finally in on a secret. Although he’s done a really shitty job at hiding it.
“Don’t start,” I threaten. “This is my life too. So go ahead and tell us what you found out about the paternity tests.”
Brendan shoves the chair, and it ricochets loudly off the table. He inhales deeply through his nose and barely collects himself. “I don’t know. It’s another reason I wanted to talk to you.” He glowers at Grant and Lance before continuing, “The lab where the tests were conducted was bought out and closed down two years ago. I’m trying to find out who purchased it because they may still have the results. But it’s some shell company … which is weird. I’m still looking into it. But we need to talk.”
Lance pulls out a chair and sits. “Yeah. Let’s talk.”
“Uh, not you. This is between me and Lana.”
“Not if it has to do with my family,” Lance argues, trying to sound intimidating but sadly failing.
Brendan harrumphs indignantly. “Your family has done nothing but cover up this entire mess for the past seventeen years. There’s no way in hell I’m talking about it with you or any of your brothers.”
“Guess you won’t be talking then because I’m not leaving.” Lance crosses his arms defiantly, like he’s won this argument. Poor guy.
“Fine. I’ll go,” I announce and spin around to find Ashton standing in the doorway.
“What’s going on?”
We stare at her wordlessly.
Her attention fixates on Brendan. “Brendan, what do you have to talk to Lana about?”
Brendan avoids her scrutiny, eyes fixed firmly on me. I swallow, not wanting to be in the middle of what is or isn’t happening between them. No one offers an explanation. It’s like we’ve all stepped on landmines and are afraid to move.
“Lana?” she pleads.
I can only look back mournfully. She shakes her head in disbelief.
“I get it. You can’t say anything because it’s a secret. So many fucking secrets!” Her voice grows louder as she talks. “If we can’t trust each other, then what the fuck?” She focuses on Brendan again. Her words said through gritted teeth. “Brendan. This isn’t protecting me.”
He still refuses to look at her.
Her eyes become glassy, and her voice breaks. “You promised.”
Brendan visibly flinches but otherwise remains unmoved.
Ashton spins and rushes away.
I spit out in disgust. “You don’t love her.”
I never found love. Never. Even when I lied to myself and believed I had.
I race after Ashton as she weaves through the Court. I’m panting and can’t keep up. But this time, I know where she’s going.
By the time I arrive at Screaming Point, she’s releasing her heartache so loudly, I think she may crack the sky. I stand back, while she expels every breath until her legs give out and she falls to her knees, sobbing.
“I want to hate him,” she bellows, wrapping her arms around her waist like she’s trying to hold herself together. “I want to hate him so much.”
I slowly approach and kneel next to her, carefully touching my hand to her back like I might break her. She leans into me, and cries escape so violently that they pierce my heart. I hold her the best I can.
I don’t tell her it’ll be okay. I don’t diminish her pain. Her hurt. Her anger. I allow her to feel every single emotion that pours out through her tears. That shakes with her racking sobs. She owns her feelings, and I won’t be the one to pacify them away. They belong to her.
I can sense the moment she eases back into herself and returns to being present with me. I allow her to pull away but take hold of her hand to let her know I’m still here with her. That I’m not going anywhere for as long as she needs me.
Ashton breathes in deep and releases the last of it, allowing it to be carried away on the wind that gently brushes past us, like it knows it’s holding something sacred.
I finally see her. My friend. Free of the facade she’s been wearing all week. Maybe her entire life. The person she’s been suppressing with her vape or shots of tequila.
The truth is, she is broken. But strong. Angry. Yet resolute. She has a story, and from the vulnerability shimmering in her blue eyes, I know she’s ready to tell it.
“He’s always been there when I’ve needed him. He promised to protect me. That’s why he’s so angry about what happened at the barn—it reminds him of the time he couldn’t.