That night I lay in bed staring at the ceiling of my darkened bedroom. I couldn’t believe—couldn’t wrap my mind around the fact—that I hadn’t heard from him. Unless everything I’d shared with him had been a lie, there was something wrong.
It was well after midnight when I gave up trying to fall asleep and headed back into the living room. Everything I want to know might be right on his computer.
I picked up the laptop and took it with me to the couch. It wasn’t password protected which made me feel guilty, but not enough to stop. A file on its desktop caught my attention immediately: For Jade
There’s nothing wrong with reading something he wrote for me. I opened the folder and gasped when I saw how he’d titled the folders within it: Journal for Jade, Photos to show Jade, Places I’d like to take Jade. He’d told me that thinking of me had helped him through some dark days. So, he meant that, at least.
I settled back onto the couch and started to read the journal. He’d included such detail in the description of each excursion that I felt I was there with him—especially after looking over the photos that accompanied each entry. The depth of Kal’s understanding of those projects was impressive, but his admiration for each of the experts was the real beauty of the writing.
It didn’t hurt that he’d started each entry with: Jade, I wish you were here. Today I . . .
He had to care about me. So where was he?
An email icon caught my attention. I won’t read more than I have to. Proof that he was okay would either be there or it wouldn’t be.
It wasn’t.
Outside of my email to him, most of his inbox was spam. I should have stopped there, but I clicked on one of his social media accounts. It loaded and opened; no hacking necessary since the passwords had been auto saved to his computer.
Regret came hard and fast.
He hadn’t made a recent post. On one hand that made me feel better even as it increased how worried I was for him.
I clicked on the message box. It held thousands and thousands of unread messages. As I read through them, my heart sank. So many were from women offering to hook up with him. Thousands of women. Most of the messages were in English. Many had photos attached. Some included images of women doing things to themselves that I could only assume was meant to turn him on.
Thousands.
I opened another of his social media apps and found the same. More women. Some men. More elicit offers. More photos.
I should have stopped there. I told myself to. I couldn’t. One after another I opened his accounts until I was physically sick from it and had to close the laptop.
So much for making me feel better.
I replaced the laptop on the table and kicked the table away from me. How stupid could I be? He wasn’t hurt and in need of rescue—he was with one of those women. Or maybe not, maybe he ran into one of the few women on earth who hadn’t written to him and decided to fuck her.
When will I learn?
How many times do I need to be in this place before I stop trusting men who don’t deserve it? Nikki was right. Kal is nothing more than a rebound guy.
I called in to work the next day, but not because I was ill as I claimed to be. I needed a day to mourn . . . and heal.
I finally have a life I love.
I refuse to let a man . . . any man . . . ruin that for me.
We’re over, Kal Ragsdale. I refuse to give you space in my head or my heart.
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
Kal
From the beach outside the hotel room I’d rented in Cape Cod, I read over Jade’s message again. Are you okay? How did it go?
I didn’t have an answer to that, no different than the day before when it had first come in. Not an answer I felt like texting anyway.
I’m not okay. Not at all.
Of all the scenarios I’d imagined when I’d headed off to confront Dominic, I hadn’t considered that he would best me simply by being a better brother. Everything he’d said before he’d stormed away had been spot-on true.
While he’d been calling Riley daily to see how she was, I’d been sending her calls directly to voicemail. Nearly two months had gone by since I’d spoken to her or our mother.
Why? I’d stopped talking to Riley when all of our conversations began to revolve around her wanting to get to know the Corisis. Our mother’s fear wasn’t enough to stop her. Warnings from me weren’t either. Somehow, we’d gone from being each other’s biggest cheerleaders and practically being able to read each other’s minds to lying to each other. She’d told me she wasn’t sneaking off to spend time with the Corisis and I’d told her I didn’t care either way.
I’d cared. I’d cared so much it made speaking to my mother excruciatingly painful. Conversations with her began to always turn to how concerned she was for Riley and how helpless that made her feel.
Simply because I was hellbent on completely fucking up, I’d also handled hearing from Gavin Wenham badly. He’d called to tell me I needed to be there when he proposed to my sister.
I wasn’t proud that I’d let his tone put me on the defensive. If I could do the conversation over, I would put my anger aside and ask him if he loved my sister. I hated that I’d ruined an opportunity to get to know his character. My temper had started to rise when Gavin offered to send me money if that was what was stopping me from coming. I’d lost the battle with my pride when he’d told me this was my opportunity to show my sister that I cared—as if I hadn’t done that for most of my life. The call had ended with him asking me flat out if I’d go and me saying I’d think about it.
I wanted to head home and fix the situation, but I didn’t know how. Dominic was right to judge me for that. I’d failed the people who mattered the most to me. In the end, all I’d done was leave them vulnerable to him. Lately everything I said and did made it worse rather than better for my family. If I went to Martha’s Vineyard, I’d probably fuck that up as well.
And Jade? What did I have to offer her? I wasn’t the man she thought I was—and pretending I could be would only lead to me disappointing another person I cared about. Sorry, Jade, you’re better off without me. Trust me, end things now before I have time to really fuck up.
A lone man in a suit caught my attention as he made his way across the sand toward me. Dominic? I rose to my feet. If he’d come for round two, I was up for it. I couldn’t see how that would make things better, but on the other hand, things couldn’t get much worse so—Bring it on.
As he drew closer, I realized it wasn’t Dominic, just someone who looked a lot like him. I took a wild stab and said, “Sebastian.”
He stopped a few feet from me, pocketed his hands, and rocked back on his feet. “Kal.”
“Did Dominic send you?”
“Abby actually.” He looked around. “Could we talk somewhere less—sandy?”
So, this was my other brother. I looked him over from his expensive leather shoes to his tie. “I appreciate that you—”
“No, you don’t, but I’ve been there. You feel like shit and the last thing you want is someone coming in and telling you that things will be okay because you can’t imagine a way they ever will be again.”
“That about sums it up.”