Total pages in book: 77
Estimated words: 77551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 77551 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 388(@200wpm)___ 310(@250wpm)___ 259(@300wpm)
This isn’t me.
I don’t emote.
I analyze.
Except where Jake is concerned.
And now Sienna.
I look away. Her gaze feels invasive, even though I know she means no harm.
We sit in silence for a while. She’s too busy processing her own feelings to notice my discomfort. The brother she so craved to connect with, dead before she ever had a chance to meet him.
“I need to know more,” she finally says. “Why did he...?”
How do I tell her without divulging the whole story?
Damn.
I should have never started down this road.
I can’t tell her how this all began without talking to the others first. It’s something we all swore to take to the grave.
And I honestly don’t know how Jake took his own life. All we got was his suicide note. His body was never found. We assumed he drowned himself. He wasn’t a strong swimmer.
“The truth is,” I begin, a lump forming in my throat, “I don’t entirely know. Jake kept a lot of things to himself. He was quiet about his struggles.”
It’s not a complete lie.
Misty’s eyes are full of longing, and a sadness that mirrors my own. It’s almost unbearable to look at her. She looks so much like Jake. The same soft golden hair, the same sparkling blue eyes, even the same way her lips tremble as if she’s holding back an overwhelming surge of emotion.
“I wish I could have met him,” she murmurs, her voice barely a whisper. “It feels like I’ve lost someone I never knew.”
“You have,” I reply honestly. “And I’m sorry for that.”
She nods, wiping away a stray tear with the back of her hand. “Nothing can change what happened, right?”
“No,” I sigh. “Nothing can.”
She takes in a slow breath, pulling herself together. “What was he like? What did he like to do? Did he have any favorite things?”
God, this is gutting me.
Why did I say I’d tell her about him?
Just looking at her, seeing so much of him in her...
It’s breaking me, little by little. The memories.
What I want more than anything is to go back to the house, grab Sienna, tell her how I’m feeling, and fuck her silly.
“He was just a good guy,” I say. “I know that sounds lame, but there’s no better way to describe him. He always did what was right. Or he tried to, anyway. And he loved fiercely. He was protective of his single mom, and of his girlfriend.”
She gasps. “He had a girlfriend?”
Fuck. Now I’ve opened another can of worms.
“Where is she? I want to talk to her. She’ll be able to tell me all kinds of things.”
I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.
“And my birth mother. I couldn’t find her. I’ve got investigators all over this, but they haven’t found her. Where is she, Brett? Where is she?”
“I don’t know,” I answer truthfully. “I don’t know what became of Lisa. She disappeared after Jake died.”
“So there’s hope. She may still be alive. I mean, my people haven’t found a death certificate or anything.”
“There’s always hope, Misty.” I meet her gaze, trying to convey a reassurance I don’t feel. “Lisa was a wild spirit. Always on the move. Just because no one’s found her yet doesn’t mean she isn’t out there somewhere.”
My words ring true. She worked so many different jobs, and...
Well, we all had our suspicions about what she was doing when she stayed out all night. That usually happened when she and Jake were in a particularly bad way.
Apparently she was paid to have Misty. But how did Misty end up with the Holmes family? Why would a hotel magnate adopt a child from a poor woman from a small town in Montana? How would they ever have crossed paths?
“What about the girlfriend?” Misty urges me. “Who was she?”
Again, I grapple with the question. How much should I tell her? The past is a minefield, and every spoken word could potentially detonate another explosion.
“Her name was Marnie,” I finally say. “I don’t know what happened to her.”
The lie is bitter on my tongue.
“Can we find her? Maybe she knows something.”
“I don’t know.”
“What’s her last name?”
Marnie Bishop. That was her name.
And she was carrying Jake’s child.
I can’t talk about this anymore. If I say too much...
My heart aches for Misty, for the loss that is so fresh and raw. The hole in my own heart feels as if it has been ripped wide open, and though no one can repair it completely, my love for Sienna is a beacon in the darkness.
I swallow hard, the edge of panic cutting into my calm. I can’t go there. I can’t spill our secrets.
“I don’t remember, Misty,” I lie. “It’s been too long. All these years, and the details feel like they’re fading away.”
Her eyes go hard for a moment, and I expect her to revert to the spoiled hotel heiress—the one who drove River to the brink.