"You sure?" I ask, narrowing my eyes on him. He's been…quiet since I met his mom the other day. Tense. Sometimes, it's like he's a million miles away, fighting a battle I can't help him with. When I ask, he tells me that he's fine. But I don't think that's true. I don't think he believes it, either.
There was another article about his dad yesterday.
It kills me that it's still front-page news when, every damn time he sees it, he's forced to relive things he shouldn't ever have to think about again. And I know he is. I see it in his eyes.
I've never hated anyone before, not even my bio-mom. I think I hate his father. I hate that people admire him. I hate that people sing his praises. I hate that his memory lives on, tormenting Brantley and his mom. They deserve peace. And they're never going to get it like this. But I don't know what to do about that because it's not my decision to make. I can't tell their truth for them.
If I could, I'd shout it from the freaking rooftops and make sure every single person in Nashville knew exactly what kind of man Bellamy Hill really was. He doesn't deserve to be celebrated. He doesn't deserve to be mourned. Maybe he helped build this city and this industry. But this city and this industry are better off without him.
"You're teaching me, Isla. More than I realized I needed to learn," he says, his voice soft. "But I'm learning. Be patient with me."
"As patient as you need," I promise, smiling at him. "I'm not going anywhere."
"Yeah, you are."
My brow furrows in confusion.
He chuckles softly, smoothing it with a fingertip. "If you aren't home soon, Mac is going to lose his mind. It's getting late."
"Crap," I groan, squeezing my eyes closed as regret rushes through me. "I don't want to go."
"I know." He brushes a sweet kiss across my bottom lip. "But it isn't forever, little bird. Soon, you'll be mine forever."
"Forever, huh? I like the sounds of that, Brantley Hill."
He smiles, but it doesn't reach his eyes. It rarely does lately, and I'm not sure why. That worries me. I'm not sure what's going on with him, but he's hiding something. Struggling with something. And he won't talk to me about it.
I'm not sure he's talking to Daniel about it either. At least not judging from the lines of worry etched around the cowboy's eyes. They're slowly growing deeper. Daniel is worried about him too. Really worried.
"Are you sure you're okay?" I ask.
"I'm fine, baby," he says. "But we need to get you home."
I hesitate and then sigh quietly, giving up for now. I can't force him to talk. All I can do is wait him out. Sooner or later, he's bound to talk…right?
"Tell her," I order myself, sliding into the chair to call Bella on the VPN one of Cormac Carmichael's MC brothers set up so she could talk to us without the video feed being traced. "You have to tell her the truth about Brantley and Bellamy today."
I've been meaning to do it for the last three days. Every single time we talk, I open my mouth to tell her that I'm in love with Bellamy's son—the man she thinks is responsible for his murder.I open my mouth to tell her that the man she admired was a monster. But the words get stuck in my throat, refusing to dislodge.
The truth is, I'm a coward. I'm terrified she's going to hate me once I tell her the truth. So I just…don't tell her. But I can't keep it from her forever. Sooner or later, we have to talk about it. I want her to know Brantley—not the man his dad told her he was, but the man he really is. And I want her to be okay with the fact that I'm crazy about him.
But I don't even know where to begin having that conversation when Brantley doesn't want anyone to know who his dad really was. How do I tell my sister the truth and keep his secrets too? I already told my mom more than I should have about what he went through because I needed someone to know that he's not who everyone thinks he is. But his story isn't mine to tell. It isn't up to me to decide how and when to tell it. That has to be his choice. I don't think he'll ever truly heal until he decides to tell it.
But I'm worried he may never do that. Especially with the way he's been acting the last few days. Whatever is on his mind is heavy. Really damn heavy.
I hit the button to connect the feed.
"Iz!" Bella cries, her face popping up on the screen a few seconds later, her blonde hair piled up on top of her head in a messy bun. She's in Cormac's kitchen, seated at the island. She smiles brightly when she sees me, her eyes lighting up.
"Hey." I narrow my gaze on the screen, my lips twitching when I notice Cormac's massive hand sneaking into frame from the left. He's perfect for my sister. He's a little wild and bossy as hell, which is exactly what she needs because she's the same exact way. She needs someone like him to settle her, someone not afraid to tell her no or fight her when she's being unreasonable. And someone willing to be a little wild and crazy with her, too.If I could have chosen a man for her, it would have been one exactly like him.
"I swear to God, Tiny," she growls at him before he even manages to touch her. "If you don't stop touching me, I'm going to murder you in your sleep."
"I'm not touching you, Mischief. I was just reaching for my keys," he lies, his deep voice a rumble a sound.
"Oh, really. Are your keys attached to my boobs?" my sister retorts, scowling daggers at him.
"I don't know. Tell your sister to close her eyes so I can check."