Hold You Close Read online

  My fucking head is going to explode. All they do is fight. How the hell did Sabrina not blow her eardrums out? Listening to these two is giving me a migraine. Either I’ve blocked out this part of my childhood or Sabrina and I got along better.

  It’s been an hour since my parents left. They ate pizza with us, kissed the kids, smiled at me, and that was it. Tomorrow they head back to Florida. My father has some kind of meeting and since I told them I didn’t need their help, they’re going. I’m a goddamn fool.

  I’m not going to survive one night from the looks of it.

  My perfect house is a mess. Shit all over the place from the kids tossing their crap. This isn’t even half of their stuff, either. This was just a bag each of clothes and their must-haves. The rest comes with the movers.

  Mom planned to go through the house, sell or get rid of anything we didn’t need, but since I assured her she didn’t have to stick around because I’m a man and could handle it, I’m fucked.

  “You’re so stupid!”

  “And you’re a bitch!” Chris yells.

  That’s it.

  “Guys, guys!” I walk into what was once my very quiet family room and stand in front of the television. “You.” I point to Chris. “Don’t you ever call her a bitch or you won’t like what happens.” Then I turn to Morgan. “And you, don’t call him stupid.”

  “Sorry, Uncle Ian,” Chris says.

  “Yeah,” Morgan sighs. “Sorry.”

  Now I feel like an asshole. I’ve never wanted to be a disciplinarian, but shit, I have to be now. “There are more than ten places to watch a movie in this house. Why don’t you go downstairs, and you go up to your room, and I’ll take back this one?”

  “I don’t like being upstairs alone,” Morgan admits.

  “And you have a bigger screen up here,” Chris says with a shrug.

  Typical man. “No shit, that’s why I watch the games in here.” I smirk and point for them to vacate. “Go. Figure it out.”

  They get to their feet, both grumbling under their breath, and I stand tall as they leave the room.

  There. I did it. I parented or adulted or some shit. Look at me being all grown up and whatnot. My eyes dart out to the back, to where London would be.

  Take that! I can do this without your damn help! I mentally yell at her, like the mature adult I am while pointing my finger and puffing out my chest.

  “Uncle Ian,” Morgan says as I’m posturing at the window, thankful that London definitely can’t see in.

  I spin around. “What’s up? I thought you went upstairs.”

  “What are you doing?” she asks, trying to hold back her laugh.

  “I’m . . . looking out the window.”

  “Right. Is Aunt London out on the deck?”

  “I don’t know.”

  She peers around me. “Can’t you see?”

  I glare at who was once my favorite niece. “I wasn’t looking for her.”

  “Uh huh.” Morgan snorts. “Do you like her or something?”

  What is with the twenty questions? I cross my arms over my chest. “Do you like rabid animals?”

  She tilts her head. “Umm, no. Does anyone?”

  “Then there’s your answer. I like to think of her as a raccoon you need to stay ten feet away from because she’ll bite you in the ass.”

  “Whatever,” Morgan says as she rolls her eyes. “Look, Ruby won’t come out of her room.”

  “Still?” I ask.

  Of all the people in the world the kid will talk to, why does it have to be London?

  “I’ll go try,” I say. I was just the big man of the house a few minutes ago, and I’m going to do it again. I own today, and these kids need to see who is boss.

  This guy.

  I march upstairs to the guest room where I put Ruby.

  “Ruby.” I call her name. When she doesn’t come to the door, I open it. She sits up on the bed, and her big blue eyes meet mine. “Do you want to eat?” I ask.

  She shakes her head.

  “Are you thirsty?” I go for another question.

  Again with the head shake.

  “Do you want to watch a movie?” I ask, praying it’s anything but that damn purple dinosaur. I swear, Morgan made me sit through hours of that when she was a kid, and I never wished for a meteor to hit Earth more than I did at that time. I would’ve done anything to put myself out of my misery, but she cried the second the DVD ended, until I started it again.

  Ruby nods.

  At least we’re getting somewhere now.

  “Okay, well, you have to tell me what you want to watch.”

  I decide this time I’m not giving her a yes or no question. Maybe I can get her to talk by not giving an option.

  Ruby hops out of bed, takes my hand, and leads me down to where all the movies are.

  “Ruby, you have to tell me,” I try again. “I need you to talk instead of show me.”

  Her lip starts to tremble and tears form.

  Fuck.

  “No, no, no, don’t cry. It’s okay.” I pat her shoulders. “Ruby, you don’t have to talk, just show Uncle Ian what you want.”

  I see it coming like a tidal wave. I can’t stop it. I can’t do anything to prepare for it because there isn’t time.

  The tears fall down her cheeks and a sobbing sound escapes this tiny person.

  Holy fucking hell, she has a set of pipes.

  The sound is a mix of a siren and some kind of animal in excruciating pain. I look to Morgan who stands there, shell-shocked. “Morgan! What do I do?” I yell to her.

  “I don’t know!” she replies.

  Helpful.

  I get down on my knees in front of my weeping little niece. “Ruby, baby, don’t cry. I’m right here.” I try to gather her in my arms, thinking I’ve seen parents do this—they offer comfort by embracing them.

  Another wail comes out as soon as I touch her, piercing the room. I wince and go for another tactic.

  “Okay.” I move away from her. “No touching, got it. If you want to cry, that’s fine. I get it. Crying is helpful, right?”

  Ruby’s tears slice through me. I don’t know what to do. I look up to the sky, wondering what my sister was thinking. I’m completely fucking lost here.

  I get to my feet, but as soon as I move away, she screams out again, and my black heart breaks. “I don’t know what to do here, sweetheart,” I admit to her. “Do you want me to hug you or go away? Do you want a cookie? Ice cream? Maybe a doll? We can go to the store!”

  “I don’t think you’re supposed to give her things.” Morgan shakes her head at me.

  “Do you have a better idea?”

  She rolls her eyes, and Ruby goes on and on.

  Morgan looks down at her nails and then back up to me. “I know someone who could help.”

  Five

  London

  Ugh! I hate that man.

  I hate him.

  I hate that I want to hate him more than I already do.

  I grab the bottle of pinot and pour another glass. Stupid asshole. Calling me lonely. Telling me I’m condescending and judgmental. Ha! I’m only those things because I see the truth about him and he doesn’t like it.

  God forbid I not be one of his little groupies who tell him what he wants to hear. I know what he is—a user.

  I wander over to the sliding door leading to my deck. “And good luck keeping those kids from me!” I yell at his house, lifting my middle finger in the air, hoping he can see through the glass. “Prick!”

  We’ll see what happens the first time he needs help. I’ll sit here in all my judgy-ness and tell him to figure it out his damn self.

  I hope his balls fall off.

  That would really teach him.

  Refusing to look in his direction one more second, I march into my living room and sink onto the couch. I lean my head back, allowing the almost-finished glass of wine to warm my extremities.

  I turn my head to the side, seeing the unopened letter from
Sabrina sticking out of my purse. She left six letters with her lawyer. One each for me, Chris, Morgan, and Ruby; one for her parents; and one for David’s parents. The only person without a letter was Ian. Which of course spurred another outburst from him.

  My heart begins to race and I instantly feel sick to my stomach. Can I really read it? Am I ever going to feel ready? Probably not. However, I miss her. I want to hear anything she has to say.

  Leaning over, I take it in my hand, loving the scripted letters of my name in her handwriting. I slide my finger under the seal, slowly opening the flap. The sound of the paper opening causes my chest to tighten. I’m not sure how I’ll get through this. I pull the letter out, decide to down my third glass of wine, tuck my feet under my butt, and read her last words to me.

  * * *

  London,

  My best friend. My soul sister. The girl who has been through it all with me and never stopped loving me. This letter is so hard to write, but I had to do it. I remember Dad telling me about how no one should ever wonder what you felt after you were gone, so here I am. I’ve had a few glasses of wine so I could actually get through this version of hell. I hope you’ve had some too!

  First, thank you. You’re the best friend every girl should have. You’ve never judged me for the stupid things I’ve done, you loved me when I didn’t listen to you, and you always had my back. We’ve been through so much, and I wouldn’t have wanted any other friend beside me. I love you with my whole heart.

  Second, you’re probably a little mad at me right now. Don’t be. Please understand we didn’t make this decision lightly regarding the kids. We went back and forth a hundred times, but he’s my brother, Lon. He’s their uncle, and I know without a shadow of a doubt that you’ll be there for them no matter what. I know that you’ll love them, make sure he doesn’t teach them bad habits, and you’ll give them the woman’s touch they’ll need.

  (Side note: this the most morbid shit I’ve ever had to do.)

  Okay, back to pouring my heart out and pouring another glass of wine.

  You and Ian may not get along, but please try. He’s going to be stubborn, but then again, so will you. Just dig your heels in on being there for them. Chris will get bad advice from him--you’ll need to make sure he doesn’t take it. Morgan will probably drive him crazy, you can allow that. Ruby will get away with anything because … have you seen her eyes? That girl already knows how to work the system.

  I’m hoping that this letter never makes it to you. I want to tell you in person what your friendship means to me. Just know that even if I’m gone, I’ll miss you so much.

  Lastly, I’m going to say this because I’m gone and you can’t kill me . . . forgive my damn brother already. Yes, he broke your heart, but if you didn’t still have feelings for him, you wouldn’t care so much.

  He cares too. I know he does.

  Love,

  Sabrina

  * * *

  Tears slide down my face and I use the back of my hand to clear them away. Clutching the letter to my chest, I know I’ll treasure this always, even if the ending was complete crazy talk.

  I close my eyes, letting my emotions settle around me, both thankful I got to read that and wishing I never had to. The doorbell rings, and my head flops to the side. Who the hell could be here now?

  The wine hits me when I stand, but I manage to get to the door without incident. When I open it, the door hits the rug, getting stuck, and I stumble backwards. Onto my ass. In front of the biggest ass I know.

  “Are you drunk?” Ian asks.

  I’m sure getting close to it.

  “No, thanks for asking. I was just … I’m fine.”

  I’m not telling him I just read the letter. The last thing I need is him asking me questions. If Sabrina wanted him to have one, she’d have written something to him. Plus, I’m not forgiving him anytime soon. He has to earn that.

  “Great,” he mumbles as he enters my house. “You’re freaking toasted. Here.” His hand is in front of me, but I don’t need his help.

  “God only knows where your hands have been,” I sneer. Instead of doing what any sane person would, I roll to my stomach and get onto my hands and knees. “I’d rather crawl.”

  “Nice panties.” Ian smirks.

  This is why Sabrina was wrong. He’s a total ass. I look at him from over my shoulder and glare. “I’m going commando.”

  “Hard to wear underwear with the stick up your ass, huh?”

  When I get to the stairs, I manage to get myself upright without needing his stupid help, and lean against the railing. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”

  He shakes his head and moves closer. “I need your help.”

  I laugh right in his face. “That took less time than I thought.”

  Ian runs his hand down his face and mutters under his breath. “Did you think it was easy to say that?”

  “Do you think I care?”

  “This isn’t about me or you. Ruby is screaming and you’re the only one she’ll talk to. I don’t know what to do. She’s hysterical and it’s been ten minutes of the three of us trying to calm her. I know you hate me, and believe me, I fucking hate you too.” He grits his teeth. “I’m asking you to help my niece—your niece.”

  As much as I hate to do anything for him, there’s no way I can say no. Ruby is the sweetest thing in the world. I close my eyes, pull in a shaky breath, and do my best to sober up.

  I look at Ian and see the stress in his face. “I’m not doing it for you.”

  He shrugs. “I didn’t think you would.”

  As long as we’re both clear.

  “Let me chug some coffee,” I say.

  He rolls his eyes but doesn’t refute me.

  After I’ve drunk a cup of strong coffee and eaten some bread, I walk out the door. It’s funny how quickly some things can sober you up. I remember being a little sloshed at a party, enjoying myself after graduation, and the minute Ian showed up with his slut girlfriend from college, my fun night was over.

  “You know, you’re a real buzz kill,” I say as we’re climbing down the stairs to the cut through our yards.

  “What?”

  “You always ruin my alcohol buzz,” I reply.

  He shakes his head and keeps moving.

  I can hear Ruby crying as soon as we get past my deck. “Did you try talking to her?” I ask.

  Ian stops walking suddenly and I plow into the back of him. He turns, grabbing my arm, and pulls me to his chest. The smell of his cologne, the feel of his skin on mine, causes my heart to race. I hate my weak body for being drawn to him, but my drunken mind can’t stop the thoughts of what it felt like to have his lips on mine.

  I’ve replayed that kiss a million times already, the way his hands scrunched my shirt in the back, how he was demanding with his tongue, and then there was his taste. Why does he have to be so fucking hot?

  “I’m not a fucking idiot. Of course I tried talking to her.”

  I shake my head, getting rid of the thoughts of him touching me, and put my armor back in place. “I had to ask.”

  “Be more careful where you walk,” he says, and then releases me.

  Of course he doesn’t think about me that way. I’m simple, ugly, plain, and a bitch in his world. He doesn’t see me as a woman, he never has.

  Traitorous body wanting a man who only cares for himself.

  It takes a few more seconds before we’re in the house, and Ruby is beside herself. The tears stream, her cries are loud, and she’s worked herself up pretty good. “Ruby, honey, come here.” I squat down and she comes running to my arms. “There, there.”

  I hold her against my body as she cries. The screaming slows, but she’s a mess.

  “How the—?” Ian says looking at Ruby in my arms.

  “She’s scared,” I explain. This little girl has had her entire world flipped upside down. I have no idea why I’m the only person she’ll come to right now, but that’s not my worry—Ruby is.

  Ia
n sits on the floor beside me, his hand reaching out, tucking the strand of blond hair behind her ear. “I’m here for you, princess. Uncle Ian loves you and just wants you to smile. That’s all.”

  Ruby’s little arms tighten. “Milk?” she asks.

  “You want some milk?” I repeat.

  She nods.

  “Can I get you some milk?” Ian tries again.

  She glares at him. “Aunt London.”

  This poor kid. And since I refuse to move in with Ian to be his daily translator, I have to find a way to make this better. I rub Ruby’s back and think. “Ruby,” I say softly. “If you want Auntie London to get your milk, then I need you to help me, can you do that?”

  She smiles.

  “I need you to sit on Uncle Ian’s lap,” I explain. Her tiny body goes stiff. “I’m not going anywhere but to the kitchen. You’ll be able to see me the whole time. Okay?”

  Ian watches me, and instead of the normal hatred in his eyes, I see appreciation. I know coming to me for help couldn’t have been easy for him. I don’t know that I would’ve gone to him if the tables were turned, but his love for Ruby overshadowed his own desires.

  I gently lift Ruby, and her arms start to slide from around my neck as I transfer her into his lap. Ian doesn’t move or say a word, he allows me to control the situation, which is totally unlike him.

  Ruby rests her head on Ian’s chest, and I sit there for second. Both of us watching each other. Both of us saying so much in a simple look. Both of us lost.

  I catch myself before I let my heart soften too much. Ian is the kind of guy who takes advantage of people’s vulnerability—or at least mine.

  I get to my feet and go into the kitchen. Opening the fridge, I look around for a carton of milk but don’t see one. “Ian,” I call out. “Where’s the milk?”

  “Isn’t there some in there?”

  “Not that I can see.”

  He stands and takes Ruby by the hand, leading her over to one of the stools at the kitchen island. “Wait right here, baby. Uncle Ian is going to get you some milk.”

  “I don’t know how, unless you’ve got a cow in your garage.”