Page 42 of The Inquirer

“My sister, Ashley, is four years older than me. She’s the golden child, can do no wrong, you know?”

I did know, but his question was rhetorical. Not that I would’ve answered it, anyway. Bringing up my sister would just lead to a whole other shitload of questions and baggage.

“She’s always done everything our parents wanted, which means she and I aren’t really close. I’ve never really understood how she fell in line with their rules and regulations, and she never understood why I wouldn’t.” He slowed to a stop at a light, his fingers drumming against the steering wheel as we waited for it to change to green. “Her husband’s basically the same way. Warren’s twelve years older than her.”

A memory popped up. The name Warren. A man named Warren Lester was a junior partner at Check & Sons. I hadn’t looked into him, though. I’d barely even registered his name.

“She was seventeen when they met. He works for the law firm that my family’s always used.”

That answered a few of my questions. The name I’d read and Bradyn’s brother-in-law were the same person. Check & Sons had been the Traylor’s lawyers for a long time. And Bradyn knew the law firm’s name.

“My parents had been thrilled, but I never understood how they’d been okay with a man who was almost thirty pursuing their teenage daughter. I really wonder sometimes if he’d been the one to insist on waiting until Ashley was eighteen before they went out. Makes me think better of him, but I’ve never asked.”

I heard the part of the statement Bradyn wasn’t making. He hadn’t asked because if he was wrong, it would change how he looked at his brother-in-law.

“They got married right after she turned nineteen, and their oldest, Warren Jr., was born a year later.” Some of the tension in him had gone away, and as he turned into the hospital parking lot, he seemed much more in control of himself. “Betsy came along three years after that, and then Clancy.”

The way Bradyn’s voice cracked on the name told me how much he loved his nephew. I felt sick to my stomach, wondering what had happened to the kid. The part of me that fought to put myself first, to run away from anything that could possibly hurt me, begged me to leave. It’d be easy to call a cab and go back to the ranch, leave Bradyn with his family. I didn’t belong here.

As he parked the truck, I thought of what I’d say, how I’d get myself out of my promise to stay with him. Before I could say a word, he reached over and grabbed my hand, his grip painfully tight.

“He’s only six years old, Nyx.”

Fuck.

I couldn’t leave him. Even if this thing between us never went any further than the rest of the time I was here, I’d never forgive myself if I abandoned him. My life was full of enough regrets. I didn’t need to add one more, especially one like this. I knew all too well what it was like to be thrown away by people who should have been there.

“If something happens to him–”

Bradyn shook his head, unable to continue, but I understood. If Rose had been the one in the hospital, I’d be just as lost. I leaned over and kissed him. Just a brush of my lips across his, comfort not sex.

“Don’t start in on the ifs. Let’s see what’s going on, find out the facts.” I kissed him again. “All right?”

He inhaled slowly and then let the breath out the same way. I watched him steady himself and then he nodded. As we walked across the parking lot, he reached over and took my hand, our fingers lacing together as if we’d been walking like this for years.

If the situation had been different, I’d probably have been reading into it, wondering what it all meant, but right now, all of that was pushed to the back of my mind. Pushed back and then down into boxes. Bradyn was the priority.

The woman at the desk directed us to the elevator and gave us a floor number. It wasn’t until we stepped off the elevator that we realized where we were.

Surgery.

Shit.

We followed the arrow directing us to the waiting area, anxiety growing with each step. I gritted my teeth, reminding myself that I was here for Bradyn. Whatever he needed from me, I’d give, even if it meant suddenly having six people staring at me.

“What are you doing here?” A tall man with steel gray hair and bright blue eyes was the first to speak.

Clancy Traylor. Even if I hadn’t seen a picture of him, I would’ve known who he was. The resemblance to Bradyn was strong.

“I told him Clancy was here.” The oldest woman in the room spoke up. Jaylin Traylor had the same stubborn set to her jaw that Bradyn did.

“That wasn’t your decision to make.”

“Daddy, please!” The words came from a blonde woman with a sugar-sweet Southern accent and tears in her light brown eyes.

A tall, lean man with thinning hair almost the same shade as mine put his arm around the blonde. Ashley and Warren Lester. The red-haired boy in one of the seats behind them was Warren Jr., and the strawberry blonde with the sour expression was Betsy.

At least I didn’t need Bradyn to introduce me to everyone. Between the research I’d done and the information he’d given me on the way here, I had names for faces without needing to ask.

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