Chapter 30
Roman
August’s entire body vibrated with rage as he stared at the hollow shell that Hearthstone Security had become. We all stood out in the freezing cold, snow crunching under our boots, the air sharp enough to sting my lungs.
The building looked wrong. It was gutted and blackened.
The windows were blown out, and the roof sagged in places where the fire had chewed through beams that had taken years to put up.
August was a few feet behind the wreckage, his arms folded across his chest, jaw locked like he held himself together by sheer force.
Fox was at his side, with his hands shoved deep into his coat pockets, but even he, usually so controlled and unreadable, had fury burning in his eyes. Reid and Graham were there too, though they seemed more exhausted than angry, like this was one more thing piled onto too many others.
I tried not to shift uncomfortably at all their reactions to what was left of Hearthstone. They had trusted me to watch over the place while they were gone, and I’d let them down. The loss devastated me as well.
They might be the ones who had worked there every day, the ones who had built the business from the ground up. But I had helped Dad fix up the old outbuilding when they first decided to turn it into office space. I might not have worked here the way they did, but I’d bled into these walls too.
“We think the structure might be salvageable,” I told August, thankful that my voice was steady.
He looked away from the building, making a disgruntled noise in the back of his throat. “We are going to end that goddamn monster,” he muttered, talking about Amos.
I hadn’t wanted to bring them out here to see it like this, but they’d insisted. They wanted to see the damage before we talked about the plan going forward. Maybe they were right. Maybe standing in the ruins made it real in a way no report ever could.
I stepped forward and clapped a hand on August’s shoulder, feeling the tension wound tight under my palm. “We will make him pay,” I assured him. “In time. For now, let’s get inside and talk this through.”
August didn’t move at first. He kept staring at the building like he could will it back into existence.
Finally, Fox shifted and glanced at his twin. “Come on,” he said evenly. “Let’s go.”
August’s eyes lingered on the charred frame for another long second before he gave a short nod.
We turned and started back toward our childhood home, but someone grabbed hold of my shoulder, stopping me.
I frowned, glancing back at Graham.
“Can I talk to you for a minute?” he asked.
August, Fox, and Reid hesitated, too, but I waved them on.
“We’ll catch up,” I told them.
When our brothers were out of earshot, I turned to Graham. My spine was rigid, though I had been trying my damn best to cover up the anxiety that had been coursing through me.
Graham noticed things most people didn’t. He was always reading people, dissecting their emotions and the reason behind their actions. It was what made him so good at his job as a forensic psychologist.
“You going to tell me what’s going on?” Graham asked.
“With what in particular?” I challenged.
“Palmer.”
I narrowed my eyes. “What about her? She’s my nanny.”
He shot me a look that said he wasn’t buying it. “A nanny doesn’t sacrifice everything, including her job, to run into the middle of danger. It’s obvious she cares for you.” He tilted his head. “Do you care for her too?”
My shoulders slumped. I didn’t know what to tell him.
Needing to think, I stared off to the side, the cold air making my nose run. I sniffed. “It’s complicated.”
“It’s been a long time, Roman,” Graham continued, his voice soft with cautious understanding. “It’s okay if you like her.”
I let out an empty laugh. “No,” I shook my head, “I’m not sure that it is.”
How did I begin to explain the mess that was Palmer and me? Where did I even start?
“What do you mean by that?”
I forced myself to refocus on my brother. His expression was mostly neutral, but there was a sliver of confused curiosity.
I thought about lying, of telling him I didn’t want her so bad I was weak in the knees. He would be able to tell, though. He could sense a lie.
Inhaling the sharp winter air, I told him the truth. He remained very still as I recalled the night of the dorm fire, how I had left Jess alone to go help. It all spilled out, my guilt and shame for leaving, and my confusion about knowing that Palmer was a woman I had saved.
When I was done, I was exhausted. I pushed a hand through my hair and my forehead was damp with sweat despite the cold.
Silence stretched.
Then Graham exhaled slowly. “Roman,” he said quietly, “you didn’t leave Jess for Palmer.”
I gritted my teeth. Hearing the words out loud stung like a lash across the face.
“You responded to a fire,” he continued. “You did your job, and Jess understood that. She told you to go.”
“I know that,” I muttered.
“Do you?” Graham asked. “Because it seems like you’re turning that night into something that it wasn’t.”
I shifted on my feet, hands clenching into fists so hard my knuckles cracked.
Graham reached out and squeezed my shoulder. I leaned into his firm hold, needing something to ground me.
“Palmer didn’t cause the fire,” Graham said. “And caring about her now doesn’t mean you failed Jess, even back then.”
I looked up at the sky. It was a dark shade of blue, between the thick gray clouds that covered the sun. My vision swam with tears that I fought, willing them to sink back into my skull.
“It feels like it does,” I admitted, my voice cracking.
His hand tightened on my shoulder. “I know,” he said. “But feeling something doesn’t make it true. If you would’ve stayed at the hospital, Jess still would’ve died. There’s nothing you could have done.”
My chest hitched. I couldn’t speak.
“Jess was your wife. She was Hailey’s mother. Nothing will change that.” He paused. “But Palmer doesn’t become wrong just because she came after.”
The clouds above shifted, exposing a ray of sun that warmed my face.
“You are allowed to miss Jess,” Graham said, softer now. “You’re allowed to grieve her. And you’re also allowed to care about someone else.”
I dragged a hand over my mouth.
“It doesn’t erase what you had,” he said. “And it doesn’t dishonor her. You don’t have to keep punishing yourself forever just because life was cruel to you.”
I lowered my chin, finally facing my brother. His words settled somewhere deep. They weren’t enough to fix what had been twisted up inside me, but enough to make something shift, to loosen the knot a little.
“Thanks.” My voice was low and rough.
Graham gave a half smile, but there was still some worry in his expression. “I’m always here for you.”
I nodded. “I know.”
We lingered in the yard for a while longer as I collected myself and stored his words into my heart, where I’d hoped they’d stay.
When I was composed and ready to face everyone back at the house, I turned. “Let’s go.”
When we walked in through the back door into the kitchen, warmth and the smell of breakfast wrapped around us. Palmer stood at the stove, carefully flipping bacon with a pair of tongs. She already had a mountainous platter of scrambled eggs sitting beside the almost full bacon one.
I scowled at her, immediately going to her side. The conversation with Graham was pushed to the back of my mind as I gently plucked the tongs out of her bandaged hands.
“I told you, you didn’t need to make breakfast.”
She glared back at me. “I’m fine.” She rolled her eyes. “Besides, the doctor said it’s good to move my fingers and hands. It’s important so the skin heals correctly,” she huffed.
But I didn’t let her take her place back at the stove. “Go sit at the table.”
Palmer pursed her lips, but didn’t argue. I should’ve known the moment I told her not to cook that it was futile.
Taking care of people was stitched into her DNA.
Reid let out a low whistle. “It smells amazing. I’m starving.”
“Grab a plate,” I said, watching the last couple pieces of bacon so they didn’t burn.
“The eggs are from a carton,” Palmer said, as if she hadn’t done enough. “I can’t really crack eggs with my hands, so I hope that’s all right.”
I turned around and shot my brothers a glare that said if any one of them complained, they’d have to deal with me. Lucky for them, they didn’t.
I pointed my tongs at Palmer. “Sit your ass down, Golden,” I warned playfully.
She sighed, grabbed her tea, and sat down.
Satisfied, I turned back to the bacon, that was definitely done cooking, and removed them from the pan. With that, everyone grabbed a plate and loaded them up with food.
I served Palmer before I got my own, and when I sat down, Graham gave me a look—one of those quiet, knowing looks he’d perfected over the years—but he didn’t say anything as he took a bite of his eggs.
August sat down a little stiffly, tension still riding his shoulders, but he forced a smile when he glanced at Palmer. “I, for one, am glad that we brought her with us,” he said as he stared down at his plate.
The rest of the guys followed suit by thanking Palmer.
Fox took a bite of his eggs, chewed thoughtfully, then nodded once. “This is really good. I would’ve never guessed they weren’t fresh.”
Color crept up Palmer’s neck as she stared down into her tea, seeming faintly flustered. “I’m glad you guys are enjoying it.” She seemed almost embarrassed by the praise.
“I’m glad my brother has had you here with him,” Graham added.
Palmer nodded, but didn’t respond.
We drifted into quiet, half-mumbled small talk while we finished eating. Forks scraped plates, coffee was poured, and the normal sounds of a kitchen felt almost too ordinary compared to the blackened skeleton of Hearthstone standing out in the cold.
August leaned back in his chair, the wood creaking under his weight. The tension that had followed him in from outside hadn’t eased, but he was getting better at hiding it.