Conrad had written half hidden behind the frames, a trophy he’d won in middle school, an old baseball glove he’d worn when we were kids. There were a few photos of Jennie and me as kids, just afterthoughts.
“Do you still blame me?”
Mom froze. Blinking, she looked away, easing herself down into the chair gently.
“You killed him. You killed my baby!”
The hospital room had been suffocating, sterile, the hum of machines blending with the harsh overhead lights. Conrad had lain there, still, as if he was already gone.
I’d stood frozen, Jennie gripping my side, while Mom’s words hit me like a knife to the gut.
“You killed him. You killed my baby,” she whispered, her voice trembling with venom. “You were jealous of your brother, weren’t you? You couldn’t just behave? He would never do this to you!”
“It was an accident,” I’d pleaded, trying to make her understand. “We lost control—Mom… Please. He lost control too ? —”
“No! You hurt him! You took him away from me!”
“I didn’t mean for the fight to happen.” The words slipped out, softer than I intended, almost like a confession I’d never spoken aloud before. “Conrad… We just starting arguing like before.”
I hadn’t wanted any of it. Not the fight, not the damage, and damn sure I never wanted a plan to begin with. Things were supposed to be simple. I didn’t want to hurt Conrad. But somewhere along the way, he had become hell-bent on hurting me, and I didn’t know how to stop it.
“Reese,” she said, tears forming in her blue eyes. “I…I…I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?” The words came out sharper than intended. “You don’t know how you feel about me? Your own son?”
“Some days…some days the anger just bubbles up. It’s hard to separate it from the pain. I want to blame something, someone.” Her nails, painted a soft pink, were perfectly manicured as always, but now she picked at her cuticle I saw blood. “Losing a child is a pain no parent should endure.”
“Yeah,” I muttered, the words feeling jagged, “I get it.”
Her shoulders slumped slightly. “I know it’s been hard for you. I should have been stronger. I’m sorry for how I reacted that night. I shouldn’t have blamed you.”
I didn’t know what hit me first—the tightness in my chest or the way her voice cracked, the rawness in it, the apology. For a second, I couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.
“Why?” Mom whispered, looking at the mantel and the shrine to Conrad there. “Why did Conrad have to die? What did I do to deserve this? Should I have stopped him when he wanted to take the yacht out?”
“Mom.” I struggled to find the right words. “It’s not your fault. None of this is your fault.”
Part of me had always wondered what if I had just given up and let him have Laurene?
You would never do that.
“I couldn’t protect him.” She shook her head. “I couldn’t save him. What kind of mother does that make me?”
“You’ve always been the strongest person I know. None of this was your fault. None of it.” My throat tightened. “You did everything you could. We all did.”
I squeezed her hand gently, hoped she could feel the love and reassurance I was desperately trying to convey. I watched her face, the exhaustion and guilt in her eyes, and something inside me broke, just a little.
“I know you tried to save him. You loved your brother.” Tears fells down her face, and she quickly wiped them away.
“I’m going to do better. You and Jennie shouldn’t have to look after me anymore. I won’t break again. We have your wedding and a grandchild on the way!”
She cupped my cheek tenderly, and instinctively I leaned into her.
“I love you, Reese. I need you to know that.”
I felt my heart swell, and it was as if a dam had broken inside me, and all the years of pain and misunderstanding rushed out.
“I love you too, Mom.”
We both leaned back, overwhelmed by what just happened. I hadn’t expected that. I expected screaming, yelling, accusations.
“I’ve been thinking about the after-party, and the hospital,” I said, returning to the plan Laurene and I had concocted. “ When Conrad was in the hospital, did anyone unexpected drop by?”
Mom snapped her fingers, and a maid immediately entered with a glass of water.
“Why?” she asked.
“Just curious,” I said, trying to smooth over the tension in my voice.
Mom’s gaze didn’t leave mine, but her fingers brushed against the rim of her glass, like she was calculating her answer. “No. It was mainly family and doctors. Nina was there too, of course.” I watched her think. “Blair. Noelle McKenzie, and her parents. Mayor Castillo, of course he wasn’t mayor then. And Hollie was there as well?—”
Hollie being there wasn’t a surprise; she was Jennie’s best friend.
“Anyone else? Maybe someone surprising who asked a lot of questions about the accident or sent flowers?” I pressed.
Mom paused again, deep in thought. “Well, there was Tobias Merrick,” she finally said. “He and Conrad were friends. He came to the hospital and sent flowers. I remember he shared a little about what happened on the boat.”
Tobias? The fucking weasel. He had damn near pushed all the women out the way to be the first one on the boat.
“What kind of flowers?” I asked, the question slipping out before I realized how strange it sounded. But the details mattered.
Mom seemed confused by the question, blinking a few times before she answered. “I don’t know. White. Peonies? Gardenias? Lillies? It’s been so long.”
I leaned back. This asshole .
“Did Conrad ever mention him? Anything about their friendship? I don’t remember them hanging out.”
“After you had that argument with your father and he, um, cut you out the business, Conrad took over everything. Jennie was getting her MBA at the time. But, um, they were working together on something. A business deal, I think?” Mom’s gaze drifted momentarily. “Conrad put Tobias’s restaurant in the resort. Your brother didn’t really discuss his work with me.”
Conrad could partner with Toby, but not his own damn brother?
“No one thought to tell me that he was making deals with Tobias? Or after when I took over?”
“Jennie has always been better at handling the resort.” Mom sent me a look. “Let’s be real, Reese. You didn’t care about the business at all until these last few years.”
I nodded. That was true. “Anyone else?”
“Miles Whitmore came. That was lovely of him.” My mother’s fingers tapped the edge of her glass. “He was just concerned, wanted to know how we were handling things. Sweet boy, especially after everything with his father.”
“What else do you remember?”
She sighed. “It’s hard for me to remember those days. They’re all jumbled together in my mind.”
“Mom, please.” I leaned forward farther, my hands reaching out instinctively to clasp hers.
“It’s not that simple. I don’t—” She shook her head, biting down on her lip. “I don’t want to remember those things. They hurt too much.” She tried to pull her hands free, but I tightened my grip.
“This is important.”
“I don’t want to remember!” she snapped back, her voice trembling as her hands jerked against mine. “All I remember is pain and his body and how cold it was and I—I can’t…”
She snatched her hands from me and sank into the couch, her fingers kneading at her temples.
“Mom, take a breath,” I said, reaching out to touch her arm.
Her chest heaved as she clutched at the fabric of her sweater, her fingers clawing at the neckline like it was suffocating her. “I can’t—I can’t do this. It’s too much.”
“Mom.” I slid off the couch and onto my knees in front of her, my heart pounding. “Mom, you’re okay. You’re safe. Just breathe, okay? Look at me.”
But her eyes stayed fixed on something distant, and her trembling turned violent. Her breaths came in rapid, shallow bursts now, like she couldn’t get enough air.
I had pushed too hard, too fast.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, “I’m so sorry, Mom.”
She shook her head, tears spilling down her cheeks as her body shuddered. “I can’t… I can’t stop seeing him.”
“Listen to me,” I said firmly, gripping her hands tighter. “You’re here with me, not there. You’re not alone. Just focus on my voice.”
“G-get my medicine, now!”
In a panic of my own, I dashed up the stairs to my parents’ bedroom, my footsteps echoing loudly in the silent house. I hurriedly rifled through the medicine cabinet, searching until I found the small bottle of pills.
Maybe I was being biased. Or maybe not. But Laurene’s ex-boyfriend being friends with my brother was an issue. Tobias.
Did Laurene know anything?
I shook off the nagging thoughts and brought my mother her medication.
“Here.” I kneeled beside her. “Take these. It will help.”
Tearfully, she accepted the pills with trembling hands. “Thank you.”
I sat beside her, rubbing her shoulders and feeling utterly helpless as she calmed, the medication gradually taking effect.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered, her eyes filled with regret. “I’m so sorry?—”
“Shh.” I brought her to my side, gently rocking her as I felt the tension melt away. “Don’t worry. Just calm down.”
I think I had our first suspect.