Fall On Me (15 page)

Sighing heavily, Mike moved away from the
door and walked over to my desk. As he sat in the chair in front of
me I couldn't help but notice he didn't have the usual air of
assholeness around him. His shoulders were slumped. His face was
full of some emotion I'd couldn't put a name on. He
looked…vulnerable. Fuck, now where did that come from?

Mike slumped in the chair in front of me and
sighed. "I'm sorry."

He was sorry?

Had I heard that right?

"You should be," I muttered as I tried to
summon my anger. It wasn't coming. He wasn't baiting me and I had
no fucking clue how to handle this version of my brother. Was this
guy the same brother I despised? He didn't look the same. He
definitely didn't sound the same. "What the hell is wrong with
you?" I blurted out, confused as fuck. "You're never sorry. I've
never heard you apologize for anything in your spoilt, entitled
life."

"She didn't love me," he whispered. "She
played me, Kyle. I need to know why she would do that."

Who? "Rachel?" He should feel glad Rachel
didn't love him. She
loved
me and look how she showed it.
The both of us had gotten tangled up with a bad fucking woman and
as far as I was concerned Mike had a lucky escape. That girl was
bat shit crazy and if Mike was still pining for her after all these
years then he was just as crazy as she was.

Goddammit, if Frank had just left everything
to Mike or David we wouldn't even be having this discussion. Mike
would be all loved up the crazy one and my girl wouldn't have holes
in half her body or that god awful limp when she walked. Cam would
still be alive and Derek would still have his sanity.

I would have met Lee whether I inherited the
hotels or not. She was always going to come running to Cam–to
Thirteenth Street–and I was always going to be the one to break her
fall. I was snared the second I laid eyes on her and if I had been
free back then I wouldn't have made half the mistakes I made with
her. It would have been easy for us. Like other peoples
relationships. Instead, I had to fight every day I woke up just to
keep us together. She was mad as hell at me right now and it
fucking sucked. It had been a week since the disaster that had been
my intervention and I was still silently simmering with rage.

That asshole Bromwick had gotten off lightly
with a three month suspension. And Lee, she'd gotten off lightly
too. I knew she wasn't very confident, but Christ, she'd been
bleeding.
Bleeding.
She needed to learn to trust her own
instincts. Just because some asswipe doctor told her she was wrong
she rolled over like a dog. It fucking made my blood boil. She was
smart. I knew she was. She needed to use her brain. Seriously, the
girl was hopeless when it came to taking care of her body.
Sometimes I wondered if she even cared about herself. She didn't
act like it. She didn’t fucking tell me anything…

Yesterday, she swanned off when I was
working without telling me where she was going. I'd nearly lost my
mind with worry when I realized she was gone. I hadn't been able to
concentrate worth a damn until she came back. Yeah, she had only
taken Hope out for a walk, but still… Running off the cemetery was
pointless. Cam was dead. She couldn't keep her safe. That was my
fucking job and she was making it hard on me. She didn't seem to
understand how dangerous it was to be wandering around on her own.
She was the sole survivor, and main witness to a murder, and didn't
seem to have a clue of the trouble that could be lurking around the
damn corner. I didn't want to unnecessarily frighten her, but Jesus
Christ, Rachel's letters worried me.
Terrified me…

We hadn't resolved anything about her mom. I
knew I messed up by cornering her, but Lee wouldn’t talk about it
and I was afraid to broach the subject. We were just covering up
our problems and trudging on and the worst damn thing was I didn't
even know if that was what we were supposed to do or not. This was
my first relationship…like real honest to god
have-to-make-this-work-or-die-trying relationship and it wasn't
like I had a father who I could turn to for advice. All I had was
Derek, and the mood he was in lately meant I couldn't exactly drop
my problems on him. And Lee…she had about as much worldly
experience as a goldfish and was as fragile as a butterfly–
as
flighty as one, too
. I was her first everything. The pressure I
felt to keep us afloat was weighing heavily on me. Jesus, it felt
like we were fumbling around in the dark. We were both as clueless
as each other…

"Mike," I said with a sigh. "Rachel played
everyone. You're not an exception here. Be glad you're not me."

He shook his head and exhaled a shaky breath.
"I'm talking about Cam."

Oh sweet Jesus. Pushing back my chair, I
stood up and bounced around with Hope in my arms. I had enough
problems. I had enough people leaning on me. When the hell had I
become everybody's agony aunt? I shook my head and looked down at
my daughter.
I hope you never has these problems, angel…If you
do then tell mommy. Daddy needs a break. He's not good with
drama…

"I'm not trying to get in between you and
Lee," he continued. "That's not my intention. I know my previous
actions make it look that way, but I'm not, Kyle. I swear. I just
have to know if Cam told her anything about me. I need
answers…"

"No," I said firmly, not asking what answers
he needed because frankly I didn't have enough room left to worry.
I didn't have that kind of relationship with my brother. We didn't
do deep conversations. Hell, we didn't do conversations,
period.

He'd gotten along well enough as
teenagers–hung out whenever he visited Frank's house, but that ship
had long sailed. Our grandfather had forced us together in the
beginning. Personally, I hadn't given two shits that I had a long
lost brother, but Mike had been curious about me. Apparently, he'd
been lonely and needed a friend…
Must have been hard growing up
in his daddy's million dollar mansion. Must have really sucked to
have a maid and a driver. Oh, and private school, a warm bed at
night and home cooked meals must have been just torture for the
poor little guy.

I'd gone along with the whole 'bond with your
brother' idea more out of boredom than anything else. I was only
three months older than Mike so we ended up doing a lot of shit
together. Guitar lessons, learning to drive and the importance of
wrapping it up …all the crap that our dad couldn't be bothered
teaching us, Frank had either taught us or hired someone to show
us. I'd almost pissed myself laughing throughout the 'sex talk'
with our seventy-two year old grandfather.

"Now, boys,"
Frank had told us when he
sat us down for 'the talk' when we were seventeen.
"Women are
gonna stick to both of you like flies. You have money and they love
shiny things. You're gonna have to watch out for the one's with
that glint in their eyes. You're both gonna have to learn how to
weave around the jezebels with your dicks securely in your
pants."
The virgin Mike had lapped up every word, nodding
enthusiastically. I'd merely smirked my way throughout the whole
thing. Frank's sex talk had come about two years too late for me. I
was fairly certain I knew more about a woman's body at seventeen
than good old Frankie. God, I was a dick back then...I dropped my
eyes to look at my daughter. Jesus, I hoped there wasn't any baby
boys being born that were anything like me.

I'd never be able to let her outside the
front door.

"Please, Kyle," Mike begged, pulling me out
of my daydream. "I need to know why she played me like this…"

I shook my head. Whatever was going on in his
head, he needed to keep it away from my fiancée. She didn't need
him dragging up the past and cutting open old wounds. "Don't even
think about putting any of your problems on her shoulders," I
warned him. "She has enough to deal with."
'Like me'
I
mentally added.

I waited for his smug grin and snide comment.
It didn't come. He merely nodded and fiddled with his thumbs.
"You're right," he mumbled in a dejected tone. "And for what it's
worth, I am sorry."

"I'm right?" I shook my head in confusion.
"You're sorry? Mike, what the hell is going on here? You hate
me…"

"I don't hate you, Kyle," he said quietly as
he stood up. "I've never hated you. I was jealous of you. But I've
grown up. I've woken up."

"What am I supposed to say to that?" I
asked.

"You're a good father, Kyle." Mike shrugged
and smiled at Hope. "You should be proud of yourself. God knows,
you didn’t learn how from our father." He lifted his chin and
stared directly at me. I caught a glimpse of pain in his eyes and
an unfamiliar feeling settled in the pit of my stomach.

Worry.

I was worried about Mike and it didn't sit
well with me.

I stood with my mouth hanging open as Mike
turned around and walked out of my office. "What just happened
here?" I whispered.

Hope grinned and I had a feeling that my six
month old daughter was more clued in than I was. I would have been
more prepared for Miss Piggy to walk through the door than I was
for this…shit bomb.

****

Lee

When Kyle came back to the restaurant with
Hope, he was in a weird mood. I'd been expecting to be told off for
leaving the suite. I had my entire speech rehearsed and ready to
throw at him. I hadn't expected the contemplative look he wore on
his face, or the question he asked me.

"How was…Cam?" he asked as he sat in the
chair opposite mine, with Hope on his lap. "You know, before
the…how was she? Was she acting strangely? Say anything out of the
usual?" He looked at me apologetically–like he thought it hurt me
to talk about her. He couldn't be more wrong. I wanted to talk
about Cam all of the time. Derek was the one who wanted to erase
her from his mind. I needed to keep her fresh. It helped. She
needed to be remembered.

"What do you mean?" I asked him as I rested
my elbows on the table and leaned closer to him. I watched as he
stroked Hope's little fist with his thumb and brushed a kiss to her
head. I could tell that he was thinking of how to phrase his next
sentence. "Do you mean the night of the shooting?" I offered.

"No," he said quickly. Pushing a butter knife
out of Hope's reach, he scratched his clean-shaven jaw. "Mike said
something to me…but it's probably nothing. I don't want you
worrying about this shit…"

"What?" I prayed Mike hadn't been stirring up
trouble. "Kyle, what did he say?"

His eyes locked on mine and I could feel his
confusion. "He said she didn't love him," he whispered. He shrugged
his shoulders, clearly uncomfortable. "He thinks she played him.
Why would he say that, Lee? It makes no sense."

"Cam?" I asked and Kyle nodded. Mike had told
Kyle that Cam didn't love him? That she played him? "I don't know
why he would say that," I muttered. I didn't know why she would
tell him that either. This was so confusing. Cam had walked away
from Derek for Mike. Of course she'd loved Mike. There was no other
explanation for her actions. She told me she loved him. They were
going on a trip…

"Forget it," Kyle said breaking through my
thoughts. I blinked over at his face. "We don't need to worry about
this," he continued. "We have our own troubles."

"Yeah," I whispered, but I wasn't going to
forget it. I needed to know. What was going on with Cam before she
died? Why was this coming out now? None of this made any sense to
me. I couldn't get my head around it…My breath caught in my throat
as my mind clicked. "Oh my god," I yelled as I slammed my palm on
the table.

My outburst startled Kyle because he jerked
back from the table. "What?" he asked, eyes wide and unblinking.
"You nearly gave me a goddamn heart-attack." He let out a breath.
"Jesus Christ, Lee."

"I need your help," I said with a grin as I
pushed my chair back and stood. "It's in the house. Oh my god, I
just know it, Kyle. I can feel it in my bones."

"What house?" he asked as he stood up with
Hope in his arms. "What the hell are you talking about, baby?"

"Cam's journal," I practically sang. "She
always
kept a journal. If we read it…then maybe we'll know
what was going on in her head and find out why she...."

"Whoa," Kyle said in a stern tone of voice.
"We are not doing that. No fucking way, princess. It's none of our
business…"

"Kyle," I snapped. "Don't you want to know
what was going on in her head? Why she did what she did?"

"No." He shook his head and glared at me. "I
am perfectly content to never know."

"Please?" I begged. "Please, Kyle?"

"No way, Lee," he growled. "No goddamn
way."

****

Kyle

I should have known Lee wouldn't let this
drop. My stupid questions were the reason I was parked in the
driveway of my house in Thirteenth Street, with my fiancée
trembling in the seat next to me and my daughter cooing in the back
seat. If I wasn't so worried about her frame of mind right now, I'd
be seriously impressed with her progress. This was the closest
she'd been to the house since the shooting. "Lee, baby, everything
is gone. Her parents took everything." I had a bad feeling about
this. It didn't feel right and I usually trusted my gut feeling. It
was nearly always right.

I watched with my heart in my mouth as Lee
inhaled a shaky breath and turned her face towards me. "Please,
Kyle," she begged, eyes wide with fear and hope. "There has to be
something, some…clue that could help? I need to know."

"It's empty," I told her. "Lee, there is
nothing there. All that's left is her bed."

Her eyes widened as she jerked towards me and
grabbed my arm with her small hand. "Did you flip it?" she said
with excitement.