Surprise Delivery (Page 46)

“Don’t,” she says. “Get out of my way.”

“Alexis, wait. Let me explain,” I plead.

Her expression goes from one of rage to one of hurt and betrayal in the blink of an eye, and it kills me to see. She obviously thinks that somewhere deep down, I judge her like my brother does. That I think she’s using me for my money. Nothing can be further from the truth, but I just need her to stop and listen to me.

Instead, she pushes her way past me and starts off down the sidewalk, hurrying along at a rapid clip. It only takes me a moment to catch up with her and when I do, rather than grab her arm from behind, I move around and stop in front of her, not letting her pass.

“Get the fuck out of my way, Duncan.”

“Not until you hear me out.”

“What do you have to say that your brother didn’t already?” she exclaims. “Obviously, I’m just some poor, dumb, money-grubbing whore looking to hitch my wagon to you so that you’ll feed me and my baby. That much was perfectly clear.”

“Yeah, but that’s not me,” I say. “Henry is an asshole. He always has been and always will be. He’s an elitist prick. He thinks because he has money, he’s in a position to judge everybody else in this world.”

“And you can honestly tell me that you don’t think that way?”

I feel the embers of my own anger stirring. The fact that my brother is an arrogant asshole is one thing. That he can somehow manipulate Alexis against me is not just hurtful but enraging.

“Have I ever given you a reason to believe I think that way, Alexis?” I ask, my voice pained. “Ever? Have I ever said something that ignorant and judgmental?”

“Just because you haven’t said it doesn’t mean you don’t think it,” she spits back.

“Again, have I ever given you any reason to believe that I even think that way?” I ask, some real heat in my voice now. I hesitate for a moment and sigh. “I would never think of you that way. I care about you, Alexis. I just want you to be happy. I don’t care about money or anything like that.”

She stares at me for a long moment, my words seeming to not just stop her in her tracks, but to give her something to think about. I can see the wheels spinning in her head and know that given a few minutes, she’s going to realize that she’s reacting out of emotion – which is understandable, given how fucked up what Henry did was – rather than basing her thoughts on any sort of logic.

I’m not my brother, and my brother isn’t me – I need for her to see and understand that.

“I don’t want you for your money, Duncan,” she says.

“You think I don’t know that?” I ask. “My brother is a prick. That’s the one and only thing you need to take away from this. He will say and do anything to belittle those people he feels are beneath him – which is just about everybody, Alexis. Including me.”

“I haven’t asked you for a thing,” she persists. “Not one thing.”

“And I know that too,” I tell her. “This thing between us – this is real, Alexis. It’s very real. Don’t let my brother fuck this up for us. He’s not worth it.”

“Who is this woman, this – Vanessa – he mentioned?”

I roll my eyes and let out a long breath. “When I thought you were with Brad, I let Henry set me up with a woman from his office – Vanessa.”

“Y – you went out with somebody else?”

“I was trying to get my mind off of you because I thought you and Brad were – a thing. And that Aurora was his baby.”

A flash of something passes behind her eyes, but she quickly stuffs it down. It’s probably not relevant to this conversation, though, so I let it go.

“Anyway, we had dinner and I took her home. She invited me up to her place, but my head was still so caught up in you, I passed. Vanessa is nobody, Alexis. I never even called her again after that night,” I say. “I have zero interest in her. That was just Henry trying to stir up even more shit between us.”

“Why does he hate me?” she asks.

“He doesn’t hate you,” I say. “Henry’s deal is control. Because he did not select and approve of me being with you, he’s going to do whatever he can to sabotage this. It’s all about control with him, Alexis. I’m thirty-seven fucking years old and he’s still trying to control my life the way he did when we were kids.”

She looks into my eyes, and I know she has to see the sincerity and earnestness burning bright. She has to see all of the emotion I feel for her.

“My brother will never understand what you and I have. He’s incapable of feeling this deeply, Alexis,” I continue. “He’s never going to understand what it is to truly care for somebody with everything in you. He’ll never understand just how much or how deeply I care for you. Never in a million years.”

She reaches up and lays her hand against my cheek, the ghost of a smile touching her lips. I can see that she’s still stung by what Henry said, but I’m hoping she’s finding her way through the fog and darkness and will come back to me, the bright, shining light she’s been since the day I met her.

“I should get home,” she whispers. “I need to check in on Aurora.”

I nod, not wanting to crowd her. She obviously needs a little space and I need to give it to her. It’s difficult to do since I’d rather talk this out and be done with it, but I need to respect her boundaries. As I watch her head off down the sidewalk, the anger that’s been simmering inside of me starts to boil over. And there’s only one way I know of to properly release it.

It takes me almost an hour, but I finally catch up with Henry. After pulling that shit at the cafe, he probably knew I’d come looking for him, and apparently decided to come hide out at our mother’s house. She’s not going to be able to protect him from me.

I storm into the house and make my way to the parlor where I know I’ll find him. I step through the arch to find Henry on one couch, scotch in hand, my mother on the other across from him, a cup of tea on the table next to her and her nose buried in a book, and a fire roaring in the oversized fireplace. It’s a scene that looks so serene and tranquil.

Yeah, well, I’m about to disrupt that tranquility.

When Henry sees me storming in, his eyes grow wide in alarm. But then, he seems to catch himself and smooths out his features, doing his best to put that mask of cool indifference on his face again. It’s too late, though. I saw the fear in his eyes, which only fires me up even more.

“Did you really think you could hide here, motherfucker?” I roar.

“Duncan,” my mother says, looking up from her book. “Language, please.”

Henry stands up and starts to back away, but I don’t let him. I close the distance between us quickly and drive my fist straight into his face. Henry’s head snaps back and the sharp crack of flesh meeting flesh echoes around the room, which is quickly followed by the sound of my mother gasping in horror. Henry goes down, landing flat on his back, blood flowing freely from his nose.

I stand over him, glaring daggers at my brother as he puts his hands up to his quite obviously busted nose, trying to staunch the flow of blood. There’s a look of anger in his eyes, but it’s quickly driven out by the shine of absolute fear. I’ve never hit Henry before, so this is new ground – new ground that he obviously didn’t expect and that scares him. Good.

“Duncan,” my mother gasps. “What’s gotten into you? What in the hell have you done?”

“Ask your eldest son here,” I say, my eyes still locked onto his.

Other than his groans of pain, Henry remains silent. He’s just lying there, holding his nose. Giving him a kick in the leg, I turn and walk to the sideboard, and pour myself a stiff drink. My mother continues to look at me, her eyes wide and filled with fear. Her mouth is opening and closing like a fish pulled out of the water. She’ll get her explanation once I’ve had time to have a drink or two to quiet the rage still burning within me.

I swallow down half of my drink and turn to see Henry slowly climbing to his feet. He’s glaring at me with a mixture of both hatred and fear, blood pouring out of his nose and turning his shirt a shade of scarlet. His eyes remain on me as he heads for the archway leading out of the room. I stop him before he walks out, though he asserts his last bit of defiance by refusing to turn around and look at me.

“You ever pull some shit like that again,” I warn, “and I won’t stop with just one punch. You so much as even think about her again and I’m going to fucking end you, Henry. Brother or not, I will fucking destroy you. Do you understand me?”

Without saying a word or acknowledging me or my screed, Henry continues on out of the room to clean himself up. If I was a betting man, I’d bet on him slinking out of the house without a word. That’s just who my brother is.

With him gone, I turn back to my mother. “I’m sorry you had to see that.”

“You’re obviously not that sorry,” she scolds. “You haven’t been able to get that self-satisfied smirk off of your face.”

“I think I have a right.”

“Oh? And tell me, what gives you the right to pummel your own brother, Duncan?”

I drain the last of my glass and then refill it before walking over and dropping down on the couch next to her. She sips her tea, looking at me with an expression of concern blended with mild disbelief.

“So? Are you going to tell me what’s happened that made you feel compelled to do – that?”