Her Shadows His Secrets Read online

  A decent man would say that is cruel, but I’m not a decent man. I’m a devil among saints. There is a side of me that no one sees, not even the women who submit to me. On their knees, peering up at me, praying I show them who I really am. Little do they know, I already have. I’m a monster, and no one would ever know.

  Looking at my naked form, even I notice I’m more defined than I usually am. I’ve always been fit, but the new dips, muscles, and cuts along my skin are proof of this pent-up need. I’ve been working out whenever I get the chance, using it as a way to get my… aggression out. My eyes trail the length of my tense body, ending at my hard cock.

  “Fuck.” I need to release some of this frustration or this dinner with my sister and parents is going to be murderous. Closing my eyes, I wrap my fist tightly around my stiff shaft, the head wet with pre-cum. I smear the warm liquid around the head and down the length, my veins throbbing with my pulse.

  I close my eyes and begin stroking myself. Slow at first. So fucking slow. Doing this on purpose, knowing the buildup will make the climax that much more intense and satiate me enough to get me through.

  “Oh yeah,” I moan, the sound filling the bathroom. I try to imagine a woman here with me, but it’s no use. I just need a release; no time to try to play a highlight reel of all the faceless women I’ve fucked. I pick up speed, chasing the oblivion I know can never truly be reached. It’s a temporary fix for a man like me. Never fully satisfied. Never able to settle.

  “Fuck yeah,” I growl, the sound feral.

  Get the job done.

  Go back to New York.

  And fuck the first willing woman you see, I tell myself, the climax building. Just the knowledge that I’ll be able to go home and find a plaything is all I need to shoot violent streams of cum onto the bathroom counter and into the sink.

  I keep my eyes on the mirror as I come down from the top of my pleasure. The blackness in my eyes begins to fade as the brown in them returns.

  The monster is silenced…for now.

  “You ready to be bombarded with a million and one questions?” my sister asks two steps ahead of me as we approach my parents’ front door.

  “Yes,” I respond.

  “What’s with the dark and broody? You okay?” Brenda eyes me inquisitively.

  Snapping out of it, I open the door and nod for her to go in. “Nothing. Work was busy today. I’m distracted.”

  She chuckles. “Who knew IT could be so tiring? You would think you were doing illegal stuff.”

  Furrowing my brows, I laugh at her as I shut the door and remove my jacket. “What?”

  “You know, like hacking systems to find bad guys. That would be stressful. Helping companies get their systems up and running doesn’t seem like it would be this taxing, I guess.” She shrugs.

  “Then it’s a good thing you aren’t in IT. You wouldn’t be able to keep up.” I tilt my head, watching her roll her eyes.

  “Smartass.” She turns and heads to the kitchen.

  Rolling up the sleeves of my flannel, I follow her, a cocky grin on my face. I love when she can’t think of a better comeback. The only thing I miss about this town is seeing my sister.

  I don’t like people. I have some male friends back in New York, but for the most part, I don’t like many. They seem boring, lacking anything to add to my life. Oh, I know it sounds cruel, but once again, I never claimed to be a nice man, a gentleman. Self-serving isn’t a negative term to me. Brenda—she is the only one who doesn’t make me want to plug my bleeding ears because of boring conversation. Maybe it’s because she and I are cut from the same cloth and tend to act like it. She can be just as fierce and controlling, not as deeply rooted as me, but she is very much a hardheaded, strong-willed person, just like her brother.

  “Theo! Baby!” my mother screeches.

  I exhale, not ready for a night of her giddy behavior. I love my mother, don’t get me wrong, but she is terrible at knowing when to knock it down a few pegs, to stop overcompensating with volume and cheer, when really something in her life is in shambles. Like her marriage.

  Knowing my parents, they are going to act as if everything is fine. That’s where Brenda and I differ, why she asked me not to say anything. She can separate her feelings at times, treat different people with more care than others. Me, I straight-shoot everyone. Maybe Brenda doesn’t want to confront my parents and call them on their bullshit, but me? I won’t hesitate.

  I don’t want to be a father and never will be, but I will say it doesn’t take a genius to know that lying and putting up a terribly hidden façade that your marriage is great so your children don’t suffer is far more damaging than just divorcing. They have to know that, right?

  Clearly not.

  “Mom. Hello.” I kiss her cheek and stand tall again before moving to my dad and giving him a sideways hug. That’s enough affection for the night.

  “Son. Good to have you home. We didn’t think you would make time to come spend with us.” Ah, there it is. Maybe my father has learned. Or maybe he has hidden this part of himself all these years and has reached the peak of not giving a fuck. He wouldn’t normally call anyone out on things like that. I can’t say I’m mad. I’d rather have honesty than whatever it is my mother is trying to pull tonight.

  “Rob,” my mother scorns.

  “What? He’s not a child, Kerrin. We don’t have to baby them anymore.”

  Cracks. There are the cracks. Clearly, my father is bending and breaking faster than my mother is.

  “Mom, Dad, can we not? Not tonight,” Brenda somberly begs next to me. Mom releases a deep breath, and my father follows suit.

  “You’re right. Kids, let’s eat. We need to talk about some things with you.”

  “Oh no,” Brenda responds, and turning my head to her, I see her eyes are watering. Fuck. As if today wasn’t already bad enough. Now, I have to watch my baby sister fall apart.

  “Cut the shit, Dad. What do you two want to say?” I don’t even blink or flinch when I ask this question. Instead, I take a seat at the table and rap my knuckles against the tablecloth-covered wood—a habit of mine, something I do when I’m trying to decipher something.

  “Don’t be so crass, Theo. We haven’t seen you in almost a year. The least you could do is act like you love this family,” my mother scolds like I’m a petulant child.

  Taking in a deep breath through my nose, I release it after a brief hold, collecting myself and remembering my control. I can’t snap, not with Brenda in the room. She’s already tearing at the seams.

  “I do love this family. Don’t play such a childish card, Mom. But Brenda and I don’t need to be fed, told we are loved, and that it has nothing to do with us. We’re grown, so sit and tell us what I’m sure we already know.” I cut the thick air with my even, low timbre.

  My mother sighs, and my father shakes his head, using his hand to massage the back of his neck, an attempt at relieving the tension.

  “Okay, you’re right. Your father and I have to tell you kids something, and we want you to know—”

  “Mother,” I cut her off. Did she not hear a word I just said? My parents have always had a predictable marriage. Robotic, if you will. I’m not shocked the cracks are showing and the dam is breaking.

  “Fine. Your father and I are separating.” She finally lays it out.

  “No, can’t we help you two work this out?” Brenda cries.

  I place my hands in my lap, my fingers laced as I let my sister work out and come to terms with this. I’ll intervene when needed.

  My parents and I have never been super close. There wasn’t any one thing that happened; I just grew up with a different outlook on life, and it showed. I love my parents, make no mistake, but affection, love, adoration—those left me a long time ago. It stayed here when I went to New York. I would be the first person at their aid, but that doesn’t mean I’m the first to break bread any chance we get. Relationships in all forms have never been my forte—except in the sexual nature.

  “No, sweetie. We want to attempt to remain friends. We tried for a long time. Therapy and more. It just isn’t our time.” My mother leans over and places her hand atop Brenda’s, and my father rounds the table to comfort her as well. Standing beside her, he stoops and kisses the top of her head.

  “We know this is hard to see, but marriages don’t always work.”

  I fight the urge to voice out loud that prolonged monogamy never works. But I bite my tongue. This is for Brenda to process. I’m just here to make sure they don’t overstep and push her too far. Brenda is passionate. So are my parents. And they all will fight for dominance. I guess all of us got that trait. If things got too impassioned, it could lead to a world war.

  “But what does that mean? Are you both going to stay in this house? This town?” She wipes at her tears. The sight of her hurting has my jaw ticking. I don’t like watching her break like this.

  “Yes, we will be staying here in this town, but your father is getting his own place in the next couple of months. We are so sorry, sweetie.”

  “I don’t even know what to say.” My sister sniffles.

  “We know. It will take some time to process this, but we are here to help in any way. We love you both,” my father adds.

  “Theo?” Brenda calls out to me, seeming to beg for me to prove this is all a bad dream.

  “I’m sorry you two couldn’t make it work. Brenda, if Mom and Dad aren’t happy, we can’t and shouldn’t force that on them. It will be okay. You will be fine,” I reassure her.

  Dropping her head, she nods at her lap. “Yeah, I know you’re right. I just don’t want to stop our dinners and these moments where we can come together and unwind. Be an actual family.”

  “We can still and should still do that.”
My father glances back and forth between the three of us. I nod, agreeing to it, because I will most likely be gone before we even have another one of these… lovely and lively dinners. The job will be completed, and then I will go back home. It’s Brenda I worry about most. But as long as she has me, she won’t need to worry.

  The only person I have a soft spot for is her. I’d never admit that to her, because her ego is already big enough when it comes to who is the superior sibling, but it’s true. I have a space open in my closed-off heart that is reserved just for her.

  The night carried on peacefully, no tables being flipped, no having to play referee, so all in all, it was a nice dinner, and even I enjoyed catching up with my family. I ended up not needing to take my parents to separate rooms to talk, which worked in their favor. I’m too pent up. Too enthralled with the stresses of my job, and being back here and celibate, that I could detonate at any moment. This dinner played out in the best way it could for not just me but for my family.

  CHAPTER FIVE

  HANNA

  ONE WEEK PRIOR

  “You grandfather helped build half this town.” Drawing my gaze away from the storefronts and to Jack behind the wheel, I smile sweetly.

  “Really? Is that what he did? Construction?”

  “Oh yeah, and many other things. He was in construction, investments… hell, he was a man of many trades. That’s why he is so well known here.”

  “It’s a small town. Doesn’t everyone know everyone?” I question.

  “True. I guess it’s more like, that’s why he was so well loved. He was always the first in line to help when anyone needed anything. Very selfless.”

  I don’t respond to that. I can’t help but feel a tinge of resentment. Clearly, he knew of me. How come he was so willing to help and be the town’s shining star to everybody but his own flesh and blood?

  He had to have known about my parents. He had to know they left me behind and that I grew up in the foster care system, occasionally staying with families until they’d have kids of their own and didn’t want me anymore.

  “That’s the town grocer, not too far from your house. Walking distance. However, I know the owner of the car dealership on the other side of town if you’re wanting a new vehicle.”

  “Thanks. It looks like my grandfather has a couple of cars in the paperwork. But I’m not sure yet. Still trying to process everything. I will let you know what I decide to do.”

  “No worries. Most places here are within walking distance, so you should be good for your basic needs,” he informs me.

  “Anything else I need to know about Cherry Hill?” I question as we pass the final building and drive past beautiful open fields with different crops—flowers, cotton, and so much more. I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. Truly. Most of the time, all I see is people, high-rise buildings, and trash thrown all over the ground.

  “Not much. Everyone here is friendly and willing to help with whatever it is you need. I will leave my cell number with you, and you can call me whenever.” He pauses. “JD was one of my dearest friends. I know he would want you to feel as safe and comfortable as possible. You can count on me. Know that you at least have one friend here so far.”

  He gives me such a sweet smile I almost feel overwhelmed by it, because today is just a lot. I can’t really say much or offer any means of appreciation for his hospitality, because I really just need a second to breathe. “Sure. Thank you.”

  Just like he stated, the place isn’t too far from the city limits. “We’re here,” he says as we pull up to what I can only describe as a beautiful masterpiece. This place is like one you see in the movies, a two-story home painted white with black shutters and accents, and the best part is the wraparound porch.

  “It’s perfect. Truly perfect.” I didn’t mean to say that out loud.

  “He built it just a couple of years back. It’s the gem of Cherry Hill.”

  “You don’t say. This is too much. Are you sure there isn’t someone else he would want to leave this to?”

  He laughs. “No, ma’am. You are the sole person named in his entire will. Welcome home.”

  “I—I can’t accept this. It’s too much,” I repeat the second we’re out of the car.

  “You are welcome to sell it to someone, but other than that, it’s yours. Come, I’ll help you get inside.”

  I follow slowly, unable to take my eyes off of everything. The home is truly a work of art; I can’t believe this is happening. I would pinch myself, but I don’t want Jack to think I’ve gone mental. Though, could he blame me?

  “Here are the keys. There is a shed just a few feet from the back steps that has yard tools and equipment in there if you need anything. And here, take my card.” Pulling out his wallet, he pulls out his business card and hands it to me.

  “Thanks, I’m sure I will use this. I’m just a little overwhelmed today. Thank you for everything, Jack.”

  “You are more than welcome. We will talk soon, I’m sure, but have a good rest of your day.” With that, he’s off, and I stay standing in the middle of the entryway, the sound of the door closing deafening.

  “This is your new life, Hanna,” I whisper to myself. “Where do we start?”

  I finally set into motion, walking into the first room on the left, which is a sitting room. The furniture is homey, surprisingly modern and not outdated. I don’t know what I was expecting—maybe floral couches with plastic on them? There’s some art hanging above the fireplace, the shiplap wall and black brick fireplace contrasting perfectly. My grandfather must have paid someone to decorate. This looks like it was done by professionals who know styles and art.

  There is an open passage that leads to the kitchen, and I head there next. This is even more stunning than the front room. The cabinets are painted white with glass doors so you can see everything inside. And everything in them is organized and monochromatic, leaving it to look clean yet effortless. The countertops are a gray, white, and black marble, and the backsplash is glossy white tile.

  The kitchen island is shiplap and marble, with a vintage, western-style canned light hanging above it. There is a window above the sink, and stepping up to it, I peer out into the wide-open green land. The hills are rolling in the distance, and I’m stuck in place, looking at the beauty.

  Peace.

  This is what that must feel like. True and utter peace.

  Willing myself to step away to explore some more, I still hold onto that feeling that peering out the window gave me. Hoping it will bring me some comfort and understanding during all this. Stepping back into the hall, I head back toward the front door. There is a living room to the right and stairs. I look into the living room, seeing a TV and a sectional couch with a coffee table. There is a bay window that looks out to the front of the house.

  The upstairs is next. The stairs are a dark wood on top and accented with black on the front panels, and the rails are white. Details—JD must have been anal retentive, very particular, and detailed. I’m not that way. Sure, I’m no slob, but I’m in no way this attached to perfectionism. The hallway at the top of the stairs is lined with windows; it’s unique. I would have never thought to do something like that.

  Detailed and talented. I’m learning something new about the man who was my grandfather. It’s feels weird saying that, but I guess I can’t deny it or run from it now. I’m in the middle of the beautiful farmhouse home he left for me with millions of dollars now in my name. Each bedroom is simple. Beds, dressers, closets, the typical, but the master bedroom, this is anything but typical. The entire right wall, facing the back of the house, is floor-to-ceiling windows. And I do mean the entire wall, in height and width.

  What on God’s green earth is this? It is beautiful. I would never have thought to do something like that, but I’m thankful he did. The peace I felt looking through that much smaller kitchen window returns, and I realize in this moment that I will be sleeping here, and that will be my view from sunup to sundown.

  I step into the bathroom, which is all white—white and silver marble countertops, white vanity, a separate all-glass shower, and a large jacuzzi tub with a window above it.