Bryce backed away. “I never expected anything like this from you. We had the kind of friendship that stories are written about. We could go for years without seeing each other and then get together, and it was like no time had passed. We were up to our old antics, finishing each other’s sentences, laughing at each other’s stupid-ass jokes. That’s the kind of friend I thought you were, Joe.” He shook his head. “I can’t believe I was so wrong.” He raised his fist.

I stalked toward him. “You want to hit me? Think that’ll make you feel better? Go for it. Then I’ll hit you back. And neither one of us will feel better. You think I like what your father has done? You think I like having to tell you? I’ve been dreading this since I figured it out. I haven’t even told Talon yet because I thought I owed you the courtesy of letting you know first.”

Bryce dropped his fist, his whole body tense. “I can’t fucking believe it. You of all people.”

“Look, if you believe in our friendship—”

“Friendship? We no longer have a friendship.” Bryce raised his fist again, shaking, and then lowered it. “You’re not worth it, Steel. Get the fuck out of my house.”

He turned and walked inside.

I sighed. The conversation had gone about how I had expected. I sat back down, resting my elbows on the table, my forehead in my hands. Next, I had to see Melanie. I had put off being honest with her for too long as well. I stood and walked around to the front of the house to my car.

And then my goddamned phone buzzed.

I recognized the number. At least it wasn’t my stalker this time.

“Hey, Mills,” I said into the phone.

“Got some good news for you,” Trevor Mills said. “We’ve located your mayor.”

Chapter Thirty–Eight

Melanie

The young man turned and walked away quickly.

“What is it, Doc?” Talon asked.

“I have no idea.” I tore open the envelope.

And my heart sank.

Gina’s parents were suing me for malpractice.

How dare they? They’d lied to their daughter, and now it wasn’t even clear if she’d indeed committed suicide. I nearly lost my footing.

Talon caught me, taking the paper from my hands. He helped me into the living room and onto Jonah’s brocade sofa.

He scanned the paper. “What the fuck? Haven’t they already filed some sort of complaint?”

“They filed a complaint with the medical board. They can go after my license that way. This is a civil lawsuit for malpractice. Now they want money.”

“Well, we’ve got that. Joe and I will pay them off to go away.”

I had no doubt he meant every word he said, but I couldn’t take his money. I ran my fingers over my hair. Couldn’t I catch a damned break?

Not in this lifetime, apparently.

“You can’t fix everything with your money, Talon.”

“The hell I can’t.”

“Really? You think you can? You couldn’t fix yourself, could you?”

I regretted the words as soon as they left my mouth. I was his therapist, his safe place. I shouldn’t have said that, no matter how true it was.

“I’m sorry.” I shook my head. “I shouldn’t have been so harsh. But the words are true. You couldn’t fix yourself solely with your money, and you can’t fix this situation either. You can’t bring Gina back to life.”

He sat down next to me and looked me in the eye. “I know I can’t. But you can’t either. So why are they suing you?”

I opened my mouth, but he held out his hand.

“I’ll tell you why. They’re suing you for money. And we Steels have plenty of that.”

“I don’t need your money. I have malpractice insurance.”

“I’m pretty sure we can pay more than your policy limits.”

“I’m sure you can. But I’ve paid those premiums for years. Might as well put the policy to good use.”

My phone rang from the kitchen where I’d left it so I wouldn’t be disturbed during my session with Talon. “Excuse me,” I said to Talon.

I walked to the kitchen, but was too late to get the phone call. It was from the insurance agent taking care of my claim on the loft. I didn’t have the strength to deal with him just now. I made a note to call him back tomorrow.

Then I noticed a text from Jonah. It had come in a couple hours ago.

Visit with Larry amounted to nothing. I’m going to see Bryce. I’m going to tell him. I love you.

Dear God… I could only hope Bryce Simpson could see his father for who he truly was. Otherwise, Jonah would be home soon, and he wouldn’t be in a good mood. I quickly texted him back.

Good luck. I love you.

 

Jonah came home looking somber. I went to him immediately and pressed my lips to his. “How did it go?” Although I was pretty sure I knew the answer.

He shook his head. “About how I expected. The man is devoted to his dad, who, apparently, was a really great dad, despite his other faults.”

“I’d hardly call those other things ‘faults,’” I said. “Sit down. I’ll fix you a martini.”

Jonah raked his fingers through his hair. “I can’t, Melanie. I can’t sit down and pretend like everything is all right with you.”

“What do you mean? Everything is fine with me.”

He paced back and forth across the kitchen floor. “You don’t understand. There’s something I need to tell you too, only I’ve been too much of a coward to do it.”

Me? What on earth could he have to tell me? He had given me a place to live when I couldn’t bear to walk into my loft again. He’d hired private investigators to help me figure out the situation with Gina while he was still working on figuring out his own family’s issues. I opened my mouth to say as much, but he gestured for me to stay quiet.

“I love you,” he said. “God, Melanie, I love you so much.”

I touched his cheek. “I love you too. More than anything. So whatever this is, we will get through it together.”

“No, not this. I failed you.” His fist came down on the table. Hard. “I fail everyone, Melanie. Don’t get close to me, or I’ll fail you. My brother, my best friend, and now you.”