“Hold him,” I mutter to my brothers. The look of fear and surprise on my father’s face is gratifying.
“What?” Lucas replies.
“I said hold him,” I bark at my younger brother.
Caleb moves first, snatching our father by the arm and holding him in place. Then Lucas follows his lead.
“Boys, stop it!” Mom shrieks.
“How does that feel?” I ask him, my voice low. Sirens blare in the distance and I know I’m running out of time. I want him to be here when I expose him. I want him to watch as I ruin his life with his own lies.
“Son, don’t do this,” he pleads, and I’m not sure if he means punch him or tell them everything. But as his terror-filled eyes glance toward the red and blue flashing lights in the distance, relief washes over me. He’s about to pay for what he’s done.
“I found out everything he’s told us is a lie,” I announce to my family. “He holds the deed to the very sex club he’s been claiming to take down since we were kids. I caught him there.”
“What?” Lucas mumbles, staring at the old man fighting against his hold.
“He’s been cheating on Mom. He broke my nose when I found him.”
My mother cries louder behind me.
“This is who he really is. A fraud.”
Surrendering, he stops struggling, and he stares at me with remorse. My brothers loosen their hold of him, but he doesn’t run. A moment later, the police are there, and when they ask for the man responsible for the attack tonight, each member of my family points to him.
I thought it would feel better seeing my father taken away in cuffs. I wanted the satisfaction of knowing that he was finally paying the price for his sins, but not like this.
Not at Sage’s expense.
As the police haul him away, the vineyard is quiet. I turn toward my mother to find Caleb and Lucas already by her side, consoling her as she cries into her hands.
I feel so lost. I know I should get in my car as fast as I can and rush over to the hospital to see Sage, but at the same time, something is stopping me. Why would I go? To inject myself even further into her life, so she can get hurt again? Haven’t I caused her enough pain?
I’ve never felt more worthless in my entire life.
Walking over to my mother, I touch her shoulder. “I’m so sorry about your ceremony, Mom.”
“I don’t give a shit about the ceremony,” she snaps, lifting her head. “That poor girl.” On the last word, her voice shakes and she cries some more. “She must have been so scared.”
My throat tightens, stinging with emotion as I listen to my mother cry for the woman I love.
“This is all my fault,” I say, feeling the weight of my family’s eyes on my face as I begin what I know is about to be the impossible confession.
“Oh, Adam,” she murmurs, her fingers hovering over her lips.
“The entire charade was for him. The sex tapes. Showing up with Sage. I just wanted to ruin his reputation, but I never wanted anyone to get hurt. And I never expected to fall in love.”
My mother lifts her head in surprise. “You used her?”
That guts me. How can I explain? I feel my image deteriorating in my mother’s eyes, and it no longer matters what anyone thinks about me when I realize that my own mom thinks I’m an asshole.
“Yes,” I mutter, a tear slipping down my cheek. I quickly wipe it away. I don’t feel worthy of these tears at the moment.
“Then nothing with her was real? Adam, how could you do this?”
“Everything with her was real,” I whisper, barely able to get the words out. The heavy truth in them feels like blades, cutting me as I speak them. “I love her more than anything.”
“Then what are you doing here? Who gives a shit about your father or the club or his lies?”
I don’t move, staring at her and forcing myself to swallow.
“I don’t deserve her.”
My mother steps toward me. Then she places her hands on my face and I stare into her tear-soaked eyes, makeup running down her cheeks. “You’re not like him. You saved that girl’s life. You’re not the kind of man to leave a hurting woman alone in the hospital. I saw the way you wanted to hurt him. I saw how much you struggled with that anger, but you didn’t, Adam. You’re a good man, and even good men make mistakes. The important thing is that you make it right when given the chance.”
Another tear slips out as I let her words settle over me.
“Thank you,” I mumble. Then my mother’s arms wrap around my neck, pulling me into a tight hug.
Suddenly all I can think about is Sage alone in the hospital.
Scared, lonely, waiting for me. And a new sense of urgency washes over me.
The nurse leads me down the hall of the hospital, stopping at the last room on the right. As she opens the door, and I see Sage sitting on the bed, thick gauze wrapped around her neck, I brush past the nurse and run to her side. Sage’s face contorts in a sob when she sees me, latching her arms around my neck when I reach her.
“I’m so sorry,” I whisper into her ear. Brushing my fingers through her hair, I breathe in the relief that she’s okay. And I try not to think too long about how close we got to what could have happened.
They’d be hauling us both off in cuffs if she didn’t make it
—if he had killed her like he was so clearly trying to do.
“I’m sorry it took me so long to get here,” I say, sitting on the side of the bed to hold her close. “And I’m so sorry he hurt you.”
When she doesn’t respond, I pull away and stare into her eyes. She points to her throat and mouths, I can’t speak.
“Ever?” I reply in a panic.
She smiles and shakes her head. Then she points to the pad of paper and pen on the table next to the bed. She’s clearly been using this to communicate with her nurses because it’s already scribbled with the words thirsty and Adam Goode.
She wanted me.
My fingers stroke her arm as she rips the top paper, tossing it to the side before writing something on the fresh one underneath.
It hurts too much when I try to speak. No surgery though.
She forces a tight smile and holds up her thumb at the good news.
I’m both relieved and sick with guilt. My father did this to her. He nearly killed her, but it’s so hard to feel blessed when I know it’s my fault this happened in the first place.
“I hate this,” I mutter, brushing her hair from her face.
Seeing her in this hospital bed, in pain. It kills me. “I’m so sorry, Peaches.”
Her brows furrow inward. “You saved me,” she mouths, her voice nothing but air.
“If it wasn’t for me, you wouldn’t have been there in the first place.”
Shaking her head, she looks dissatisfied with that argument. “Stop,” she whispers, holding her hand out. Then she scribbles on the pad again, and my heart breaks at the words she shows me.
You were there.
Then she scribbles below them.
I love you.
When she glances back up at me, her eyes are moist with tears, so I pull her mouth to mine for a tender kiss, careful not to hurt her. Shifting over on the bed, she pats the space next to her for me to sit.
I stretch out in the empty space and pull her into my arms, kissing the top of her head and stroking her arm with affection.