Chapter 38
STERLING
M y parents’ estate was buzzing with activity by the time we arrived. It wasn’t chaos exactly, but it never was around here. Everyone was simply at panic stations—just in a much more organized fashion than I supposed most families would manage.
All the lights were blazing as we came up the drive. Through the windows, I could see staff hurrying one way and another inside. There was always a particular kind of energy that swept through the place when the family gathered for a crisis, and today, it was running hot.
The orange glow of dusk fell across our laps as we parked and I reached for Laney’s hand to squeeze it, already knowing we were about to be apart again for at least the next couple of hours. “We’re going to get through this, baby. I promise. We’re going to take care of it.”
She swallowed and inhaled a deep breath through her nostrils as she glanced up at the house. “I really didn’t want to make this your family’s problem.”
“The second someone took a hit at a Westwood, that person made my family their problem,” I countered. “None of this is your fault and besides, you’re one of us now and the first rule of being a Westwood is presenting a united front.”
Her gaze lifted the review. “But my dad?—”
“Is family too,” I concluded before she could worry too much more about it.
“He’s as welcome here as I am and as you are.
United front, remember? I asked him if he wanted to come along and he agreed.
He wants to be here. Right now, that’s what matters.
Not whatever else is going on between all of us. ”
My mother appeared at Laney’s window and opened the door. Her blonde hair was pulled up into an elegant do that I knew to be one of her so-called “power looks.” She’d wanted to be ready to face the world if it came knocking at our door.
“Oh, my poor girl,” she crooned immediately, hazel eyes locked on Laney as she opened her arms. “God, I hate the stinking internet, but you’re safe now. Come on. Let’s go get a drink and kick your feet up. It must’ve been such an awful day.”
Laney managed a weak smile but nodded, climbing out of the car before sinking into my mother’s hug. “It’s been terrible, but a drink sounds good.”
“Excellent. Consider this your safe haven, darling. Whatever you need, you just let me know.” She held Laney for a few breaths, then seemed to notice Vincent’s car behind us. Glancing at me, she took Laney’s arm but didn’t lead her away just yet. “Who’s this?”
“My dad,” Laney said quietly. “I hope it’s okay that he came.”
“Of course,” Mom said happily, genuine warmth infusing her voice. “I’ve heard so many stories about Vinny over the years, but I don’t believe we’ve ever met. It will be good to have some time to get to know him.”
I got out of the car while she was speaking, hearing Vincent’s door slam shut behind us. Gravel crunched under his feet as he approached. I turned to see him glancing warily at the house and then my mother before he cleared his throat.
“Mrs. Westwood,” he said gruffly when he reached us, stiffly sticking out his hand. “Thank you for inviting my daughter to come stay with you.”
For a moment, Mom’s eyebrows twitched and I thought she was going to remind him that Laney was her daughter now too, but ever the graceful host, she simply inclined her chin and waved him toward the door.
“Of course,” she said. “We’re happy to have all of you. Please come in.”
She looped her arm around Laney’s again and turned to lead her into the house, silhouetted with the sun setting behind it. As they reached the steps, she turned her head to speak to us over her shoulder.
“Gentlemen, I’m going to insist that you give us girls some time alone together. Stay out of it for a while. You’ll only make it worse.”
I had to bite my tongue as my mom whisked my wife away from me—again—but the automatic surge of irritation was nothing in comparison to what Laney was going through today.
As much as it physically pained me to let her out of my sight, I knew better than to argue with my mother when deep down I knew she was right to take Laney away from everything that was happening.
Vincent gave me a sideways glance when they disappeared into the house, but didn’t say anything about it, just following me up the stairs and into the foyer. It turned out Dad was already waiting for us there, drink in hand as if he was welcoming someone to dinner.
“Vincent Rhodes,” he said slowly, his voice edged with something dry and sharp. “I wish it was under better circumstances, but welcome to the family.”
Beside me, my father-in-law stopped walking. His gaze clashed with my dad’s and his features arranged into a hard scowl. “Harlan Westwood. I thought for sure that the next time I saw you, it would be because I was arresting you again.”
Aggravation rolled through me. I didn’t need this. Not right now. Stepping between the two men, I looked at my dad first, narrowing my eyes in warning before I turned to look at Vincent in turn.
“Knock it off,” I directed at both of them. “Whatever bad blood is between you, this isn’t about that. It’s about Laney and you’re fucking grownups. Act like it.”
Dad’s brow inched up, but only for a second before he chuckled and gestured toward the bar. “Drink?”
Vincent didn’t respond, but when Dad started walking, he followed him with the kind of measured footsteps that told me he was cataloging everything he saw. He was watching me too, even as I left them and headed toward the back patio where I knew my brothers would be.
Whenever there was a problem and the family closed ranks like this, the patio was where we gathered.
Mom tended to flit around the house, commandeering the troops either within the house or outside by speaking rapid fire into her phone, but she couldn’t sit still.
That would be different this time, now that she had Laney to take care of.
Dad preferred his study. It was his version of his very own war room, and with Vincent here, I was sure they had some talking to do that they wouldn’t want us listening to.
Us boys —as Garvey insisted on calling us even to this day—we got together on the patio, in our own space where we could brainstorm, bitch, and be honest without any interruptions.
As I walked out of the double doors that led to the patio, I wasn’t surprised to find Callum and Jameson already there.
Callum was perched on the arm of a chair, looking like he’d been born with a cocktail in his hand while Jameson paced like a caged lion just begging to be released so he could tear the world a new one. They both looked over at me. Callum’s blue eyes and Jameson’s hazel ones immediately found mine.
“Is she okay?” Callum asked. “I just got here, but I saw everything online. Figured we’d all be meeting to hammer it out. First things first though, how’s she doing?”
“Not well.” I shook my head and went to the drinks cart they’d wheeled out to pour myself a stiff bourbon. “She’s not even close to okay. This isn’t just her business we’re talking about, it’s her livelihood. Her family’s legacy. Her name. Fuck, it’s her face in those memes.”
I brought the glass to my lips and tossed almost half the contents down my throat. Jameson stopped pacing to stare at me with his head cocked, his hands finding his hips and curiosity flaring to life in his eyes.
“You’re burning up about this. Like, really burning up.” He paused before he added, “I never thought I’d see the day anything got you all riled up.”
I drained the rest of the bourbon and poured myself another before I walked to the table.
Pulling out a chair with a slight scrape against the tiles, I sat down and nodded.
It was time. It had been many, many years since I’d last done this, but as I looked between them, I finally let the walls drop.
All of them.
Rage tore through me first, followed by remorse, guilt, and exasperation, and I allowed them to see it all. When I finally found my voice, it was hoarse and ragged, and frankly, I felt like all the air had been knocked out of my lungs.
“I can’t fucking stand this. The woman I married, a woman I actually really fucking like, is being put through hell. Because of me.”
My head started shaking, a strange pressure filling my chest. “Just this morning, we were happy.” I blew out a harsh breath. “We were talking about our future together. Like it was actually going to fucking happen. Like some kind of goddamn fairy tale and I was excited for it.”
The words burned in my throat. I didn’t get happy.
I didn’t get excited, but I really had been.
Admitting it was like drinking acid now that it was all gone, though.
I sighed and scratched the side of my neck.
“Then this shit storm hit us and here we are. The worst part of it is that I had no idea it was coming, so I couldn’t even protect her to soften the blow. I can’t do that now, either.”
My brothers stared at me, neither of them moving a muscle for the longest time, but it was like I could feel something change in the air between us.
It was subtle, but I saw the way they were both suddenly looking at me like they were finally seeing me.
The real me, not just the guy who showed up to fix whatever was wrong and walk away before feelings got involved.
I wasn’t sure I liked it, but it was too late now to take it back, and besides, I hadn’t walked away and feelings had gotten involved. More feelings than I’d felt before, but shit. It didn’t feel right to deny them.