The Ahern Brothers Collection - Claudia Burgoa Page 0,78
grit my teeth so hard, my jaw aches. She can’t just be gone. I hoped to see her one last time before she left.
“She’s gone?” I thread a hand through my hair.
“Oh, not yet. I’m borrowing her car.” He jingles the keys.
“She’s leaving on Wednesday though,” he informs me. “She’s planning on driving northeast. She’s staying in Cleveland for a few days with a friend from college and then driving to Toronto.”
“Is she in the building?” I stand up, putting on my jacket. Maybe I can change her mind about leaving me.
“Yeah. She’s also transferring some files. I convinced her to work for me and keep the charity shit going since no one else has time and she genuinely cares.”
“Grants,” I correct him. “Will she work for Mom?”
“How would I know?” He shrugs one shoulder.
“Abby’s been ignoring her calls. She feels like a poser for lying to her all these years.”
“That’s bullshit.”
“Hey, don’t shoot the messenger,” he warns me. “She’s feeling guilty about everything: keeping the truth from our parents, for Ava’s death. Survivor guilt is real and can make the person assume things that aren’t true.”
“How do you know about it?” My mind is blown by everything that he’s been saying for the past few days.
“My roommate during sophomore year had PTSD,” he says. “His brother committed suicide, and he found his body. I learned a lot from him while he was fighting his demons and trying to get better.”
“How is he?”
“It doesn’t go away if that’s what you’re expecting to hear. You learn to deal with it. We have to read about PTSD and learn how to help her.”
“She’s leaving me,” I remind him.
“For now. Maybe someday she’ll come back to you,” he sounds confident.
I want to believe that what he says is true. Faith and hope, Mom says it all the time. That it’s all we have. Do we?
Fuck. This isn’t about me, but I felt my entire world coming apart after she announced that she was leaving. Leaving me. I have no idea what to do for her or how to stop her from leaving.
Then the answer hits me right in the head. Letting her go is the only way to help her. We’ve stopped her from leaving so many times. Ava, my parents … even me. If she had done it when she first thought of running, she’d be safe. She’d be free. I’m not going to be responsible for her sadness.
“Sir,” Anita knocks on the door. “Your eleven o’clock is here.”
I stiffen. Shit, for a minute I forgot about HIB.
“Take them to the conference room.”
“Well, I’m on my way out.” Sterling turns to the door and takes a step back when he sees two men outside my office. “Did you call the National Guard?”
The men outside wear black cargo pants and plain black t-shirts. They’re in combat boots, buzz cuts, and the utility belts they wear seem to have several compartments, but neither one of them has a gun. I sigh with relief. I should tell Anita to keep security alert in case they become a problem.
“What the fuck are you doing, Ahern?” Abby is outside her office, glaring at the men as if they were scrawny and a foot shorter.
“Consulting,” I answer, taking my jacket with me. “If you’ll excuse us.”
“You’re going to tell them, aren’t you?” She puts her hands on her hip.
“I explained to you that this isn’t child’s play.” Her hands drop to her sides, forming fists of tension, her chest leaning toward me. “Do you have any idea what could happen to your family, you, or even the company if he finds out?”
She wags a finger at the men in front of us. “These clowns are powerless.”
One of them, the guy with brown hair and dark green eyes glares at her, then looks at the other man. “She’s going to be a problem. We should’ve brought Luna along.”
I frown. Who is this guy, and who the fuck is Luna?
“Excuse me?” Abby glares at him then at me.
She’s ready to kick my ass.
“Mason Bradley,” the guy with black hair and gray eyes extends his hand. “This is Anderson Hawkins. I wish we had met under different circumstances, Miss Lyons.”
“Weston Ahern,” I introduce myself, shaking his hand and blocking Abby from their view. “Please follow me.”
Bradley nods and then smirks at my brother. “Mr. Ahern, my sister’s a huge fan. I’ll be in touch. She wants to commission a few pieces.”
Sterling, who never misses a chance to hand out his card,