Torn: Part Four (An Alpha Billionaire Romance) (The Torn Series Book 4)

Torn

Part Four

SKY CORGAN

Text copyright 2015 by Sky Corgan

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CHAPTER ONE

PIPER

“You can't tell Holden about this.” Ann's words echo in my brain.

Why would she think I would talk to him anyway? We hate each other. Who knows if we'll even ever interact again?

The more I think about it, the more I begin to suspect that she knows he's been pestering me. Perhaps him showing up at the play party wasn't a coincidence. I doubt he would stalk me to that level, though.

“You should know that I'm dying.”

Remembering the inflection in Ann's tone makes my eyes water. It was one of the saddest things I've ever heard. Worse, it makes me reflect on the death of my own mother.

Would I have done things differently had I known that her demise was coming? Would I have been kinder? Called her more often? Come home to spend her last few days with her? The answer to all of those is definitely yes. I'd certainly have fewer regrets.

That's why I don't understand why Ann doesn't want Holden to know. I was too shocked to ask her in the car. The tension had my throat tight. After spending a good portion of the day considering quitting, and seeing how solemn Ann looked after delivering the news of her condition, I thought it was best to drop the subject. Now, I'm regretting that choice.

I made a promise to her that I don't think is fair to keep. Holden is a bastard, but he shouldn't be denied the opportunity to make the most of the time that the two of them have left together. It's not my place to make that decision, though, and if Ann wants me to keep her secret, then I suppose it's my duty, not only as her employee but also as her friend.

I sigh, feeling emotionally drained. When I get home, I make dinner and do my chores like a zombie. Ann and Holden are the only things on my mind. I can't get over the thought that Ann withholding her condition from Holden is going to make him resent her when she's gone. There will be so much bitterness and regret there. Knowing that your parent is dying must be hard. But knowing that they could have told you about it but chose not to is probably worse. I've never been in that situation before, so I can't really tell, but I can only imagine how I would feel. Maybe Ann thinks she's protecting him, but she's not. She's making the wrong choice, and I really wish she understood that.

Once I'm done with my chores, I settle on the sofa to watch television with the boys. It's kind of funny how life has flipped onto its head. Only days ago, I used to dread the thought of being at home. Working or going out was a far better option. This is slowly becoming my safe haven, though, a place where I don't have to deal with running into Holden or stressing out over work.

Maybe that last part isn't exactly true. I've obviously brought work home with me today. I can't even focus on the television, my brain is so obsessed with everything that has gone on lately.

I feel like I need an outside opinion on the whole situation. I'd call Gloria, but she's horrible with advice. As strange as it is to think it, the boys are the only ones who would find this situation remotely relatable.

I wait for a commercial before I bring the subject up.

“Hey, can you turn the television down for a minute? I want to ask you something.” I turn to Earl, who has had an iron-clad grip on the remote this entire time to keep Joe from changing it to cartoons. He even takes the damn thing to the bathroom.

He grunts, suddenly looking uneasy. “This isn't about the party, is it?”

“No.” I shake my head, wondering what he did that's making him feel guilty. When I came home the other night, the house seemed to be in relatively good condition. There were empty soda cans lying around, but that was kind of to be expected. It's not like the house was trashed or anything. “Did something happen that I need to know about?”

“No.” He avoids my gaze, quickly turning down the television.

That's a guilty look if I ever saw one. Hopefully, I don't find something unpleasant out later on down the road. If he's not going to tell me, though, I'm not interested in prying it out of him right now.

I pull my legs up onto the sofa, trying to figure out how to word my question. “Would you have liked to have known beforehand that our parents were going to die?”

He knits his brow as if the question was offensive. “Of course, I would have. Then I could have talked some sense into my dad. Whatever he was going through, there was no need for him to do what he did. It wasn't fair. It wasn't fair to us. It wasn't fair to your mother,” there's heat in his tone. He took that in the wrong direction. But I'm seeing something in him for the first time. Shame. He's ashamed that his father did what he did.

“No, it wasn't fair.” I fidget with my fingernails. “That's not what I meant though. Reality aside. If the circumstances were different. Say that they were terminally ill, would you have wanted to know?”

“Oh. Well, that's entirely different.” He rests back against the sofa, staring at the television. “That's not what happened, though. We both know that.”

“I know.” I sigh. “That's not why I'm asking.” I screw my face, deciding to come out with the whole story. “My boss told me today that she has cancer. I know that she's dying, but I don't know how long she has left to live. She has a son.” An image of Holden flashes through my mind. Not one of the sexy time that we had out in front of Larry's house, but of how he talked to his mother—how he almost made her cry. Would he have done that if he had known? “He's not the nicest person,” I hesitate, unable to find a better way to put it. “But he doesn't know that she's dying. She doesn't want him to know, and I don't know why. I feel like it's not right though. I think...I think I would have wanted to know that our parents were going to die. That way I could have done things differently. I would have had less regrets, you know.”

“I know.” Earl sulks. “But if you don't know her reasoning, then it's hard to tell if what she's doing is right or wrong. You haven't worked for her for very long, so you don't really know either of them. You don't know what their relationship is like.”

It bothers me that he's right. I don't know much about their past. All I do know is what Ann has told me and what I've seen of them interacting together. Holden obviously cares for his mother. Maybe too much. If they love each other as they seem to though, then I'm not sure why Ann wouldn't want to tell him.

“I suppose you're right.” I reach over to grab a nail file from the coffee table. During my fidgeting, I found that the nail on my pinky is too square. If I don't correct it, it will bother me until I end up biting it off.

“It sounds like maybe you should ask some more questions.” He glances over at me.

“I don't feel like it's really any of my business. I mean, that's a really personal thing. And she specifically requested for me not to tell her son.” I get to work filing down the problem nail.

“Well, if it were our parents and me, I would have wanted to know. As you said, there are things I would have done differently. I wasn't always the best son. It's easy to take people for granted when you always expect them to be there.” His expression is deadpan as he speaks, and I can tell that he's trying to hide his pain.

“It is. I'm sure we all have regrets.” I smile weakly, feeling a strange closeness to him in these moments. It's the first time we've sat down and discussed the death of our parents. Somehow, it seems like I needed this, like I can feel a weight being lifted from me.

“Of course, I wish they wouldn't have died at all. I wish Dad would have gotten help.” His gaze falls to the remote, his eyes full of thought.

I reach over to place a hand on his shoulder. “It's not your fault. No one knew that was going to happen.”

He pulls away from me, and it stings a little. “No, but he had been acting weird for a while. He was under a lot of stress. And he was paranoid that your mom was cheating on him. I don't know if it's true or not, but she had been going out a lot without him. I think he just reached a breaking point.”

The faint accusal makes me tense. My mom was practically obsessed with the bastard. I highly doubt she was cheating on him. The thought that Earl would even use that excuse to rationalize what his father did makes me sick to my stomach.

“We don't know what happened.” My jaw clenches as I try not to let my temper flair. “And it doesn't matter anyway. That's in the past. They're gone now. We have to learn to move forward without them.”

“I suppose you're right.” He sighs. “Still, it sucks.”

“It does suck.” I put down the nail file and stare at the television screen. The show has come back on, but Earl still hasn't turned up the volume.

In my mind, the conversation is over. I got his opinion, and now I don't want to talk about it anymore. My focus has shifted from being upset about Ann and Holden to wondering if what Earl said about my mother is true. It would be hard for me to believe, but I was so disconnected from her life by the end of it that how could I possibly know what was really going on. All this time, I had just assumed that Vince was a psycho. Thinking that made it easier to cope with their deaths.

“I wouldn't want to know,” Joe chimes in from the recliner.

“Why not?” I turn to him.

“Because then I would be sad every day. Knowing that someone is going to die and not being able to stop it...that's just horrible.” He frowns.

“It is horrible.” I nod. That's just a part of what comes with knowing, though, that sick feeling in the pit of your stomach. There's really no pleasant way to approach the impending death of a loved one. “Well, thanks for your input, guys. I think I'm going to hit the hay early.” I stand. There's no point in watching television if I can't get into it, and my mind is full of too many things to be able to focus on a meaningless show.

“Have a good night's sleep.” Earl doesn't even look at me. He simply turns up the television. The moment we shared is gone, and now I feel disconnected from him again.

“Goodnight.” Joe gives me sad eyes, making me feel guilty for having that conversation with him. It's obvious that he's upset now.

What's worse is that I don't feel any better about the situation. They both had valid points. I really do need to talk to Ann more though. There's really no way for me to judge whether or not she's making the right decision without knowing her full story. And even after I've heard it, I have no right to go against her wishes.

My job just got a lot more complicated.

***

You would think that sleep would erase a lot of my worries. I wake up nearly as stressed out as I went to bed though. As I drive to work, my mind is full of questions for Ann. And whether it's my business or not, I plan to ask them.

She greets me with a cheery expression, and I'm glad that her mood seems to have improved. I can only imagine that knowing she was about to disclose her secret to me had a lot weighing on her mind. Perhaps she even anticipated that I might quit because of it. Doing chores for someone is one thing. Taking care of someone who is terminally ill is something entirely different. We both know that I didn't sign up for it, and it became plainly obvious yesterday that my job duties will grow increasingly more intense as her illness progresses.

I don't mind though. I never would have minded had Holden not been in the equation. Ann is a sweet, amazing woman. Caring for her has been nothing but a pleasure thus far. Knowing that she's sick would not have scared me away. It's her asshole son that has me wanting to back away from both of them completely. That's over now though. I know that Ann needs me. And I know that I can't allow Holden to get under my skin again, because this is more important than both of us.

“What would you like for breakfast?” I ask as we head inside.

“I had a bowl of oatmeal when I got up this morning. There's no need for you to cook for me.” Despite saying that she's not hungry, she still leads me into the kitchen. “Most mornings, I'll feed myself. It's really only lunch and dinner that you need to worry about.”

“I don't mind making you breakfast too,” I offer.

“No. It's fine, dear. I usually need to eat first thing in the morning to take my meds anyway. And I wake up a lot earlier than this.” She sits at the breakfast table. There's a piece of paper and a pen waiting for her there. It looks like she's already scrawled a list on it.

I stand over her, trying not to be too nosy even though I suspect that the list is for me. “So what do you want me to do today?”

“There's not a whole lot to be done. Since I live alone, the house doesn't get too dirty. I try to clean up after myself.

“I made a shopping list. I'd like for you to go to the grocery store and pick up these things. I also need you to get my prescription from yesterday.”

“Alright.” I nod before taking the list from her.

“Holden is coming over for lunch today. I want you to make a meatloaf. It's his favorite. If you can replicate my recipe, he should take more kindly to you.” She smiles at me.

My mood sinks at the thought that I'm going to have to see Holden again, especially after what we did the other night. Haven't I been through enough? I could probably serve him the world on a platter and he still wouldn't take kindly to me. All he wants is for me to quit working for his mother, and that's definitely not happening.