Chapter Thirty
Grant
I stared at my phone and willed it to do something—vibrate, chime, ring—something. But the longer I stared with no results, the more disappointed I became.
Seriously, what did I expect? I called her a baby killer and ruined one of her core childhood memories, amongst other things.
My guilt was eating me alive, and it began chomping at the bone when I realized that Kiyah hadn’t told our parents everything that had happened.
There was no way on God’s green Earth they would visit me weekly with tender smiles, words of affection and affirmation, and care packages with my favorite toiletries, snacks, and a few books.
I asked about Kiyah every chance I got, but they were quick to shut me down and tell me she was fine and to focus on myself and my sobriety.
“Grant?” I looked up to find one of the aides hovering in my doorway. “You have a visitor.”
“Who is it?”
“He initially signed in as Little Bro but was told he needed to provide identification.”
Kieran.
“That’s my kid brother. I’ll be right—”
“This place is niiiiice!” I heard Kieran exclaim from down the hall as if he’d never been anywhere in his life.
The idiot has been riding in private jets and staying at luxury resorts before he could say his first word, but is impressed by a rehab facility.
The aide dismissed herself when he poked his head into the room.
He whistled as he took in my room. “Damn, Big Bro, are you at rehab or a luxury spa retreat? I wonder how much Dad is shelling out for this place. It’s snazzy.
I’m tempted to go on a bender so I can live in the lap of luxury for 60 days—no calls, no crying clients, no courtroom bullies—sign me up. ”
“Can you not be a dick? Trust me, I’d rather be living my life instead of being stuck here,” I complained.
“Just say the word, and I’ll bust you out,” he boasted proudly, setting a box on my dresser.
“I’m here voluntarily.”
Kieran snorted and slid his hands into the pockets of his chinos. I hated him at the moment because he wore the same mocking grin our father would wear when he was about to burst our bubble and bring us back to reality.
“You and I both know Dad will nail you to the cross if you step outside this facility without his say-so. But it’s nice to know this place hasn’t crushed your hopeful spirit.”
“Fuck you.”
“You too, bro,” he mumbled, distracted by the geese in the pond outside my window.
“What’s in the box?”
“Porn.”
“Seriously, what’s in the box?”
“Porn; you can thank me later.”
“Take it with you—I don’t need it.”
“Why not? Have you been burning through the other residents?”
“Please leave; you’re threatening my sobriety.”
Instead of leaving like I asked, he collapsed on my bed, spreading his arms and legs like a starfish.
“You don’t mean that. You’re happy to see me. I can see it all over your face.”
He’s right. I’m thrilled to see him.
“Are you doing okay in here? You’re not experiencing a Happy Gilmore moment, are you?”
“No, I’m not being mistreated like Happy’s grandmother,” I drawled, already annoyed at his dramatics.
“Good. I’d hate to have to burn this establishment down.”
“You wouldn’t do shit.”
“The gas can in my trunk says otherwise.”
I rolled next to him, folded my hands on my stomach, and stared at the ceiling.
“I miss you,” I said.
“I miss you, too. The office isn’t the same without you. The Czar is running the place with an iron fist. The other day, I received a harshly worded counseling for being three minutes late to work. Three! Can you believe it?”
“Grow up, Kier; you shouldn’t be late to work. I might let you slide because I don’t want to hear your whining, but it’s a different ballgame with Dad.”
“I’m reporting him to HR.”
“I am HR. What do you plan on reporting him for?”
“I’m pulling the card,” he said jokingly. I chuckled.
“Please don’t pull the discrimination card. How’s the school bus case going?”
“A little more challenging than I thought.”
I raised a brow and asked, “What do you mean?”
“The school district isn’t playing ball.”
“They don’t want to pay?”
Kieran shook his head. “They’re not agreeing to the settlement amount and are willing to risk going to court.”
“How much is the settlement?”
“One hundred million.”
“That’s a nice number.”
“That number also exceeds the school district’s general and professional liability insurance coverage. They would be forced to dip into the school district’s already thinly stretched budget.”
“Too fucking bad.”
“That’s what I said. I told their legal department that they better figure it out, get the PTA together, and start fundraising their asses off. Remember when our school’s PTA would host silent auctions, and Mom would donate her paintings?”
“Her paintings would fetch the school a pretty penny.”
“Those kids better start washing cars and selling plates because that payout will double if this goes to trial. Their negligence cost a bunch of little lives.”
“Whatever they decide, I have no doubt that you can handle it. How is everyone else?”
“Mmmm, something’s going on with Casey. I passed by his office, and he was having some sort of dispute over the phone. A few minutes later, he stormed out of the office and peeled out of the parking lot.”
“I’d hazard a guess that whatever his issue is, it has something to do with the opposite sex.”
“Same, but I’m not getting involved. Daisy is pissed that she’s on pro bono, but she knows better than to argue with Dad about it. Nori has been the doting wife, sending flowers and gifts to Daisy at the office daily.”
“She must be in the doghouse.”
“Nah, I just think they’re in the honeymoon phase.”
Let’s hope for all our sake that it lasts forever.
“What else?”
“Ronan went viral recently and is partnering up with this fitness line to have his own protein line.”
“No shit?”
“No shit. Uncle Ant told him he had never been prouder of him in his entire life.”
“I bet that was emotional.”
Kieran nodded. “There were a lot of tears and snot. Ronan feels like he finally made something of himself, you know?”
“Like he’s proven that he’s not the dumb meathead that Uncle Ant has been treating him like all these years.”
“Exactly. He might not have followed in Uncle Ant’s footsteps, but he paved his own way, unlike that silver-eyed monster of his. Mom and Aunt Simone took off on another one of their secret lesbian trips.”
“Don’t be disrespectful,” I said sharply.
“We all think it,” he sang. I ignored him. He was being a little shit on purpose, knowing I wanted to know how Kiyah was doing. No one else would fill me in on her, and I knew Kieran was my best choice for an update.
“How’s Kiyah?” He turned to me with a pitying look in his eyes. “Did she take off again?”
“Drop it, Grant,” he remarked, pulling himself up and crossing his legs.
“You know I’m not going to. Did she leave?”
“Your funeral,” he muttered under his breath. “She’s no longer at the house, but she’s not far.”
“What’s your definition of ‘not far’?”
“She’s staying in Austin.”
“What is she doing there?”
“Uh, she got a new job.”
I don’t have a good feeling about this.
“A new job doing what?”
“She’s a live-in nanny.”
“For whom?”
“For Governor Hopeful Thaddeus Branson Jr.” I shot off the bed and began pacing my bedroom. “Grant? What’s the matter?”
“She can’t be with him!” I shouted, frustrated that she’d be so reckless.
But I don’t know why I’m surprised. That’s Kiyah’s M.O.
“Oooo, someone caught the jealous bug.”
“I’m not fucking jealous. That man is psychotic, and she needs to get away from him.”
“Yeah, well, things weren’t so copacetic with you. Do you want to know how many holes Ronan, Casey, and I had to patch up in your home?”
I scrubbed my face with my hands before planting myself before him. “Kieran, I’m going to be real with you. Am I upset that my wife—”
“Ex-wife,” he interrupted. I closed my eyes and counted down from ten before resuming.
“Am I upset that my ex-wife has potentially moved on with another man—a thousand times, yes, but it can’t be him.
He’s a fucking stalker, I know it. He was always conveniently popping up, and let’s not forget how he showed up at the firm with her phone and flowers.
Fuck! I was supposed to buy her a new phone! ” I exclaimed, sounding hysterical.
“Okay, Grant. You need to calm down before these people strap your ass down,” he hissed. He grabbed my bicep and dragged me to the balcony like Mom used to do to him when he tried running off in public. “Let’s try this again without you freaking out.”
Over the next few minutes, I clued Kieran in on my suspicions surrounding Branson. “At the restaurant, he revealed things that he shouldn’t have known, and he was so fucking smug about it.”
“What did he know?”
“He knew that Kiyah and I were intimately involved, and he knew I had a drinking problem. How the fuck did he know that?”
Kieran laced his fingers on top of his head and muttered a string of obscenities.
“Maybe Kiyah had told him.”
My eyes narrowed, “Really? You think she told the man running for governor of Texas that she was married to her stepbrother and I’m an alcoholic? Come on, Kieran, you’re smarter than that. I think he hacked her phone.”
He dropped his hands and shoved them back into his pockets. “It’s possible,” he confessed.
“He was challenging me, Kieran. You should’ve seen how enraged he was the night of the bachelorette party at the restaurant when I mentioned I told Kiyah the flowers were from me.”
“I saw it… briefly,” he confessed. “It was so quick that I told myself I was seeing things, but I saw how he was staring daggers at your back when you walked away.”
“I followed him to his car and warned him to stay away from us. Make no mistake that he took that as a challenge. Then his wife died a few hours later? No, I don’t believe in coincidences like this.”
“Okay,” Kieran said, clapping his hands together once to get my attention. “The running theory is that they bump into each other at Emerald Hills, he gets her phone, he hacks it and reads all her shit, stalks her, and waits for the perfect opportunity to offer her employment as his live-in nanny.”
“Don’t forget the part where he killed his wife.”
“Speculation,” Kieran objected.
“Speculation, my ass. She’s not safe with him,” I insisted as I dialed Kiyah’s number. I loudly swore when I received her voicemail.
“Kiyah, it’s me, Grant. Can you please give me a call? It’s urgent.”
“What should we do?” Kieran inquired when I hung up.
“Can you check on her and see how she’s doing?”
“For sure. I’ll call and try to see her in person this weekend.”
I pulled him into a hug. “Thanks for doing this. If I could, I would do it myself, but—”
“I know,” he said softly, patting my back. “But you have to promise me something.”
“What is it?”
“If we’re just paranoid and Kiyah is flourishing, will you let this go? Will you let her be happy with someone else?”
Never.
“Of course,” I lied.
He squeezed me tighter and said, “You’re a dirty fucking liar.”