Kestrel (Hart Briothers #3) (17 page)

“Come
back to bed.” His breath is warm on my neck and he pulls me tight to his chest.

“I
haven’t dreamed of her. I haven’t dreamed of Ells since I met you. She used
come to me and
tell
me not to worry about her anymore
because she was safe and happy. And she hasn’t come in a while now.”

He
turns me around and holds me against his chest. “
Shh
.
It’s okay.” He pats my head, comforting me as I cry. I’m a mess. And I’m the
one supposed to be taking care of him.

“It’s
already happening, isn’t it?”

“What?”

“She’s
going away. Leaving me forever. I knew this would happen. I’m losing her.”

“Angel,
you lost her four years ago.”

“Yeah,
but I held on. I held on to her memory.”

“You’ll
always have her memory. You can’t lose that,” his voice and hands soothe me.

“Then
why doesn’t she come to me in my dreams any more?” My voice cracks as I ask him
the question.

“Maybe
she knows you’re moving on, like you’re supposed to.”

A
deep and profound sense of sadness cloaks me as I lean into him. He walks us
back to bed and I don’t protest, but follow him like a blind child.

He
pulls me against him and turns off the lights. I don’t know, nor do I care,
what time it is. His heart beats steady against my ear as I let my thoughts
turn to Ells. Eventually I drift off, but dreams of my precious child evade me
once again.

In
the middle of the night I’m awakened by something. Unsure of what it is, I lie
there and listen. Then I hear it again. It’s Kestrel moaning. My first thought
is his fever has returned. Pushing myself to my elbow, I stretch my hand over
and touch his forehead. He jerks away from me and screams. It frightens me so
much, I scream in response.

“Don’t
touch me!” he yells.

It’s
so dark, I can’t see his face.

“I’m
sorry. I thought your fever returned.”

“No!
Don’t! It’s so dark. Don’t leave me.”

“What?”
I’m confused.

“No!
Let me go!”

His
hands claw at his neck and it’s only then I realize he’s dreaming.

“Kestrel,
wake up. You’re dreaming. Kestrel!” I shake him and he yells before jerking
awake.

He
sits up, grabs fistfuls of his hair, and then moans.

“Are
you okay?” I ask.

He
takes a few long breaths before saying, “Yeah. It was only a bad dream.”

“It
took me a while to figure that out, but I did.” I hold out my hand to him and
he takes it. When he lies back down, I notice he’s perspiring. “You sure you’re
okay?”

He
rubs his face and says he is. Then he kicks off the covers. Still worried his
fever has returned, I get out of bed and hunt for the thermometer. When I find
it, I stick it in his mouth. After it beeps, I’m happy to see it’s normal.

“It’s
just the nightmare, angel, that made me sweat. Happens a lot.”

“I
know that now. I just wanted to make sure. Do you want me to turn on the fan?”

“No,
I’ll be fine.”

“Wanna
tell me about it?”

“Fuck,
no.”

Reaching
for his hand, I begin talking. “After Ells and my parents died, I would dream
that they were being sucked up by that giant wave and I was standing a foot
away from them, yet I couldn’t reach them. I had all sorts of things next to
me, like rope, and a broomstick, but nothing would work. Every time I threw
something out to them, they would miss it, or it would be too short. And every
time I had the dream, I watched them drown. It was awful. I dreamed that for
months and months.”

“Christ.
That was torture.”

“I
know. Then I started therapy. I attended this group session for mothers who
lost children. Once I started talking about it, I stopped dreaming it. It was
strange how it all ended so abruptly. Maybe if you talked about yours, it would
help.”

“You
sound like my shrink.”

“Ah,
I see. Been there, done that, huh?”

“Yep.
Angel, you wouldn’t believe where I’ve been and what I’ve done.”

“Oh,
I don’t know. Maybe one day, you’ll trust me enough to find out.”

“I
trust you.”

“No,
Kestrel. You don’t at all. I don’t think you trust anyone. But that’s okay. I’m
not sure I would’ve told you all that crap about me if the situation had been
different. And for the record, don’t feel bad about buying the house. I’d
rather it be you than anyone else.”

“You
say that now. What if we end up hating each other?”

“That’s
life, baby. You never know what the future holds, do you?”

“Then,
take this for whatever it’s worth. I’m glad we met, Carter.”

“So
am I.”

Chapter
Twelve

Kestrel

Getting
sick is not for sissies. This flu has nailed me. For someone who never gets
sick, being down and out for three days is ridiculous. It’s now Wednesday, and Kolson
is on his way here. We have a shit ton of work to do and I still feel like
crap. He’s staying until the weekend and I hope by tomorrow I’m up and around.

The
day speeds by and he’s not very happy. At around two, he decides to take off
and go to the office.

“Maybe
I’ll get some concrete stuff done. Your head is in the clouds,” he says.

“Sorry,
man. I’m out of it. This cough medicine has me so doped up my head is twirling.”

“Yeah,
go to bed, dude. You look like hell.”

As
soon as he’s out the door, my ass hits the bed and I’m out. Like someone
flipped the light switch off. I don’t even hear Carter check in on me. I don’t
wake up until the next morning. She spent the night and tells me she gave me my
medicine and I that even took it. I don’t remember a thing. The good news is
I’m feeling much better.

“Do
not over do it or you’ll be right back where you were with a relapse.”

“Count
me out of that. This stuff sucks.”

“I
know. So you’re going in today?”

“Yeah.
I have to.”

“Here’s
the thing. No more than eight hours, or I’m coming to get you. Are we clear
here?”

“Are
you always this bossy?”

“Only
when you’re sick. I’m not kidding, Kestrel. I’ll come and drag your ass out of
there.”

“I
hear you, loud and clear.”

“Invite
them all over to my place for dinner tonight. They can see the house, too.”

“Are
you sure?”

“Yep.
But what are you going to tell them about us?”

“That
we’re dating, of course. What else would I tell them?”

“I’m
not sure.
That I propositioned you and that I’m a first class
nerd.
And you were totally put off by me.”

“Yeah,
well, that was
before
I saw you naked. And kissed you.” And then I grab
her, nuzzle her neck, and say, “And fucked you.”

She
elbows me in the ribs. “I need to get a shower.”

“Hey,
so do I. What a coincidence.”

“You’re
a mess.”

“The
worst there is.”

We
take a shower, though we don’t have time to do what I really want to. And off
we go to work. When I tell Kolson about dinner at Carter’s, his brows shoot up.

“We’re
sort of dating,” I explain.

“Sort
of? Either you are or you aren’t.”

“Then
I guess we are.”

“And
you’re buying her house. Isn’t that a conflict of interest?”

“We
don’t see it that way. She needs to sell and I want to buy it.”

“What
if you end up hating each other?”

“We’ve
discussed that. It still doesn’t change the fact that she needs to sell.”

He
waves his hand. “It’s your deal. You’ll have to manage a vengeful
ex-girlfriend.”

“Vengeful?
Wow. That’s a little severe.”

“Well,
if it doesn’t work, don’t tell me I didn’t warn you.”

“Fine.
So let’s get going here.”

“Jack
will be here in ten. Let’s wait on him.”

We
chat about our mom and his wife until Jack breezes in. Then it’s balls to the
briefcases. By the time lunch rolls around, I’m starting to drag. They go out
and I stay in for a little nap. They bring me something back.

I’ve
had my power nap and eat while they talk about what our next steps are.
Contracts are already pending for several companies, albeit smaller ones. But
Kolson is sending two dynamos down for this office as sales reps. I tell them
about the contacts I’ve made at the party I went to with Carter. We have
meetings set up in two weeks with companies in Charlotte. Jack will attend
those with me. That pushes us close to Thanksgiving.

“It
looks like the house closing is on schedule too. The realtor called last night.
Maybe a month out.”

Kolson
says, “So, we’ll all be celebrating the holidays in Charleston, huh?”

“Yeah,
maybe. By the way, dinner tonight is at seven.” I give them both the address so
they can tell their drivers. Then we get back to work on accessing the Carolina
Panthers. We’re drawing up our proposals for business when I hear a loud commotion
outside my office. I look up in time to see the door open and Shayla arguing
with someone. Initially I can’t see who it is, but then I hear her voice. I
look at my watch and shake my head. Kolson and Jack give me a “What’s this all
about?” look.

“It’s
okay, Shayla. Let her in.”

Carter
enters and stands there, arms akimbo, hair every which way but right and points
at me. “You were supposed to work for eight hours. Those were your orders.”

Kolson
stares at me with one brow lifted and I know there’s going to be hell to pay
for this one.

“Sorry,
angel, I lost track of time.”

“You’re
sick. You have the flu.”

“I’m
fine. Come over here and meet my brother and his right-hand man.”

She
stomps across the office, and when she gets to me I grab her around the waist
and pin her onto my lap.

“Gentleman,
I’d like you meet the most brilliant woman in the world, Dr. Carter Drayton,
who will most likely be the reason behind the cure for cancer. Carter, this is
my brother Kolson, and his assistant Jack McCutcheon.”

“It’s
a pleasure,” Carter says, as she squirms a bit.

“The
same. Curing cancer, huh?” Kolson asks.

“Well,
that’s a bit of an over simplified explanation of my research, but yes. At
least that’s what I’m shooting for.”

They
ask about what she does and after she elucidates, it’s easy to see how
impressed they are. Kolson starts drilling her with all kinds of questions
because she’s sparked his interest and she answers a few. But then she cuts him
off. I laugh to myself because no one ever does this to my brother. Well, no
one except his wife and me.

“I’m
not trying to be rude, but your brother has been really sick and he needs to
rest. We’ll see you both tonight at the house for dinner. Seven-
ish
.
Very casual.
And I hope you
like seafood.” She smiles and they return it. She stands and holds out her
hand. She makes it impossible for me to refuse her.

“See
you both tonight,” I say, as I follow her like a puppy dog out the door.
 

Kolson
shoots me a look that lets me know I’m in for an assload of explanations later.

When
we get outside, I say, “Well, that was a nice exit strategy.”

“I
warned you so I won’t apologize. Now get in the car.”

“Damn,
you
are
bossy.”

“Only
when I need to be.”

She’s
very quiet when on the drive home. Her brow is furrowed and she’s white
knuckling the steering wheel.

“You
going to tell me what’s bothering you? Or are you just angry with me for not
leaving when I said I would?”

“There
is that. But your brother looked at me like I was from Mars. You didn’t tell
him about us, did you?”

“Actually,
I did.”

Her
head whips to the right.

“Watch
the road, angel.”

She
turns back to look at the interstate. “Then why did he look at me like I was an
alien?”

“Because
you are to him. Listen, I don’t usually date women.” Then I laugh. I just made
myself sound gay, which I’m not. “Maybe I should rephrase that. I’m not the
dating kind. I go out with women but I don’t date them. Does that make sense?”

“You
use them?”

“Not
exactly. They know up front what my deal is. I don’t play games and I don’t
lie.”

She
doesn’t respond, but her brilliant mind is hard at work, trying to digest what
I just laid out for her.

“I
told you, I’m the wolf, and you should run like hell. That’s why he looked at
you like that. Trust me, he’s going to have a million questions for me, too.”

We
exit the interstate as we hit downtown Charleston.

“Why
don’t you date?”

“Now
that’s a question with a very complicated answer.”

“I’m
fairly astute. I think I can follow.” An edge of sarcasm accompanies her
response.

“The
truth?”

“No,
Kestrel, I want you to lie. Of course I want the truth! I wouldn’t ask you if I
didn’t want the truth.”

“My
past is so fucked up I never wanted to get involved in a relationship because I
didn’t think it would be fair for someone else. That’s part of it. The other
part is I’m pretty much an ass most of the time and I have too many issues to
lay on anyone. I’m a lot to take on and anyone that gets involved with me would
be walking a tightrope most of the time. I live with the constant fear that
I’ll turn into my father and I would never want to put that on anyone.”

“But,
Kestrel, you don’t know how you’ll be unless you give yourself that chance.”

“Give
me your hand.”

“Huh?”

“Your
hand. Let me hold it, please.”

She
holds out her hand and I take it in mine. “You know that touch is something I
used to crave, right? Like a drug. I did anything to get it, too. The technical
term is attachment disorder, specifically fearful-avoidant/dismissive-avoidant.
For the last year, I’ve worked hard on trying to focus on pulling myself away
from the cravings. Remember how I told you I go through stages now where I
crave it, and where I can’t stand it? I
crave
you, angel, like nothing I’ve ever craved before. It’s something I can’t
describe. That time you touched me and I freaked, it disturbed me because I
wanted
your touch. I was unprepared for it and afterwards I felt horrible. That’s only
one example. There are plenty more of my fuck-
uperies
.
Like that nightmare I had.”

She
contracts her fingers around mine and asks, “What did he do to you?”

“Too
much to taint you with. He’s dead now and you’re safe from him.”

“What’s
that mean?”

“He
was evil incarnate. If he were still alive, I would have to protect you from
him.”

“Why
would he want to hurt me?”

“For
the same reason he tried to kill my sister-in-law. He would want to destroy anything
I valued. And that’s why I worry about becoming like him.”

“But
Kestrel, you’re nothing like that.”

I
close my eyes, remembering my life as a child with the demon of a father I had.

“Don’t
say things you know nothing about.”

She
pulls into my drive and we get out of the car. It’s already after six.

“Carter,
I appreciate you having us all over for dinner. I’ll change. Why don’t you go
on since I know you have some things to prepare?”

She
laughs. “Trying to get rid of me already?”

I
wish I was strong enough to do just that, but I’m not.

“Not
a chance. I want to experience more of your excellent culinary skills.”

She
raises her eyes to the sky. “Ah, he likes me for my cooking.” The she lets out
a bubble of laughter. “See you in a few.”

It
doesn’t take me but a couple of minutes to change and on the way out I grab a
few bottles of wine, both white and red. I’m tired and wish I could stay here
and sleep. It’s been a long day. As an afterthought, I grab a T-shirt and a
toothbrush, just in case.

When
I arrive at Carter’s, the gate is open, so I drive in and park in the driveway.
I walk up the back steps and enter the kitchen. She’s already busy chopping up
some vegetables.

“I
brought some wine,” I say as I put it into the refrigerator.

“I
can see that. Thank you.”

She
tells me she’s making my favorite—wahoo. I’m happy because they’ll both
love it.

“Are
you going to cook it like you did last time?”

“I’m
going to grill it. And I’ll grill the veggies, make a grilled romaine salad,
and I’ve already put the potatoes in the oven.”

“Baked?”

“No.
Greek potatoes. I came home for lunch and prepped some things.”

“Aren’t
you smart?”

“I’ve
been told as much. Would you like a glass of wine?”

“No
thanks. One glass and I’d be out.
The cough medicine.
Remember?”

“Right.
And you look exhausted. You have purple shadows under your eyes.”

“I
am. We’ll eat fast, show them the house, and make them leave.”

“Ha
ha
. I have an idea. I’ll cook and while I’m doing
that, you show them the house.”