Written With You Page 3

But I was such a coward. That was all it would ever be—silence.

  There had to be a way to stop this wrecking ball before it destroyed us all.

  Trent hadn’t said any more about my identity after Caven and I had come outside. I’d waited, expecting him to spill it all at any second. I was ready to lie and deny it with every fiber of my being.

  But that hadn’t been necessary. Trent had simply sat back, propped his feet up, and sipped a beer as he’d watched his niece fawn all over me.

  I’d put on a brave smile as I ate cake with Rosalee sitting on my lap, but as I’d left Caven’s house, I’d hugged that little girl extra tight, terrified that it might be the last time I felt her arms wrapped around my neck. Then, on the way home, I’d called Beth in a frenzied panic, giving her the rundown of the latest mountain we were forced to climb. I hadn’t been home ten minutes before she came bursting through my front door.

  My whole body shook as we made eye contact. There was no denying that I was on the verge of a panic attack—and not the kind a script from my doctor could head off. There was no stopping this runaway train.

  “He knows. This is bad. This is so, so bad.”

  “Relax,” she soothed, approaching me with caution as though I were an animal in the wild. “It’s not a big deal.”

  “It’s a huge deal. He’s going to tell Caven that I’m not Hadley. He’s going to tell him.” My voice cracked as the reality of what it’d mean if Trent told Caven crashed over me.

  She half shrugged. “What are the chances that Caven would even believe him?”

  “I don’t know. Trent’s his brother. Why wouldn’t he believe him? Once he introduces the idea to Caven, that’ll be it.”

  “Be real here.” Beth lifted my arms to inspect for bruises. “This asshole cop who doesn’t know how to keep his damn hands to himself has no proof. Speculation holds up in court about as well as an eye witness description from a wet dream. He’s not dumb. He’s not going to spill some crazy conspiracy theory without something to back it up.”

  I shook free of her hold and raked my hands through my hair. “It’s true though. He was totally right, and if he keeps searching—”

  “He can’t prove it.”

  “What about my medical records?” I croaked out over the pounding of my heart as it attempted to escape through my ribs. “You said it yourself. They’re the only flaw in my plan.”

  “Yes, but Hadley’s appendectomy will explain away your scar. A judge isn’t going to order an invasive physical based on hearsay.”

  I yanked up the side of my shirt. “No one is going to buy this as an appendectomy scar. No one.”

  “Then I’ll make them believe it.” Her gaze roamed over my face, her eyes imploring me to believe her. “This is my job, Lo. All we need is reasonable doubt, and we’ve got that in spades. We’ve got her journals and details about that night with Caven that no one but Hadley could ever know. I wouldn’t have agreed to help you if I didn’t know we could handle whatever came up along the way. I’m not worried about one man’s hypothesis. You shouldn’t be, either.” She punctuated each word with a jab of her finger.

  I shook my head and resumed my pace. How had this gone from Wednesday and Saturday art classes, birthday dinners where Caven called me his family, and a night of passion and orgasms to being one name away from losing it all?

  What a gigantic clusterfuck. It had been from the day I’d decided to become Hadley Banks.

  It wasn’t hard to become my sister. She’d died in my car, with my purse recovered at the scene of the accident. Her body had been mangled and then burned. Beth had spared me the details, but I knew there were no fingerprints left to be found. All signs had pointed to me. It was why Beth had accepted that I had been in that car for two weeks before flying to Puerto Rico to clean out my house.

  Hadley and I had pulled the twin switch numerous times throughout our life, but this was taking it to a new level. However, it was the only chance I had at getting to know little Keira—or Rosalee, as it turned out.

  I’d never wanted to hurt Caven. That was always the truth. But I had been too afraid to walk back into his life as Rosalee’s aunt. If he had slammed the door in my face, there would have been no recourse. I had no rights to her.

  But, as her mother, Hadley always would.

  Never in a million years had I planned to take her away from him. That wasn’t my place. But she was all I had left. All I would ever have.

  I just wanted to be a part of her life.

  I just wanted art classes on Wednesday and Saturday.

  I just wanted her to know that she was loved by our family, despite the fact that I was the only one left.

  Beth had been the executor of my estate with the understanding that everything would go to Hadley assuming she was mentally sound and sober enough to handle the fortune we’d amassed. Technically, my sister still owned half the business, but after her first stint in rehab, she’d been removed from all the bank accounts. It was her money, and I’d put it in a savings account for her. But she’d been using it for years to fund her habit. I hadn’t cared that denying her access to the money made me the bad guy as long as it kept her alive.

  In the end, I’d failed.

  Everyone.

  We were at the mall the day my parents died because of me.

  And Hadley was on the road, high and furiously trying to get away from me the day she’d hit that tree.

  I vowed not to fail Rosalee.

  Though, after listening to Trent accuse me of being the fraud I truly was, I was afraid I already had.

  Beth grabbed my hand and guided me to the couch. “Start at the beginning. I want to hear everything Officer Domestic Abuse thinks he knows about you. God, I wish you’d kneed him in the balls.”

  In hindsight, I wished I had too.

  For fifteen minutes, I told her everything. My birthday party. Trent showing up looking just like his father. Being cornered outside. His speculations. My conversation with Caven, then cake, presents, and rushing out of the house.

  When I finished, Beth nodded. “I’m only going to say this one more time. Trent Hunt is not a threat. He thinks he knows the truth—”

  “He doesn’t think, Beth. He knows!”

  She covered my mouth with her hand. “No. He thinks. In order to prove any of this, he’d have to wave his Son-of-Malcom-Lowe flag loud and proud. That is not a risk he can take. Not with his job. Not with his personal life. Not with anything. He and Caven have been trying to keep that shit under wraps for years. If he tells Caven, hell is going to break loose and he knows it. Otherwise, he would have done it today.” She dropped her hand and leaned in toward me. “I am telling you one last time: Do not worry about theoretical ramblings from a man who has way bigger skeletons in his own closet. My advice is to steer clear of Trent for, oh, say, forever. And never. Ever. Let Caven see your scar.”

  A flicker of relief washed through me. Maybe she was right. Trent hadn’t said anything to Caven. And maybe he wouldn’t. Hell, maybe I even passed his little physical assault lie detector test.

  But there was something else. I sucked in a deep breath and then told her everything.

  “I slept with Caven. But I didn’t take my shirt off. He never saw my scar, I promise.”

  She blinked.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Thrice.

  She swallowed hard. “Who do you want right now?”

  “What?”

  “Who do you want? Beth Watts, Attorney at Law or your best friend, Beth Watt-a-licious Watts.”

  It was my turn to blink.

  Once.

  Twice.

  Thrice.

  “Which one doesn’t involve you yelling at me for sleeping with Caven?”

  With a curt nod, she replied, “Watt-a-licious it is. Spill. I want all the dirty little secrets about you losing your virginity to a man who doesn’t even know your name.”

  I shot her a glare. “It wasn’t my virginity.”
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  “Sorry to inform you, but Hadley and I voted years ago that ten seconds of just the tip when you were seventeen doesn’t count.”

  “It wasn’t just the tip.”

  “Oh, sorry, I forgot it was pencil dick Brad Harris. Just the eraser is more like it.”

  Another round of blinking later, I curled my lip. “You know what? Give me Attorney Beth. I’m not in the mood for you.”

  “Not a problem.” She shoved off the couch and leaned into my face. “What the hell is wrong with you?”

  “I don’t know, okay? It just happened. I thought I was texting you, but I was actually texting him. And then he showed up at my door and kissed me. And the next thing I knew, we’d gone through two condoms from the apocalypse.” She arched an eyebrow, but I kept going. “He told me he could have handled the woman he’d met at the bar coming back. He was ready for her. But that he wasn’t prepared for me. Me, Beth. Me. Not Hadley. Me.”

  “Jesus, Lo,” she murmured.

  “And it wasn’t a one-time thing. He wanted to come over tonight. But then his brother showed up, so now, I don’t know when I’ll see him again. But today, he kept touching me and holding me and…I felt safe with him. A man who looked just like Malcom Lowe sat across from me, but I was with Caven, so I was safe. Do you have any idea how long it’s been since I truly felt safe in my own skin?”

  She closed her eyes and groaned. “You’re making this really hard for me to be Attorney Beth. If he was any other guy, I’d be ecstatic for you. I’ve always wanted you to be happy. But he’s Caven.”

  I knotted my hands in my lap. “You want to hear something crazy?”

  “Too late for that. But sure, hit me with something new.”

  “I think he knows it’s me. Deep down. He doesn’t realize it. But when he looks at me…” I paused. “He sees Willow, Beth. I know he does. And he feels me, that connection between us that can’t be broken. He’s just confused because he thinks my name is Hadley.”

  She collapsed beside me on the couch, linking her arm through mine and dropping her head against the cushion to stare up at the ceiling. “So, what if you tell him the truth?”

  “I’m sorry, what?”

  She turned her head without lifting it. “Tell him the truth.”

  “Are you insane?”

  “Possibly. I’m sitting here, talking to my dead best friend about her daughter who is actually her niece, and listening to her wax poetic about a boy she’s been in love with since she was eight years old but he has no idea that he saved her life but she somehow thinks he knows it’s her and that’s why he came over here and took her virginity. So yeah. I really might be insane.”

  “Stop saying he took my virginity!” I snapped before groaning. “And there is no way I can tell him the truth now. It’s too late. I’m Hadley now. There’s no going back.”

  “Then stop sleeping with him. If you’re Hadley, stop making this about Willow. Hadley didn’t want him. Hadley didn’t love him. Hadley used him to steal his computer and make her sister hurt.”

  The hollow ache in my chest intensified. She spoke the truth. Hadley had never cared about Caven. Then again, after the shooting, Hadley hadn’t cared about anyone—myself included.

  “This hurts,” I croaked. “God, why does this hurt?”

  “Because love is an impossible game. Especially when only one person knows the rules. We can fight for visitation in court. And we will. One hundred percent to the bitter end. I won’t lose her for you. Don’t forget how much I loved Hadley too. I’m just as much Rosalee’s aunt as you are. But the waters are getting murky now. Clear them up, or we’re all going to drown.”

  “I would drown for them. To have her. And him. I’d drown for that.”

  “It’s not going to work that way though. Hadley wouldn’t have—”

  “She wouldn’t have come back.” I scrubbed my hands over my face. “But I did. And it’s killing me because every part of me that’s left wants him and that little girl.”

  “But that’s exactly the problem. What if you can’t have them both?”

  I turned and looked her in the eye, emotion thick in my throat. “But what if I can?”

  She gave my side a pointed squeeze. “But what if he sees that scar?”

  CAVEN

  My brother was an asshole. And he was the worst kind of asshole. The kind that was only an asshole because he was worried about his little brother, so it was almost impossible to really hate him for being an asshole even though he absolutely deserved it.

  He’d admitted to cornering Hadley after she’d left. Apparently, they’d exchanged words about her intentions, and I miraculously managed not to put my fist in his mouth as I listened to him talk about it. It was one thing to tell me that he thought she was up to no good. But he knew he’d scared her earlier in the day because he looked like Malcom. Therefore, he knew good and damn well it had not been the right time to interrogate her.

  Yet he had. And it pissed me off to no end because it was one more thing I could add to my conscience to feel guilty about. I’d put her in that situation by not rescheduling her damn party. But Rosalee was excited to see her.

  And, truth be told, so was I.

  By the time dinner time rolled around, I wasn’t hungry. I was, on the other hand, about to peel out of my skin if I didn’t get away from Trent.

  There was only one place I wanted to be.

  Me: How ya feeling after today? I’m really sorry about Trent by the way.

  Hadley: It’s okay. I’m good. I took the night off work and poured a glass of wine.

  Me: So you aren’t busy right now then?

  Hadley: I wouldn’t go that far. There is a spot on my ceiling that I’m currently staring at, debating if it’s chipped paint that was there when I bought the house or if it’s a dead bug.

  Me: Oh wow, sorry to interrupt that riveting experience for you, but I have some exciting news.

  Hadley: What?

  Me: There’s a pizza place forty-five minutes across town called The Bistro. It’s Trent’s favorite, but they won’t deliver to my house.

  Hadley: That’s unfortunate.

  Me: Yep. It’s going to take me an hour and a half to get there and back and that’s assuming I don’t hit any traffic. Realistically more like two hours. But you know what I just discovered?

  Hadley: That there are at least thirty pizza places closer to your house that will deliver?

  Me: Nope. The Bistro delivers to YOUR house. Open the door. I’ve got nearly two hours to kill before I have to be home.

  Her porch light almost immediately came on followed by the click of the deadbolt.

  It cracked open an inch and a single gorgeous—and slightly creepy—green eye peeked out. “What are you doing here?”

  I grinned, leaning to the side to see what she was wearing. I hoped like hell it was that nearly see-through tank top again. “Waiting for my pizza.”

  Her lips hitched as she pulled the door open and bingo! Different tank top, but it was comprised of even less material than the first, showing not only her hard nipples but also a delicious swell of cleavage.

  I shouldn’t have come.

  But then again, I shouldn’t have was quickly becoming my life’s motto with Hadley. I was past the point of caring.

  Tracing my gaze down her body, I gave the door a gentle shove and she allowed it to swing all the way open. Damn. Ugly teal pajama pants. Meh. You win some, you lose some.

  I hadn’t been able to stop thinking about her since she’d pulled out of my driveway.

  The day had been filled with a myriad of emotions, each one striking me at the bone.

  The fear on her face.

  The tears in her eyes.

  The smile on her mouth as she’d opened Rosalee’s present.

  The kisses she’d blown to my giggling girl as she’d backed out of my driveway.

  I rested my hand on the curve of her hip and dipped to kiss her.

  Weaving to the side, she dod
ged me. “You had your pizza delivered to my place?”

  “Don’t worry. I got you a stuffed-crust veggie lovers for your troubles.” I aimed for her mouth again, murmuring, “But if that is not enough, I have come prepared to offer you the max amount of orgasms you can experience in two hours.”

  That time, she couldn’t escape me. My lips sealed over hers, and as if I’d found the hidden button, her arms came up, wrapping around my neck.

  She moaned, backing us both into her house. While our tongues danced, I kicked the door shut and blindly fumbled with the lock. After blindly locking the door, I focused my attention on her round ass.

  “Caven, wait.”

  I opened my eyes and stilled my roaming hands, mumbling against her lips. “For what?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Okay, you think about it for a while, and if you come up with an answer, you let me know.” Smiling, I kissed her again.

  But it wasn’t returned.

  I leaned away to get a better read on her face. Body language said she was all in—but her eyes. Fuck. Her eyes told me she was freaked the hell out.

  I immediately took a step away. Just enough distance to give her space without having to release her. “Hey, what’s going on? Talk to me.”

  She shifted in closer, plastering her front to mine while saying, “I don’t think this is a good idea anymore.”

  Well, hello there, mixed signals.

  “What’s not?”

  “Me and you.”

  “What about us?” I wasn’t a total dumbass. I knew what she was trying to say, but I wanted her to explain it because it had sure as hell felt like she’d thought it was a fan-fucking-tastic idea the night before.

  She put her chin on my pec and stared up at me through her lashes—all innocent and gorgeous. “You’re Rosalee’s dad.”

  “I am. And always will be her dad. But unless she snuck into my pocket on my way out of the house, she’s not here right now.”

  She. Got. Closer. Her thigh wedged between my legs and her hip pressed against my cock, straining against my zipper. “What if this blows up?”

  “Oh, it’s going to blow up. Disaster in the making, remember?” I palmed her ass again, rocking her against me. She’d said to wait, but if she could touch me, I assumed it worked the other way around. “I thought we decided what happens when I’m here doesn’t involve her.”