No Turning Back (15 page)

“You knew I would be here. It’s dinner night.” And then there was the part where he left a message demanding her presence.

“Before we get to that, what’s happening with the Hanover boys?”

The priorities hadn’t changed. Revenge over family time. She couldn’t go there. “Can we just eat?”

“You’ve had plenty of time to set your plan in motion. I told you there is a ticking clock here and I need details.”

Her dad stood in the hallway, not moving or inviting her to the kitchen. She thought about brushing past him but he’d set up in his warrior stance, taunting her.

After everything that had happened, all she’d lost—things she didn’t even know had become so important, like Declan—the idea of fighting with her dad wiped out the rest of her energy. Exhaustion crept over her and her muscles turned to jelly.

With nothing else to lose, she asked the question sure to tick her dad off. “What if they aren’t like Charlie?”

Her dad shook his head as he turned and walked away from her down the hall to the kitchen. “I knew you couldn’t handle this.”

“Gee thanks, Dad.”

“You get sucked in, believe in people. Take that friend of yours. Mallory whatever her name is.”

That got Leah moving. She rushed down the hall and pivoted to stand in front of him. “Don’t. You don’t get to talk about her. Ever.”

Mallory was sacred in Leah’s mind. Her loyalty absolute. Leah had walked into that dorm room all those years ago and spotted Mallory. She’d looked tough but the first words out of her mouth were about an ice cream run, and Leah knew everything would be okay. They laughed together. Cried together. Watched boys, made fun of popular girls and got dumped.

Through all the pain and loss, the one person Leah could lean on for emotional support in this world was not the blood relative who loved her the only way he could manage, but Mallory. She was the family Leah created and could always count on. Anyone who put Mallory down earned Leah’s automatic hatred.

Leah’s father waved his hand in dismissal. “She holds you back. Has since college.”

“People in this town love her.” More importantly, Leah did, but that never mattered to her dad.

“Enough about her. The waitresses at the diner are feeding that Hanover character instead of kicking him out. I want to know why.” Her dad grabbed two dishes from the middle shelf and banged them together as he put them on the table.

The talk of food brought the homey smells rushing through Leah’s senses. Roast beef and potatoes. She’d bet money on the combination, which was one of her dad’s favorites.

“I’m guessing some people don’t know the Charlie connection and others don’t care.”

The silverware and glasses hit the table next. “Of course they do. I told everyone I could think to tell.”

Her last hold on hope snapped. “What good does that do?”

“Those Hanovers need to know they’re not welcome.”

She balanced her hands on the table and leaned across to face him. “Dad, listen to me.”

“Never mind. Your chance is over.”

Just as she built up to argue, he sent her in another direction. At his words a wave of panic crashed over her. “What does that mean?”

“I warned you back in your office.”

“Tell me what you’re saying.”

“Clay found another way. A faster, and I would guess more successful, way.” The knife slid out of the woodblock and clanged against the counter before her dad opened the refrigerator door in search of something.

None of the movements registered. Not when something so desperately important hung out there. “What are you planning?”

“Enough of this talk.” He dumped a tub of spreadable butter on the table. “It’s time to eat.”

She’d never be able to chew, let alone swallow. “Dad, what did you do?”

“What you should have done. Fixed this.” He handed a bowl to her.

She couldn’t see or smell what was in it. “How?”

“That’s not your worry.”

“Tell me or I’m leaving.”

The pan with the roast cracked against the table when he put it down too hard. “You’d pick that middle boy over your own father?”

All those years of training slammed into her. She was an adult and she had to take responsibility for her bad choices, but just once she wanted her dad to admit he’d misfired and messed up so much. “His name is Declan, Dad. Declan. He’s a grown man and he’s not Charlie. Declan hasn’t done anything wrong.”

Her dad’s face flushed red. “If you really believe that, get out.”

“What?” She set the bowl down slowly, careful not to crush it in her hands though she was tempted to do it.

“You heard me.”

He could be on the verge of a heart attack. She didn’t want to leave until they talked it through. “Because we disagree?”

“Because you forgot who you are and what happened in this town!” The floors rattled from his yell. “When you remember again, you can come back in. Until then, out.”

“I was only saying—”

He used the knife to point the way to the front door. “Now.”

He was in that mood. There would be no way to move him. She had to double back and hope for a second of reasonable thinking.

The losses piled up until she was surprised her legs held her. “I’ll call you later.”

“Don’t bother.” He turned back to the oven, effectively ignoring her.

As with almost every other time in her life, rather than fight with him she conceded. She had so many wounds at this point she half expected to see blood on the floor. Forcing her legs to move, she walked back the suddenly mile-long hall to the front door. She glanced back one last time to see her dad sitting down to dinner on his own.

She waited until she was outside to call Clay to come keep her dad company.

Chapter Fifteen

Declan had gotten up at five and started ripping apart the bookcases in the library. The room smelled damp and musty, like no one had opened the door for a decade. Walking around now was only possible because he whacked on the painted-shut windows until he got them open. The cool morning breeze swept the room but he barely felt it. Short sleeve tee or not, he was numb and he only had one person to blame for that.

He hadn’t slept ten minutes in the two nights since the showdown. He skipped the usual cold shower that came with thinking about Leah each night since they met because her bedroom betrayal had burned the need right out of him. Her face played in his mind but that came from his anger. No way was he still stuck on her. That pathetic loser was long gone.

He grabbed an armful of books off the shelf and dumped them on the floor. The hardcovers thudded and a puff of dust had him coughing. Clearly Sophie had skipped this room more than once.

“Who pissed in your cereal?” Callen asked the question as he walked into the room eating a bowl of his own.

“Not today, Callen.” With a quick look at his watch to confirm the time, Declan went back to his book-throwing. The slams and bangs relieved some of the tension thumping in his brain.

Three hours of moving and shifting things around and he didn’t feel one ounce better. Leah refused to leave his head, and that pissed him off all over again.

Beck came in, nursing his coffee mug, and dropped down on the leather ottoman right next to Declan’s book piles. “You know saying stuff like that only makes it more likely Cal will keep bugging you, right?”

Declan wanted all the chatter to stop. “Nice of you two to finally wake up and come in here. We’re supposed to be going through all this crap. There are three floors of it, so a little less talking and a lot more working would be good.”

“When did you get elected boss over this process?” Callen stepped over an upturned box and kicked two pillows with huge birds on them on his way to the arm of the sofa.

Looked like his brothers were in the mood to sit. Declan figured he’d have to get out of bed before five from now on if he wanted a few hours of peace. “When I came up with the idea of keeping this place, I anointed myself king.”

“No ego issue there,” Beck mumbled right before he took a long drink. “We’ve let you mope around for two days, hoping you get over whatever happened. I guess we’re to assume that’s not going to happen?”

“Lawyers.” Callen shook his head. “Just say ‘what the fuck is wrong with you’ and skip all the fancy words.” “You know, I’m happy to do this alone if you girls would like to go into the hall and work this out.” Declan tried to identify the lump in the shadows in the corner. He leaned over and tugged on the heavy dark purple curtains to let more light in and get a better look at yet another stack of old books. Callen let out a sound somewhere between a growl and a yell. “Damn, just sleep with Leah and stop acting like a kicked dog.”

“Is that what this is?” Beck’s mug stopped halfway to his mouth. “You still haven’t done the deed?”

They were both staring at Declan now but Callen continued to take the lead in the unwanted interrogation. “Yeah, why is that, Declan?”

A guy could only take so much. He chucked the heavy owl bookend in his hand back into the shelves and winced when the one side fell and everything on it went sliding. “Shut. The. Fuck. Up.”

Beck shot Callen a knowing look, complete with raised eyebrow and a stupid smirk. “This sounds bad.”

“Enough with the cleaning.” Callen stood up and caught Declan’s arm before he could throw something heavier.

“Yeah, well. It has to be done.”

“Later. Tell us what happened.”

“Nothing.” When Declan reached for another book, Callen got there first and snatched it away.

“Oh, I’m thinking something.” He tucked the volume under his arm. “What about you, Beck?”

“Something very not good.”

Declan let the groan of frustration rumbling up his throat come out. He wiped his hands over his face as he fell down on the sofa and dropped his head back against the cushions. The choking dust enveloped him a second later. “You should both be happy since I finally listened to your warnings.”

“While I like the thought of being right, I’m unclear what topic we’re on here.” Callen resumed his seat on the sofa’s arm and finished off his cereal.

“Leah wants us gone. Seeing her in the first place, even though it never went anywhere, was a mistake.” That was a damned lie. It went right up to the edge, right to the point where he got what he wanted. Only her games and over-the-top stalker crap stopped him.

If they’d moved to her couch or he’d let the first time be up against the wall, he might still be oblivious to the web she wove behind the scenes. Knowing the truth was better but tell that to the stabbing pain in his gut.

“I thought you two were figuring things out,” Cal said.

“It’s over. Way fucking over.” Declan refused to say anything else or even think about the whiteboard. The vision kept flashing in his brain and his brothers didn’t need that. Hell, Declan thought, he didn’t need that.

“There it is. He’s pissed because they reached the end.” Beck rested his elbows on his knees and dropped his head. The shaking started next. It wasn’t taking him long to work through the entire male it’s-over sympathy protocol.

Callen being Callen, he didn’t accept the news as given. “You’re saying she dumped you?”

“No.” Declan refused to say anything of the sort. He had his pride. Sure, it had all gone to hell but that didn’t mean he would play the willing victim here. He walked out on his terms.

“You seemed pretty into her up until a few days ago. You’d blow out of here drenched in cologne and whistling, like a dude ready for hot sex. What happened between now and then?”

Sometimes Declan wished Callen were a little less in tune with people. He inherited or learned Charlie’s ability to read emotions and situations. A great skill, maybe, but an annoying advantage in brother-to-brother arguments. “Something that’s none of your damn business, or do you need me to beat that answer into you?”

“You’re welcome to try, or if you just need to hit something I’ll volunteer.”

Beck laughed. “Do it, Declan.”

The offer proved tempting because the idea of pummeling something sounded good, but not a person and certainly not Callen, who had a good twenty or so pounds and two inches on Declan. “I don’t want to talk about it or think about her.”

“Can whatever this is be fixed?” Cal asked.

“Why do you care?” Declan closed his eyes, hoping to shut down the headache and quiet the white noise. He opened them again when the silence stretched out.

Callen started to say something then stopped. When he started again, the voice, the stiff shoulders, all of it screamed how serious he was. “Because if I unload on her, tell you what I really think, and you then sneak back into her bed, you’ll turn on me for being all mean and shit to your woman.”

Of all of them, Cal was the least extroverted. Hearing anything that sounded like a male code coming from him struck Declan as out of place. He lifted his head and watched Callen, trying to assess his mood. “Since when are you an expert in male bonding?”

“Am I wrong?”

“Look, it didn’t work out.” Declan stood up and went back to the bookshelves. Work was the answer. “Moving on.”

“Not to side with Cal on this, but you don’t look like a guy who’s okay with finding a new bed partner.”

Two against one. Just perfect. “Yeah, well, women aren’t exactly lining up in this town to date me.”

“When did you search for another woman? Looked to me like you locked eyes on Leah and you were done.”

Beck was right. That didn’t mean Declan was going to admit it or agree. “This conversation is over.”

“Okay, moving off Leah for a second.” Cal leaned over and set the empty cereal bowl on the table next to the sofa.

About fucking time
. “That would be a good idea.”

“Have the house plans changed?”

Declan twisted, his gaze going to Callen’s at the unexpected question. “Why would they?”

“Come on, Declan. I know you’re in full-on sulk mode, but at least be honest that part of the lure of staying here was the direct access to Leah’s bedroom.”

The one room he didn’t want to think about at the moment. The memories rushed back on him. The big bed. The soft scent of coconut in the air that he recognized from her hair and guessed came from shampoo. And then there was the damn whiteboard. He couldn’t forget it or that it looked like it should be in a police station for a murder case. “This house and our last name have always been a roadblock not a greenlight when it comes to Leah.”

Beck sat up straight. “I still can’t tell what’s going on with your relationship.”

“It’s easy,” Callen said. “Declan figured out her plan, whatever it is. He thought it wasn’t a big deal at first, that he could work around it, but now he knows differently.”

Cal’s guess, if that’s what it was, skidded way too close to the truth. It was hard enough for Declan to deal with it. Opening the door and letting Callen and Beck know how close danger loomed wasn’t going to happen. Not yet. Not until Declan figured out Leah’s real game.

“Drop it.” He doubted they would, but he said it anyway.

“Is Cal right?”

Just what Declan needed. A pile-on. “Leah has an agenda.”

Beck frowned. “Is that news? I thought she made that clear when you first met her.”

The words sliced through Declan. The honesty behind them had him swallowing back a lump of whatever clogged his throat. He chalked it up to anger because he could not think about regret.

Yeah, Leah had been clear she wanted him out of town and away from her house. But that had changed when their relationship shifted, or it had for him. He assumed she was on board. Knowing differently now was the reason for the fury eating at his insides.

Having Beck suggesting all that dark, rolling anger might be misplaced made the pounding in Declan’s head kick up to deafening levels.

“Nah, he came up on something big. Something she said or did, maybe something he saw.” Callen’s gaze searched Declan’s face as if he could find an answer there if he stared long and hard enough. “What was it?”

“That I should re-think living with my brothers because they act like gossipy old women and will do anything to avoid work.”

Beck barked out a laugh. “Like that insult will stop this conversation.”

The soft tap on the door frame did. All three men looked up.

Sophie stood there, her usual bucket gone but her eyes wide and her hands strangely trembling. “Excuse me.”

Another woman he didn’t understand. Declan decided that was starting to be an epidemic in Sweetwater. “What’s up, Sophie?”

“Are you here every day now?”

“Really, Beck?” Declan added a few more choice words under his breath. “It’s called tact.”

Sophie talked right over both of them with her gaze scanning the room but conveniently skipping over Beck in each round. “Declan asked me to help out in the caretaker cottage this morning.”

“That rat-infested shack out back?” Callen asked.

Her eyes scrunched up as a small hiss escaped her lips. “That’s part of the reason I came in.”

Beck stood up fast enough to send coffee spilling over the edge of his mug. Not that he noticed. “We don’t have rats.”

The trembling stopped. So did the worried expression. Her lips fell into a flat line as she stared at Beck. “You have an army of something that leaves little black droppings out there.”

“Well, that guarantees I won’t be sleeping there,” Callen said.

That was enough rat and dropping talk for a lifetime. Since he brought her here and gave her this job, Declan knew the task of cleaning up the mess, possibly literally, fell to him. “I’ll be out in a second. I need to knock some sense into my brothers first.”

She stepped back, edging into the hall and away from all of them. “Okay.”

Callen shook his head. “She thinks you’re actually dumb enough to try to take us on.”

“I’ll wait outside.” Sophie disappeared around the corner. Her feet didn’t make a sound, which wasn’t unusual. She had a habit of showing up before you knew she was coming.

When Declan started to follow her, Callen grabbed his arm. “You sure about this?”

As if someone else was going to volunteer for rat extermination duty. “Someone has to check. I don’t want Sophie stuck with the job.”

Callen’s shoulders fell. “I meant Leah.”

The part of his brain not focused on rats shut down. That was most of it, but the only way Declan could keep moving forward and not do something stupid and lead with his dick was to not even let a thought of Leah enter his brain. “We’re done talking about her.”

Beck raised his hand. “I have more questions.”

“I’ll be outside with the rats.”

Callen nodded. “I should probably be insulted by that choice but I have other things to do this morning.”

***

Callen threw on a hoodie and walked onto the front porch a few minutes later. He saw her the second after that. Leah’s car was parked behind his and she shuffled up the driveway, head down with body language suggesting she’d closed off.

If she hadn’t she would in a second. Callen would make sure of that. “You’re not exactly wanted here.”

Her feet skidded on the gravel as her head shot up. “Hello.”

“I wasn’t issuing a welcome.”

If possible, her mouth went even flatter. “Declan told you.”

Not nearly enough but his drawn face said whatever he found happened to be catastrophic. That was good enough for Callen to shift Leah from his Watch List to his Keep Out List. “Declan didn’t have to open his mouth.”

Life sparked in her eyes. “What do you mean?”

No way was Callen giving this woman hope. He pointed in the general direction of her car behind her. “Time for you to go.”

She glanced over her shoulder and froze. “What is that?”

He didn’t have to ask what she was talking about. The burned-out circle of ash and brown earth just a few feet from the old maple tree told most of the story. “A gift from one of your fellow townsfolk. They didn’t burn a cross, but they did burn the rocking chair off the porch.”