Crazy Nights (The Barrington Billionaires Book 3) (9 page)

“She’s old-fashioned. Expects people to be married before they start bunking up together. But lucky for you I know every creaky board and squeaky hinge. I can get from my room to yours without ever being noticed.”

“There’s just one thing,” she said, slipping a hand up in his hair. “If you don’t show me where the bathroom is I’m going to burst.”

“Sorry,” he said, pulling her to her feet. “I forgot.”

“I’d imagine in a house this size I’d have about ten bathrooms to choose from.”

“Nine,” he corrected, showing her to the closest one. “But big houses and money don’t make for a happy life. My mother has everything a person could ever want. And she can’t stop flipping light switches.”

“She looked happy to see you,” Evie said, standing on her tiptoes and kissing his cheek. “We can’t always fix everyone in our lives, but we can give them brief moments of happiness. We can cheer them up or cheer them on. It counts.”

“It does.” He nodded, pulling her in close to him and kissing her full on the lips. “It really does.”

E
vie looked
out the large bay window and up at the stars. The room Emmitt had shown her to was a girl’s dream. It was Harlan’s old room, and it was perfect. The closet was huge with motorized spinning racks to display clothes, and it was full of things Harlan must have left behind. Purses, shoes, and accessories. Things she must not need anymore. Evie envied the wealth. The ability to leave behind a closet full of things without thinking twice.

She was perched on the plush window seat, staring out over the estate. Home was so far from here. The miles, the days that had passed since she’d been there felt suffocating. It had never occurred to her that you could both hate something and miss it all at once.

“Are you still up?” Emmitt asked, poking his head in her room. “I used to sneak out that window all the time. It would drive Harlan crazy, but she had the lattice work you could climb down. My bedroom window was a thirty-foot drop.” He moved toward her and settled in on the window seat, pulling her close. It was welcomed, the feel of his strong arms reminding her she wasn’t alone.

“It’s a beautiful house. Something I thought I’d buy someday,” she sighed. “I was delusional to think I’d be a movie star. To think I’d be wealthy and I could change everything for my family.”

“What needs to be changed?” Emmitt asked, and she knew he wasn’t going to back off the truth.

“It’s not important,” she said with a shake of her head. “I’m rambling.”

“Good, ramble some more.”

“You didn’t come in here to hear me talk,” she said, rubbing a hand across his firm chest. “That’s no fun. Aren’t you all about the fun?”

“Ramble,” he said, pulling her hand to his mouth and kissing it gently.

“I don’t think you and I will agree much on this, and why have one more thing to fight about?”

He didn’t reply, just sat there staring at her expectantly.

“I sent my brother, Alex, the advance I made on the movie. It was twelve thousand dollars. I sent it all.”

“For what?” he asked, sounding like that was a very stupid idea. “Why give him your money?”

“Partly because I expected I’d be getting a lot more. The other reason is because my mother needed it. I realized how much you and I have in common when you looked at me and said your mother is a good person, like you had to explain that to me, like it was very important I knew that. I can understand that better than you can ever imagine.”

“That dream you were having; it was not just a dream, was it?”

“A nightmare,” she said, leaning her head against him and still staring outside. “My mother is a good person, just like yours. She worked on our farm for her entire life. Up before the sun, back-breaking work that most people would never do. My father was the same. Then when my brother and I got old enough we were expected to work just as hard, and we did. It was just how it was.”

“I can’t really picture you working on a farm,” he said, his chin now perched gently on the top of her head as they both stared out the window.

“You name it and I learned how to do it. And I loved it. Life was great, until it wasn’t. One day my mother fell from the flatbed truck and hurt her back. I still remember the sound of her screaming. I’ll never forget it.”

“Was she all right?” Emmitt asked, and she felt him squeeze a little tighter.

“She broke two vertebrae. The recovery was tough. The pain was unbearable, but she was even more worried about the farm. The only way things worked was if we were all there to pull our weight. It was four months of her being laid up. When she did get back on her feet, the only way she made it through the day was with pills. The doctor gave her the really strong stuff. He gave it to her like he was giving out aspirin. Then suddenly, she needed more and more to get through the day. The pain was real; we couldn’t blame her. But one day the doctor wouldn’t give her anymore. The same guy who started her on these things suddenly wouldn’t write another prescription. He wanted her to do physical therapy and meditate. Just like that he wanted her to stop, but she couldn’t.” Evie pulled her knees up to her chest as she thought of her mother’s descent into addiction. “I thought the best way I could help her at first was to get her more pills. It was just asking around school. But when all those sources ran out, she began digging through medicine cabinets of friends. Then selling stuff off the farm to pay for more pills. Selling everything until there was nothing left. Until my father left. Until my brother had to work three jobs and drop out of high school. Until—”

“Until you could finally do something about it and make some real money?” he asked knowingly.

“I sent the money home for a special treatment center in California. She went. She stayed. She failed. She left.”

“Where is she now?” Emmitt asked, pulling her hair off her shoulder and running his fingers through it affectionately.

“She lives in an apartment with about fourteen other addicts. They pool their money for rent and pills. She’s a mess. A real mess. And now I don’t have another way to help her. I have no money to send back. I haven’t had the guts yet to call my brother and tell him I was fired. He’ll expect me to come home. He’ll want me to help, to do something. But I don’t know what else to do.” The tears fell freely now as she buried herself into him. “She’s a good person. She’s the same woman who made all my costumes for the school play. She’s the mom who packed the best lunches with little notes inside every day. Underneath all of that she’s still there somewhere. I have to believe that.” She paused, using her sleeve to clean her face. “I’m sorry, I’m a mess,” she apologized.

“It’s all right,” Emmitt whispered, holding her tightly. “It’s all right to not be all right.”

“I should go home, Emmitt. I should face it. I just don’t know how,” she cried. “I’m terrible for hiding here. For running. She needs me.”

“I’m about the worst person in the world to weigh in. I have my own demons, and my father’s addiction isn’t something I feel like I need to face. His choices are his, and they’ve led him where he is. She takes that next pill, and he places that next bet. Why should that be on us?” He was being honest, she knew that. And maybe he was right, but it didn’t absolve her of the guilt.

“I thought the treatment in California would work,” she said, sadly. “I really did.”

“I thought when my mother was committed to a mental institution, and we were left with no one to care for us, that would be enough for my father to come back. I thought when Harlan fell off the swing and broke her arm, he’d be at the hospital. When I left for the military, standing out in front of the bus, I thought he’d be there to see me off. When I was wounded and sent home, I thought he’d show up. They don’t Evie. They just don’t get better and they don’t show up unless they need something.”

“She’s a good person,” Evie repeated in a whisper. “I swear she is.”

“I know,” he said, lifting her from the window seat and carrying her to the bed. Her arms were wrapped around his neck as he laid her gently on the large down comforter. “I’m sorry,” he groaned. “I’m sorry I’m not the guy who knows what to say.”

“Don’t say anything,” she begged in a hushed voice before pulling his lips to hers. He kissed her deeply, replacing the hungry desire to have her with the need to heal her. His hands didn’t roam across her body, they stayed fixed on her cheek and in her hair. Emmitt lay down beside her as he broke the kiss and pulled her body to his. “Sleep,” he ordered. “There’s nothing you can do about it tonight.”

“Stay with me?” she pleaded, looping one of her arms over him.

“A pack of dogs couldn’t pull me away from you right now,” he promised, sweeping all of her damp, tear-soaked hair off her face. “We’ll figure it out in the morning.”

“How?” she asked, nuzzling against him. “There’s no way to fix this.”

“I specialize in screwing things up, Evie. I am an expert at decimating and breaking shit. No one does it better than me. Maybe it’s time I start using my powers for good. We’ll think of something tomorrow. Just sleep.”

E
mmitt stared
at the ceiling as the sun came up, and Evie slept peacefully at his side. At least one of them had rested. He spent most of the night wondering who the fuck he thought he was promising to help Evie fix her problems. Admitting her mother was not a lost cause was by default saying the same thing about his own father. Something he refused to acknowledge. The idea put him at odds with himself in a way that made sleep impossible.

“How long have you been up?” Evie asked through a stretch and yawn.

“Not long,” he lied.

“What’s the matter?” she asked, sitting up, her tiny tank top straps falling off her shoulders, baring her breasts seductively. Whatever ethical dilemma had kept him from sleeping wasn’t going to keep him from touching her now. A man had priorities after all.

“Besides wanting you right now and knowing any second my mother is going to ring the bell for breakfast?” He leaned down and buried his face into her neck, kissing his way down her until he was tugging at the top of her tank top with his teeth.

“You have a bell for breakfast?” She laughed, pushing his head away playfully. “How rich are you guys?”

The ringing of a shrill bell seeped in from the other side of the closed door just as Emmitt parted her legs.

“Time to eat,” she said, drawing in a raspy breath as his mouth came down on the damp cloth of her thong.

“My thoughts exactly,” he growled.

“Emmitt,” a voice called from down the hall.

“Harlan?” he said, shooting his head up quickly.

“Emmitt, I swear to God you better not be defiling my bed, or I’m going to kick your ass.”

He sprang to his feet and shuffled to the door, quickly pulling a T-shirt over his head. “Chill out,” he said, as though she were being ludicrous. “No one is doing anything to your old bed.”

He swung the door open and kept his lower body, raging hard-on included, angled behind it. “What are you doing here?”

“Don’t tell her,” Harlan demanded in a low voice. “Don’t tell Mom that I saw Dad yesterday. He asked me not to mention it to her.”

“And since when do we take orders from him? He doesn’t get to decide what happens with Mom.” Emmitt had already decided his mother shouldn’t know yet, but he wouldn’t allow it to look as though that was some gift to his father.

“He was afraid it would upset her. He knows how she can be, and he didn’t want to make it any worse.” Harlan had a hand propped up on her hip as she made her case, but it meant nothing to Emmitt.

“You’re going to stop me from telling her?” He stuck his chest out and glared at her.

“Yes,” she shouted, then quieted again, afraid she might be heard. “You know it’ll bother her, and she doesn’t need that right now. Things have been under control. Dad had good intention with his visit. Why can’t you just accept that?”

“Dad didn’t want Mom to know he’s in town because when he got here last night he wanted to slip in and steal something without her thinking it was him.”

“Bullshit,” Harlan scoffed. “I already talked to Mom. She thought she saw something and opened the door setting off the alarm by mistake. There was no mention about Dad at all. You are such an asshole, do you know that? Why do you always have to play this side of it? It wasn’t any picnic growing up with Mom. You’d know that if you hadn’t gone from juvenile hall to the military. Running from one place to another made it easy to overlook what a shit show it was back here.”

“Mom never meant to be the way she is. What Dad did made it ten times worse. She wasn’t like that when Mathew and I were little.”

“Well, she was when I was growing up. I was here alone, and Dad was gone. I would have liked to have more of a choice in who I was raised by. You don’t always get to say what’s best for everyone.”

“Do you think I enjoy this?” Emmitt asked in a near shout as he heard Evie shuffle over to him, resting a hand on his back. But it did nothing to calm him. “Do you believe that I like being able to spot a liar or a con artist from a mile away. It’s a really handy skill and all, but when you’re the guy telling the girl her husband is a deadbeat, it doesn’t win you many friends. Even when you’re right. When you’re the guy telling the boss that the little old man who’s worked for you for years has been skimming money out of the register every day, you don’t win any popularity contest. Being able to see bullshit before everyone else isn’t as great a super power as you might think, but I still have a responsibility to call it like I see it when it comes to people hurting my family.”

“He is your family,” Harlan argued, but far more sheepishly now. “I just wish you would give him a chance.”

“You know what people do with chances? They blow them. God, how many men have to fuck up your life before you finally start protecting yourself? You deserve more than this.”

“Whoa,” Evie said, yanking the door all the way open and stepping out to stand by Harlan. “What the hell is your problem? You don’t get to say things, thinking your words don’t hurt people. If you’re so worried about people fucking with your sister, maybe you should take a look in the mirror.”

“Yeah,” Harlan said quickly. “Jerk.” She turned to Evie and flashed a half smile. “Sorry I was so rude to you yesterday. You didn’t deserve that. I was just upset.”

“Ugh,” Emmitt said, rubbing a hand to his temple as he stared at the two women causing him stress that he didn’t need. When neither of them softened their stare or backed down he reluctantly caved. “Fine. I won’t say anything to Mom until the need arises, but I determine when that is. And you don’t see him again.” He pointed his finger at Harlan, but she laughed him off.

“You don’t get to decide that. I want to see where it goes. You can’t stop me. I have two little girls to think about, and they deserve as much as I can give them. And if that can include a grandfather, I’d like to try to do that. I don’t want them to be alone.” She sniffled and it damn near bowled Emmitt over to see her tear up.

“The girls have family. Mathew and I are here for whatever they need. And Mom—”

Harlan cut him off. “Mathew is in Texas, and I don’t think he’s in a rush to get back here now that he has Jessica. Who can blame him really? All he ever does here is keep everyone’s life from falling to shit. Mom is in her own world, and you,” she gestured up at him like he was a lost cause, “you might be able to spot bullshit, but you usually raise the alarm and then leave. I need people who are going to be around for my girls. People who will come to the recital they have tomorrow and help put the star on the top of the Christmas tree. You aren’t that guy. So don’t blame me for trying to find it in someone else.”

Emmitt ground his teeth together to keep himself from saying anything else. There was no winning this fight right now, even if he was right. The best he could do was what he always did, protect. It was harder to do when the people said they didn’t want your help, but he knew it was still possible.

“Mom’s waiting,” Harlan said, spinning away from him. “I won’t tell her you guys were in the same room last night.”

“Thanks,” Evie said softly as she adjusted the sweater she had hastily buttoned. Emmitt watched as the two women exchanged a few kind words and headed to the kitchen, paces ahead of him.

He took a quick inventory of how fucked things were. His father was in town. He agreed, against his better judgment, not to tell his mother. Harlan was still considering letting that asshole back into her life. Evie had shown the little broken pieces of herself last night and was met with his poorly thought through promise to repair them. This was why he kept to himself. It’s why he could head out in an instant with only a bag and a good pair of boots. He didn’t like to consider it running away, more like strategically avoiding.

“Emmitt,” his mother called down the hall toward him when the girls had arrived and he hadn’t.

“Coming,” he shot back, shaking the frustration of his situation off. He’d sit down with his mother, sister, two nieces, and Evie and eat breakfast. The rest of the day, all the unknowns and trouble would be waiting on the other side of the bacon and eggs, no need to rush right into it.