Chapter Thirty-Two
Thorne
Ivy left Madison's door cracked open, and I push it the rest of the way. "You're both leaving me." I don't like that my hurt seeps out. Show weakness, and people will use it against you.
"I'm not leaving you. I hope you'll still let me visit you and Marley." She points to the cat curled at the end of her bed.
"Don't be ridiculous. You are welcome here anytime."
"Good." Her gaze drops to the jean shorts in her hands. She folds the shorts with unnecessary precision before setting them in her suitcase. "Just so you know Ivy's leaving because of what you did. I'm going because I won't abandon her."
"You could stay and visit her..."
"Funny how things change. Less than two months ago you would've paid good money to ship me to New York. Now you're sad I'm leaving." A small smile tugs at her lips. “Who’d have seen that plot twist.”
“Sad is a strong word,” I tease. “It’s more that I don’t want to take over feeding the cats. And you play with them. They better not expect that shit from me.”
"Don't worry, Big Bad Blackstone. I know the truth but won't tell anyone you have feelings."
My lip twitches. “I’d deny it."
She turns back to her suitcase, carefully rolling a T-shirt like someone taught her to pack efficiently.
But her smile fades when she meets my gaze.
"I have to go with her. My sister needs me.
I'm not leaving her alone. You have Lilly.
" She narrows her eyes. "And you have bourbon to keep you company. "
Damn, this girl doesn't hold back. "I haven't had a drink since yesterday."
She claps, and it is all sarcasm. "Wow. A whole day. Congratulations."
I snort. "You know, you're kind of a little shit."
"Why do you think I wanted to live with you? We're alike."
The room falls quiet except for the soft rustle of fabric as she continues packing. I should leave. This is getting too close to an actual conversation, the kind that requires honesty neither of us is equipped for.
But I don't move.
Madison picks up a photo frame from the nightstand. It’s a picture of her and her mom at what looks like a carnival. She stares at it for a long moment before wrapping it carefully in a sweater and tucking it into the suitcase.
"I don’t get it," she says, not looking at me. "Everyone keeps saying you're just like Dad. Sebastian said it. People online and in person gossip about it. Even you act like it's inevitable."
"Because it is." I’d thought I could escape it, but my return home made it clear I was wrong.
She walks closer. Marley jumps onto the floor and rubs against me, tail wrapping around my leg. "Our dad kept two separate families. He lied to everyone. He made my mom promises he never kept."
I pick up the cat, needing something to do with my hands. "So?"
"So you let me move into your house."
I scoff. "I didn't have much of a choice."
She rolls her eyes. "Please. If you'd put your mind to it, I'm sure you could have found a way to get rid of me.
" She points to the cat I’m holding. "You let Marley stay inside because it made me happy.
You invited me to swim with you even though it meant you couldn't be alone with Ivy.
You protected your siblings by taking the blame for something that wasn't your fault. "
"So I'm not as big a bastard as our dad. But I still am one. I made the deal with Williams behind everyone's back. I did the same to Ivy."
"Yeah, but the reasons were different."
Marley jumps from my arms and I lean against the door frame. "Oh, wise teenager, how is it different?"
Madison rolls her eyes at me again. "Dad would have done it to control the outcome for his own benefit. You did it to protect. To help. That's the difference."
"The result is the same. I betrayed their trust."
"Okay, yeah. You screwed up." She moves back to her suitcase, forgoing her precise packing to shoving the last of her clothes inside. "But Dad? He would have thrown everyone under the bus if it served him. He'd have let the whole thing explode and walked away clean. You took the hit."
I don't answer. What can I say?
Madison zips the suitcase with a sharp pull. “Honestly, you suck at being Louis Blackstone.”
I choke on a laugh. “What?”
She faces me fully, hands on her hips. "You feel guilty about everything. Our dad never felt bad about anything. Not once. Not about Mom, not about lying to your family, not about any of it. You? You're burying your mistakes in more mistakes and bottom-shelf bourbon.”
“Excuse me, Blackstone doesn’t even sell bottom-shelf bourbon.”
She shakes her head, but she’s smiling.
I look at her closed suitcases and my humor falls away. “And none of that makes me better,” I tell her. “It makes me pathetic."
"No, it makes you human. Our dad wasn't."
The words burrow under my skin, finding cracks I didn't know existed. The doorframe digs into my shoulder as I shift my weight. Every muscle in my body screams to end this conversation before she strips me down any further.
But that's exactly what Dad would do. Walk away when it gets complicated.
So I stay.
Madison picks up one of her bags and Marley. A flash of humor lights her eyes. "Sorry, he's leaving too."
I almost smile despite myself.
At the door, she stops and turns toward me. "Ivy's staying in Kentucky. Did she tell you that?"
My hand freezes on the doorframe. Relief hits so hard I blow out a breath. She's staying. She's not leaving Kentucky.
“That’s… she shouldn’t give up her career for—”
"She's not giving up anything. She's building something new.
She's going to start her own practice here.
Environmental law. She's already been making calls, looking at office space.
And before you spiral into guilt about it, she told me it's not about you.
It's about her. About what she wants to build.
About me. About how she loves Kentucky."
I need to hear it again. “You and Ivy aren’t moving to New York?”
“Nope,” she says, popping the p.
She's staying. In Kentucky. It hits like bourbon on an empty stomach, burning all the way down. But the weight settles back in. She's rebuilding her career because of the choices I made. She’s rebuilding her life without me in it.
"But I do think part of it is about you. Not because she's trying to save you or fix you or whatever,” Madison says, waving a hand. “But because she sees something in you worth sticking around for. Something our dad never had."
"And what's that?"
"Figure it out yourself. I'm your little sister, not your therapist." She adjusts her grip on the cat. "You're smart. You'll get there."
"Will I?"
She shrugs. "I don't know. That's kind of up to you, isn't it?"
The simplicity of it—that it's a choice, my choice—feels both obvious and impossible.
Madison heads for the stairs, then pauses at the top. "Thorne?"
I look at her.
"But try, will you? I lost my dad and my mom. I don't want to lose a brother I'm just getting to know because he's already given up on himself."
She disappears down the stairs, Marley's tail the last thing I see.
I stand there in the empty hallway, listening to them moving around downstairs. Their footsteps, a mix of their voices, the sound of them leaving. Madison thinks I can change. That I'm not doomed to be our father.
Maybe she's wrong. Probably is.
Going to Ivy right now won't fix anything. She's made her choice. I could apologize, make promises, try to force a resolution, but she's already packed and leaving.
And maybe that's the point. Sitting with it instead of trying to fix it.
I head to my office instead. Not to hide. Not to plot or fix or control.
I pick up my phone and call Bill Fischer.
He answers on the second ring, warm and expectant. "Mr. Blackstone. I've been meaning to reach out. I imagine you've heard about Ivy's departure. I want to assure you that it won't affect your representation in any—"
"I'm terminating the retainer. Effective immediately."
"Mr. Blackstone, I'd strongly encourage you to reconsider.” All his warmth has evaporated. “This is a landmark agreement. Whatever the personal circumstances—"
"Bill." He stops. "You used one of your attorneys as a bargaining chip to land my business.
I never should have gotten involved — that's on me.
But she's left your firm. You're in her past and you have no future with Blackstone.
" I let that sit for a second. "I don't do business with men who treat people as leverage. Find yourself another client."
The line goes quiet. Then, "Mr. Blackstone—"
I hang up.
Then I sit down.
To sit with the uncomfortable truth that some things can't be solved with a deal or a drink.