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  “I don’t really think that was her goal, gorgeous girl. She was worried for Sky.”

  Even over the phone, the side conversations between Caleb and Reagan are comforting.

  “I agree, but she could have handled that concern with some regard for federal privacy policies.”

  “Yes, I’m sure that’s the first thing that comes to mind when someone’s life is in danger.”

  “Fine.” I hear Reagan swat her husband. “Sky, what’s the story? Is he home yet? How have things been? When do you need us there?”

  “He’s coming home today. Evan texted me that he and Adam are inches away from killing each other, so, as Evan put it, ‘the rabid dogs need a time-out.’” It has been three days since he was released from the hospital. I’ve been living in Nick’s house for almost a week by myself.

  “Yikes,” Reagan says. “Remind me not to sit at the Harris family table at the next large event.”

  “I’m sure they would behave in public. Behind closed doors might be a totally different scenario.”

  “Well, since that’s the plan,” Caleb cuts in, “how are you going to move forward from here?”

  “I’ve wrestled with that for days. I still don’t have a good answer.” I considered cooking his favorite meal and telling him the whole story. I debated whether I should confess my deep feelings for him, since he already heard all the clinical stuff. I thought about just being naked and letting him see my body. Then the worry that he would reject all of those options pulled me back into the place I am now. Emotional purgatory.

  Caleb doesn’t offer much to ease my worry. “I hate to say this, Sky, but you’re going to have read the situation when it happens. I’m never good at guessing Nick without actually looking at him.”

  “Is anyone?” Reagan asks. “He’s the vault of unknown emotion.”

  “The only one I know who is good at guessing Nick’s moves is Skyler,” Caleb offers.

  I drop my head on the plush couch. “I’m not in a good position to judge right now.”

  “We know, Skyler.” Reagan’s empathy could kill the most menacing of bad moods. “We just want to help.”

  “I know. I just wish I had listened and told him right away. I could have saved us this whole mess.”

  “You made a choice, Sky. The only thing you can do now is move forward.”

  Movement in the distance catches my eye. The bright glint of sunlight off a windshield temporarily blinds me. “Guys, I think I have to call you back.”

  “Make sure it’s him before you hang up.” Caleb’s voice is protective, even almost two hundred miles away. “I don’t want someone being disrespectful to you.”

  His concern makes me smile. The joy only lasts a moment when I see Adam exit the vehicle. “Crap,” I mutter.

  “Is it him?” Reagan tries to sound hopeful, but she knows.

  “It’s Adam. It looks like he’s alone.”

  “Do not hang up this phone, Skyler.” Caleb’s command is so protective it sends a chill up my spine.

  Damn it. I inhale, mustering my strength for an attack and reviewing all the mantras. You cannot intimidate me. I refuse to let you bully me into leaving. This is between Nick and me. Our relationship is none of your business.

  The swirling worry that Nick and I don’t have a relationship is chased away when I see the passenger door fall open. I see him emerge from the vehicle, worn and a little thin.

  “He’s with him. He’s home.” I rush the words into the phone.

  “Good! Now stand your ground. Talk it out. You know how you want this to work out.” Reagan should have been a guidance counselor instead of a research assistant. Her encouragement is a warm comfort.

  Caleb snorts. “Or you can kick him in the balls if he’s stupid. That should right the ship.”

  “I’ll call in a bit.” I disconnect the phone before they have a chance to finish saying goodbye.

  Adam enters the house first, with a menacing look on his face. He glances out the open door, watching Nick’s labored steps.

  “Does he need help?” I walk toward the door. “Are you just going to let him struggle?” I rush to his side, tucking myself under his arm.

  “I’m fine, Skyler. Just sore,” he says.

  Adam never takes his eyes off us. “I didn’t want him to come back yet. I think he’d be better suited to stay with family. You know, the people who give a shit.”

  “I’m fine.” The words grate against Nick’s clenched teeth. “Get out.”

  “Listen to me, little brother—”

  “No, Adam, you listen to me.” The fire in Nick’s eyes is a clear indication that he has had enough of his older brother. “This is my choice. Get out.”

  Adam’s frustration radiates from every pore. “You”—he points to my face—“you contact me the second something is wrong with him. Do you understand me?”

  “Not without manners, I don’t.” I scrunch my nose. “Have a nice evening, Adam.”

  His face falls, sliding into a mask of anger and hostility. “You are a selfish bitch who knowingly and willingly fucked with my family. If you think there is an ounce of dignity you deserve, it’s in the gutter with the rest of you.”

  “Get the fuck out of my house now, Adam. Don’t come back here until I tell you to.” Nick is angry, but I can tell he’s also tired. My heart aches, knowing that this type of argument might have kept him from healing. He should have been here, in his home, where he can rest and recuperate, regardless of what happened in the hospital.

  Adam’s eyes narrow to menacing slits. “However you have fucked with his head, whatever magic your pussy has over him, enjoy it now before he comes to his senses.”

  My willingness to remain calm and classy explodes in a million flaming shards. “Now you listen to me, right now! Whatever your beef is, drop it. You do not determine how long I enjoy Nick. If you think I won’t defend myself, you are an idiot. Decisions are made with Nick and Nick alone. He is the only one who has access to my body, so my magic pussy—which is dazzling, by the way—is none of your business. You don’t get to talk to me, or any woman, with such blatant disregard. Maybe if you used that nugget of info, you wouldn’t be alone and so damn grouchy. Maybe you need to find your own magic pussy so you can stop being an epic douchebag, but first, you’d have to get your head out of your ass!” Two breaths heave into my lungs as I wait for Nick to step in. When he doesn’t, I take my cue. “Your brother asked you to leave.”

  “Exactly who the fuck do you think you are?” Adam scoffs, a cold smile bending his mouth. “Bitch, you’re going to get a piece of my mind—”

  “There’s a gun within reach. Don’t make me put it in my hand.” Nick’s voice is deadly. I’ve heard that tone once before, when a dom at Reign tried to get my attention. The jerk grabbed my ponytail and yanked me into his lap. Nick was nearby and assisted him to the door. He was so quick I didn’t see him punch the guy, but I saw the bloody lip and heard the guy begging Nick to let up.

  Knowing the possible outcomes, and that there is a loaded gun in the house, is unnerving. If they got into a fight, Nick would never be able to move with the swiftness he normally does. He’s already in pain. I see the ache of physical discomfort etched in his face even as he and Adam stare each other down.

  I move past their silent showdown and hold the door open. “Thanks for dropping him off, Adam.”

  He turns his back to Nick as he moves toward the door. “This isn’t over, brother.”

  “It is for now,” Nick replies.

  Adam’s coat brushes against my body, his proximity sending a sickening wave through me. “You’re lucky,” he mutters.

  “Call Ronnie,” I whisper, hoping Nick won’t hear the volley. “She might offer your lonely hard-on some company.”

  Adam bows his head and pops the collar of his coat, making the heavy canvas material rustle. “Nah, she’s exhausted from playing nurse with Nico.”

  I feel the tremor weaken my knees. She was caring fo
r him? Evan said nothing about her. But why would he? Ronnie is what they want. Ronnie is here. The armor that strengthened me slips away. Ronnie was there because Nick allowed it. He wouldn’t let just anyone care for him.

  He certainly didn’t call me.

  The nasty sneer that curls Adam’s mouth exudes his pleasure at the damage he’s caused. “Enjoy your evening, Skyler.”

  Chapter 22

  Nick

  My brother is a colossal asshole.

  Skyler closes the door behind her, looking wounded and infuriated. Her jaw bounces as she clenches the inside of her cheek with her teeth. She only does it when she can’t figure something out. She’s wrestling with information, like when she’s budgeting for supplies or trying to wrap her brain around theming a new event.

  “Hey,” I say, too tired to start this conversation any other way.

  “Hi?” Her brows lift, and her eyes roll, snapping her from her thoughts. She still looks mad, but now she’s less focused on why.

  I try to lift my arm and rest it on the back of the couch, but the bone-deep bruises make the simplest movement a chore. Every movement is restricted. It’s agony with every step, every turn of my head. I can’t breathe too deeply. Words become grizzled, mangled into pained growls. I want to move, but I can’t handle the searing ache.

  Thank god Adam left on his own. I have to calculate every step, and there is no way I could have moved fast enough to defend myself. He wouldn’t have cared that I’m injured. For Adam, winning is everything.

  “Do you need anything? Ice? Pain medication?” she asks from the opposite side of the couch.

  “I’m not taking the drugs they gave me. I took some ibuprofen a couple hours ago.”

  She nods. “Are you hungry? Can I make you something?”

  I shake my head. “No.”

  Skyler looks lost, worried. “How long were you at Adam’s?”

  “Three days.” I can’t stand this dance anymore. “You need to tell me, Skyler. I need to know what happened.”

  “What did you hear?”

  “Does that matter?”

  “Nick,” she says as she pushes her hands through her hair, “I’m not going to repeat what you already know.”

  “No, you will tell me everything, Skyler,” I demand. “Everything. To me. Now. Not to a nurse who will gossip our business all over the fucking town. Not to Caleb, who will think he knows best in a situation that does not even involve him. Not to Blake, so you can try to ease whatever need you have that I could have taken care of in an instant.” My body throbs with a sharp ache. “Me, Skyler. You will tell me everything. Not whoever else ranks higher in your world. Me!”

  Her eyes flare wide as she surges around the couch. “No one ranks higher than you,” she snaps. At the edge of the coffee table, where there is no longer anything between us, she falters. “I never meant for you to be hurt in this, Nick.”

  “Too little, too late. You left without a word. You disrespected everything we had.”

  “What did we have, Nick? We did demonstrations. I was snarky to you. You growled at me. I found ways to manipulate the slightest bits of attention from you.”

  “We had each other, Skyler!” My pulse slams against every tender part of my body.

  “How did I know that, Nick? We never talked about being together long-term. You would touch my body and then avoid me like the plague.”

  “I always provided aftercare. Do not accuse me of leaving when I should have been taking care of you.”

  “Yes, Nick. You always did your duties, but sometimes a girl likes to be snuggled on a Tuesday. Or she likes to have pizza out with the guy who puts his face between her legs.”

  “I have a history of damaging the good stuff, Sky. I can’t do that to you.”

  “Really? I’m already damaged when it comes to genetic predispositions.”

  “Is that a joke? Are you really poking fun at this?”

  “No, not at all. I’m trying to make a point, Nick. Nothing is perfect.” She flops on the couch. “I found a lump, and the biopsy came back malignant. They did genetic testing because of my family history.”

  “Your mom and your aunt died of breast cancer?”

  “And my grandmother. Ovarian cancer.”

  “You had the test, and they found you have the genetic predisposition?”

  “Yes. My oncologist talked to me about the options. The surgery, according to the team, is best practice, given my diagnosis. Any other intervention would have been against medical advice.” She looks down at her hands. “It was a relief and a terrible glimpse into what my future could hold.”

  “When you left, did you know they were going to do the mastectomy?”

  “Not at all. When I told Caleb, it was an option, but one I knew I had to take if that was necessary. On the drive from Reign to Amanda’s house, I somehow convinced myself they could remove the tissue with a lumpectomy and go from there.” She shakes her head and inhales. “I planned to tell you after the lump was gone. I was scheduled to be away for three weeks, but the doctors were clear with their recommendations. I could not take the chance. Amanda went through the same procedure four years ago.”

  My brain throbs, still pushing against the bullshit with Adam, and now Skyler’s confession. I didn’t know she had family close by. “And, ah, the cancer, it wasn’t anywhere else?”

  “No. Without the surgery, it would have resurfaced. The procedure reduced my recurrence risk by ninety-five percent.” She hesitates and then inhales. “It honestly happened so fast. They were clear about the genetic links between breast cancer and ovarian cancer. The mastectomy and reconstruction were scheduled. I had a brief round of chemo, then they removed my ovaries.”

  A life I never knew existed flashes before my eyes. Skyler happy, round with my child. My wife holding our baby.

  She gives me a sideways glance. “I met with a fertility specialist before everything started. They were able to harvest and freeze six eggs before I went into treatment,” she says quietly.

  “Okay,” I say in a rush. “What does that mean?”

  “It means that I have viable egg options for down the road. After the chemo, my best prospects for having a child will be with a surrogate.”

  My throat feels tight. “Are they okay?”

  “They are frozen, so yes.”

  “For how long?”

  “For as long as I need them.” She stands up and moves to the fireplace. Skyler handles the poker with a confidence I’ve not seen before. She has always been capable. Here her abilities seem to compound.

  “I’m not sure why you’re concerned about it,” she says into the fireplace as she adds a new log. “I’m sure Ronnie doesn’t have any concerns about fertility.”

  The words smack against my face. “Why are you talking to me about Ronnie?”

  “Adam made sure to mention she’s been taking care of you.” She leans back, crossing her arms across her chest.

  I thought threatening my brother with the gun was enough. Now I’m actually going to have to shoot him. “She’s nothing to be worried about, Sky.”

  “But she was there?”

  “Yes. She stopped in to visit.”

  “Hmm.”

  “She never moved past the living room, angel.”

  “She got farther into that home than I ever could.”

  “It was Adam’s choice. I’m not in the shape to fight every battle.”

  “Did she take good care of you?”

  “She didn’t have the chance. Don’t be jealous.” Her assumption is irritating.

  “Is there anything else you want to know?”

  She’s mad, and it might not be the best time, but I need to know. “Were you in pain?”

  The brazen, bold woman who wants to string me up by my balls wilts. “There were days that were worse than others. The surgery pain was managed. The reconstruction was uncomfortable. I still have moments of achiness. The chemo was rough. I would be okay for the twenty-four hours
after a treatment, and then I felt like I was hit by a bus for the next twenty-four.”

  “Who took care of you?”

  “Does it matter?”

  “I do have enough strength to take you over my knee. Do not fuck with me right now.”

  She has the decency to blush and look away, though I’m sure she’s rolling her eyes. “Amanda was my primary caregiver. When she went to work, the neighbor would check on me.”

  “Was she good to you?”

  She nods, lifts a negligent shoulder. “Yes, in certain situations.”

  “Such as?”

  “Amanda knows what the experience is like.” Skyler moves to the other end of the couch and tucks her legs under herself, curling up. Her gaze is fixated on the floor. “I worried about what was going to happen, but Amanda was able to anticipate what I needed before I knew.”

  I try to imagine Skyler in those moments and wonder if I would have known to do the same things. If Skyler had been with me, would I have been able to take care of her?

  “Don’t look like that, Nick,” she says quietly.

  “Don’t look like what?”

  “Like you are trying to figure out what happened. It wasn’t pretty. I threw up. I cried. I was tired. Consider yourself lucky that you didn’t witness it.”

  “Lucky?” Her assumption pisses me off. “I would have figured it out, Skyler. You didn’t give me the chance to prove that I could help you.”

  “Nick, you have never wanted to be around me when I’m sick. My chemo treatments were like the flu multiplied by Godzilla.”

  “I would have tried, Skyler.” The words push through my clenched teeth.

  She nods her head. “It wouldn’t have been good for either of us.”

  Her willingness to brush me off, dismiss my presence anywhere in her life, is infuriating.

  “Skyler, how could you have known whether I could handle what you were going through if I didn’t know? That’s bullshit!”

  “I knew what I was doing—”

  “You fucked up,” I spit.

  “I knew what would happen if you showed up!” She explodes from her seat. “Amanda would have hated you being anywhere around me. She would have done nothing but make you uncomfortable. I wasn’t going to put you in that situation.”