Bliss Series Boxed Set: The Whole Damn Harem (59 page)

I snap out of my walk down memory lane and undo the top button of my shirt, running my fingers under my tie and loosening the knot I’d made this morning. I may like suits, but ties are my downfall. I only wear them for as long as absolutely necessary.

Pulling my phone out of my pocket, I look at the screen and grimace. My phone has been vibrating in my pocket for the past hour, but unfortunately, this is the first chance I’ve had to check it. Three calls from the club, and at least four more from an unknown number. What the hell is going on? I shouldn’t be getting any calls from the club unless the place is burning down. If Ryan really needs me he calls me from his cell. I don’t feel like speaking to him anyway. I’d likely say something I’d regret and he’d go on a bender again.

And right now, that’s the last thing either of us needs.

I ring the club and Amy answers. “Throb, Amy Speaking.”

“Amy, It’s Sean. Do you know why I’ve had so many calls from—”

“Sean! Oh my god! Have you spoken to Ryan yet? Is he okay?” She’s talking a million miles an hour and isn’t making sense.

“Okay Amy, slow down. Where’s Ryan?”

“Oh shit, you don’t know? Ryan was attacked in the club today during a robbery. He was knocked around a bit, then was taken to hospital about two hours ago.” I hear her take a deep breath, obviously trying to calm herself down.

“He what?” I’m in shock. I have to be. There is no way anyone would rob the club in the middle of the damn day. That’s ballsy and stupid, and simply fucked up.

“He was beat up by a robber. There were cops here when I arrived to start prepping for tonight.”

“What hospital, Amy?”

“Northwestern.”

“Okay. Do you need someone to cover?”

“Already sorted, boss. Isabel came in. She was happy to.”

“Good.” I take a deep breath and try to relax. Despite his faults, Ryan is the only family I have left. I’ll deal with the money bullshit later—when he’s
not
in the hospital and beat up. “Okay, Amy. I’m going to go to the hospital. I’ll call by and check in with you afterwards. Get Michael to watch upstairs, and I’ll sort everything else out when I come in.”

“Right, see you later then,” she replies before ending the call.

FUCK!

My mind is spinning as I call my car service and ask for an urgent pick-up before sitting back in my leather chair. With my head in my hands, and my fingers tugging my hair in frustrated concern, I wonder what the fuck Ryan has done this time. I may not know the details yet, but I’m automatically assuming the worst.

I grab my laptop bag, shoving in a few files that need my attention and walk out the door. As the elevator starts its descent, I’m hit with the reality that my brother is lying in a hospital bed having been beaten up in my club.

But this isn’t the first time something like this has happened.

∞~~~∞

I was twenty-five and working as a summer associate. I’d been working late one night on a white collar fraud case that had the potential to make my career in corporate law when my cell started ringing. Seeing Ryan’s name on the screen, I answered straight away.

“Hey, Ry.”

“Sean, I’m in deep shit.”

My breath stuttered as his words hit me. “Where are you?”

“Hiding in an alley behind a bar in Detroit.”

“Ry, what the fuck? You were in Chicago this morning when I left for work.” My voice was restrained as I tried to reel in my growing fury.

“Can we talk about this later? Right now, I need help. I was in the back room when the place was raided. I escaped out the back door and started running. Now, I’m in an alley, in downtown Detroit with my phone and twenty bucks to my name.” He was breathing hard and his voice was shaky.

My mind was racing. “Fuck, Ry. You seriously need to start sorting your shit out. I can’t keep bailing you out. This will seriously fuck up my work on this case.”

“I wouldn’t call unless I were desperate. I’m stuck, brother.” He knew what he was doing.

Our grandfather had died three months earlier, seven months after our grandmother had passed away in her sleep following a long illness. He had never gotten over her death and literally started withering away right in front of our eyes until the day he had a heart attack in the living room. Unfortunately, it was Ryan who came home and found him, and he’s struggled ever since. It just exacerbated the problems that started when our parents were killed. Overnight he’d become a thrill seeker; an adrenaline junkie always looking for a rush, wanting to prove to himself that he was still alive.

He decided that he was going to live every day as if it was his last. In all parts of his life. He lived and loved plentifully. Every woman who caught his eye was a potential soul mate. He loved easily and he loved hard. He also played hard … and often, which is exactly what got him into the trouble in Detroit.

“Ry, I’m a four hour drive away. Even if I tried to get a flight, I wouldn’t get there for a few hours.”

“Sean, I’m in deep this time. If the cops get wind I was there, I’ll go down for this.”

“For what?”

“Don’t worry about it, it won’t happen again. I just need some money or a car or something to get back home.”

I remember my stomach tightening and feeling a prickle on my scalp at his sudden evasiveness.

“Shit.”

“What, Ryan?” I asked, my voice getting louder and attracting attention from other people around me.

“Bro, track my cell or something. Do whatever you have to do.”

“What the fuck, Ryan? What’s going on? You’re making no sense.”

“I’m walking south, two blocks away from the bar.”

A moving target. Fucking fantastic. “Ryan, I don’t have time for this bullshit.”

“Shit,” he muttered under his breath, but I heard it clear as day and slid immediately into my default protector mode. The same mode I’d been in for twenty years.

“Ryan, what’s the name of the bar?”

“What?”

“The bar where you were …”

He started panting loudly into my ear. “Big Rob’s Bar,” he replied breathlessly. I heard him start running, his footsteps against the pavement loudly echoing down the phone.

“Really, Ry? Big Rob’s Bar?”

“Listen, Sean, can you help me?” He sounded desperate.

“Why are you running?”

My jaw was starting to ache from the constant tension. Five minutes of phone conversation and all I’d found out was that he was in Detroit, running from a potential crime scene, and had gone from being worried but relaxed, to being on high alert, anxious and desperate in a matter of seconds.

I needed a vacation.

“Five of them just crossed the street behind me. Coming up fast. Check the hospitals first,” he spat out before I heard a yell in the distance and the phone being dropped. I jumped to my feet, shouting down the phone in desperation. “Ry? Ryan? Fuck! Ryan!”

All I could hear was footsteps and car noise, then Ryan shouting. “No, please! I have nothing. I’m just walking. Shit!” More footsteps, car horns, then what I found out later were three guys laying into my kid brother as he lay in the gutter on the street.

Two of my co-workers had tried to calm me down, but I shook my head at them. I looked at my watch. 1 a.m. “Ryan!” I’d shouted one last time and with no response I made the split second decision to hang up and call 911.

Seven hours later, I landed in Detroit and jumped into a cab which took me straight to the hospital where Ryan was being treated for a concussion and four broken ribs. We returned home the same day via a rental car.

That was the day I discovered my brother had a gambling addiction that led him to a dodgy bar late one night for an illegal back room poker game in which he lost five thousand dollars just before the cops arrived.

It was the first of many brushes with the law Ryan Miller was to have, and the first of many bailouts that I’d give him.

∞~~~∞

Thirty minutes in my town car and I was now in the ER of Northwestern Memorial Hospital trying to find my brother, again. Yes, it’s nine years later, but this routine is starting to get old. Even if he was attacked by an alleged robber and is completely innocent in this situation, I’m sick of visiting my kid brother in the fucking hospital. I wait for two hours, which gives me time to boot up my laptop and go through my emails and messages. By the time I’m taken to Ryan, it has been four hours since he was allegedly attacked and I’m told by his nurse that he’s very sore and drowsy from the pain meds, so I can’t stay long.

I walk into his twin room and see his temporary roommate for the night—an old man who’s snoring his head off and drooling on his pillow. To be honest, this man looks like he’s in God’s waiting room awaiting his call-up. I walk toward the closed curtain beside him and pull it back to see a somewhat battered, younger version of myself lying in the hospital bed in front of me.

His eyes are closed and I can see an impressive bruise forming over his right eye as well as a cut on his cheek. He’s wearing what looks like the most unattractive hospital gown I’ve ever seen, and he’s hooked up to a blood pressure/heart monitor which is beeping quietly in the corner. There’s an oxygen mask covering his mouth and he’s got a wide white bandage wrapped around his head. I chuckle when I get an image of Humpty Dumpty in my head which is exactly who he looks like right now. Then I realize that it’s the first time I’ve laughed in a long time which fucking sucks.

Ryan’s eyes open and he stares at me, blinking a few times before a frown mars his face.

“Hey, little brother.” I step forward and take a seat in the chair by the bed.

“Hey, big brother,” he says, his voice muffled by the mask.

“What’s the damage?”

“Physically or financially?”

“Ry, what have—”

“It’s bad, Sean.
Real
bad.”

“How bad?”

“Worse than Detroit, bad. Worse than ever before bad.”

You’ve got to be shitting me. I thought I could come visit him, see he’s okay, then go home to a nice glass or two of twenty year old scotch, but no, Ryan has put the kibosh on that plan.

The chair legs scrape against the floor as I stand up and start to pace in the small confined area. My body is rigid, and the anger is rolling off me in waves.

“Sean, they know about you and they know you’ve got money. Today proves they’re gonna try whatever means necessary to—”

“Who are they?”

“I can’t tell you that.”

I scoff. “Well, fuck. Excuse me while I sit back and let criminals come into my club and try to steal from me, or bash my brother for a fucking gambling debt I didn’t know he fucking had. Or wait …” I pause for a moment, bringing my finger to my chin mockingly. “Should I just let them take whatever the FUCK they want from me just to pay YOUR debt. Let them take MY hard earned fucking money just so YOU are in the clear, ONCE AGAIN!” I bellow.

Ryan’s eyes go wide at my tirade, but I don’t give a fuck. I’m too wound up to care about being gentle with him. I can’t pussy foot around this issue. He needs help and he needs it now before he ends up in jail. Or dead.

I glare at him and see his heart rate has gone up slightly. A nurse rushes in with a security guard at her back. “Sir, I must ask that you keep it down or I’ll have to ask you to leave. You’re upsetting the other patients,” she asks in a saccharine sweet voice.

I throw my hands up in the air. “That’s fine, I’m done.” I look my brother straight in the eyes. “I’m DONE.”

I bend down and grab my laptop bag before turning to the nurse who has taken a step back away from me and I stifle a laugh. I’ve been told before that I can take down a room— or underwear—with a simple look, but this woman looks like she’s about to be crushed.

Turning away from Ryan, I step toward the nurse who is watching my every move. I hold my hand out to her. When she tentatively places her hand in mine, I look deep into her eyes, turning on the charm that does me so well in the boardroom and the bedroom. “Please accept my sincere apologies. My brother and I were just having a heated discussion. And can you please get someone to call me when my brother is being released? I’ll arrange for him to be picked up. He can give you my contact details for payment.” And just for added sweetness, I lift her hand to my mouth and kiss it softly. “Have a nice night, ma’am.”
That
earned me a girly giggle. She’s way too young for my taste and in no way submissive, so we wouldn’t be a good pairing, but a little flirtation never hurt anyone.

I give her and the now scowling security guard a smile and walk out of the room as quickly as possible. I stop across from the door and rest both palms on the wall, my head dropping as I take in everything that just happened. My brother has fucked me over. Not intentionally, of course, but his uncontrollable behavior has brought trouble to my door. I need to think about this and what I can do about it; who I can talk to and how I can pay the debt before anything else happens to my club or staff … or Ryan because Christ only knows I’m a glutton for punishment and I haven’t the guts to disown him.

Yet.

Regaining my composure, I push off from the wall and shrug off my jacket, then pulling at the knot of my tie, I take it off and stuff it in my pocket. Feeling more relaxed, I turn to the elevators and stop dead. Walking toward me is the one woman I never thought I'd see again.

She looks up and falters before she stops in front of me. It’s like one of those movie moments where the world around us goes blurry and Sam and I stand there in the middle like we’re in a silent showdown.

One that’s ten years in the making.

Her emerald green eyes stare into mine, and her sandy-blonde hair flows softly around her face. I’m awestruck. She’s even more beautiful than when she was a fresh-faced, radiant woman with the world at her feet at twenty-two.

Samantha Richards, the woman who once held all the power and refused to acknowledge it. The woman who walked out of my life and rejected me with no explanation.

The woman who deserted me at a time when I needed her the most.

“If You Ever Come Back”