Never Bargain with the Boss: Chapter 28

The After

I don’t know how long I rage for. Long enough that my whole body hurts, physically and emotionally. But eventually, my walls go back up and I shut down.

Blank and detached from everything, I clean up, making sure there’s no evidence of the thrown mug or tea on the wall. I fix the couch, right the pictures on the wall, and scrub the coffee table Riley already cleaned even though I don’t know why it bothered her in the first place.

And then I go to Cole’s.

It’s late and Grace is already asleep, so they try to get me to leave her for the night, but I can’t. Silently, I refuse and sit on their couch. If Grace stays, I stay. Janey excuses herself, and then it’s me and Cole. He stares at me, waiting for me to tell him something, anything. I stare at him for the same reason.

He fucking knew. Just like Riley.

He knew this threat was out there, and of all people, I would’ve trusted him to tell me something like this. He’s the threat assessor, yet he let me put my daughter, the most precious thing I have, in danger.

“Fuck you,” I snarl at him.

“Where’s Riley?” Her name on his lips is a bullet to my shattered soul and only serves to infuriate me again.

“You’re more worried about her than me and Grace?” I accuse coldly.

“Yes.” His reply is even colder. “You’re fine. Grace is fine.” He waves his hand toward their hallway of bedrooms where Grace is sleeping, emphasizing the point. “Riley…” He lets that trail off, and my heart clenches in my chest. But I can’t let it.

I made a promise nine years ago to Michelle at her funeral that I would take care of Grace for us both and do what she would’ve done. And that’s been my driving force ever since. I got side-tracked, distracted from that goal by the idea that maybe there could be more, but I won’t make that mistake again.

“Gone,” I tell Cole, answering his earlier question. “I don’t know where.”

“What the fuck have you done?” he hisses accusingly, rising to his feet.

I stare at him, shocked by his assumption that I’m the one who’s done anything wrong after all that’s happened tonight. I’m the only one in the right here, wronged by my brother, by some random guy, and mostly, by the woman I loved.

Love. Present tense.

My heart corrects my mind, and it hurts to recognize that it’s true. Even after everything, I do still love Riley. But love isn’t enough. This isn’t some easy love story. It’s life, and it’s complicated and sometimes ugly and hard.

I stare at Cole, eyes cold and teeth clenched, and grit out, “I did what I had to do.”

He shakes his head. “You are a fucking disaster, Cameron.”

He strides from the room, his nose buried in his phone, ignoring me. He’s probably texting Riley. I hope he’s checking on her. Someone should, and I can’t do it. I’m too weak, and I have to be strong for Grace. Because he’s right—I am a disaster, inside and out, but I’m all Grace has.

You’re all Riley has too.

Had, I correct.

The reminder is salt on the fresh wound of my broken heart, but I don’t let it sway me from doing the right thing, even though it guts me.

The next morning, I wake up to Grace poking me in the cheek. “Dad!” I think she’s trying to whisper, but it’s Grace so it’s more like most peoples’ normal speaking volume.

“Hey,” I greet her, my throat scratchy and voice rough. I don’t know when I fell asleep. Ten minutes ago, maybe? It feels like I haven’t slept for long. Or maybe I just feel like shit to begin with and lack of sleep has nothing to do with it.

After Cole stormed out, I just sat here, staring at the wall blankly. Cold disassociation got me through hell once before, although it had its friends scotch and bourbon to help then. Hopefully, I can get through this again, without the liquor this time.

“Are you okay?” Grace asks me. Her eyes are narrowed, her gaze shrewd, and I know she won’t miss a thing. Especially my eyes, which I can feel are gritty, possibly bloodshot, and most definitely haunted.

I lick my lips, forcing life into my voice. “Yeah, I’m okay. Are you? I was so worried about you, but you were already asleep when I got here last night.”

She shrugs, trying to play yesterday off, but I heard her voice on the phone, felt her fear when she hugged me after coming out of her hiding spot. “I’m fine.” We’re both faking, one hundred percent lying as we try to speak being okay into reality. “Where’s Riley?” Grace looks around like Riley might be hiding under a couch cushion or behind the curtains.

This is it. The moment I have to tell her that Riley is gone. But I can’t do it, not all at once. I don’t want to rip that Band-Aid off when she’s already had so much loss in her life.

“She has some stuff to deal with, so she’s not here right now.” Baby steps, carefully planting seeds that I can slowly foster into becoming our new reality.

A life without Riley.

It sounds awful. It feels worse.

Grace’s brows furrow as she thinks about my answer, but then she nods. “That makes sense. That Austin guy really scared her, huh? Want some pancakes? Riley showed me how to make them from scratch, and Uncle Cole probably has the stuff.”

She heads into the kitchen, helping herself to the containers of flour and sugar in the pantry and then opening the fridge. She pulls out milk and eggs, then stares at the ingredients she’s compiled. I can nearly see her checking the recipe in her mind.

But what I’m stuck on is Grace saying that Austin really scared Riley. But in that awful moment, she did what she had to so that Grace was as safe as possible. I heard her telling the police that she sent Grace upstairs to keep her out of sight, told her to call for help, trusting that Cole would understand the situation. She’d kept herself between Grace and Austin, ready to fight him with everything she had if it became necessary, and then she’d kept him talking, distracting him so that the police and backup would have time to get there. She did all that while her heart was racing, her fear was building, and her past ghosts came out to haunt her with a sly grin that threatened everything.

I understand all that on some deep level. I truly do. But it shouldn’t have happened in the first place.

Grace does indeed make pancakes for everyone. Cole and Janey eat them happily, though their smiles are strained, praising both her efforts and results. I swallow one, not tasting it at all but telling her that it’s delicious. She preens, crediting Riley with teaching her. Cole and Janey stare daggers at me. If I could feel anything, I’d probably be upset about that, but I’m numb, so I don’t give a shit.

When we get home at half past ten, Grace hesitantly asks, “Sooo… no school today?”

As a rule, I don’t let Grace skip school unless she’s got a fever or is throwing up. And there was the one time she had to miss for a riding competition. But I take school attendance seriously. Today, I don’t give a fuck. I want her here, with me, where I can keep my eyes on her and know she’s safe. I shake my head. “Movie marathon?” I offer. “Or we can watch whatever K-drama you’re into.” I won’t be able to read subtitles right now, but since I’m just going to stare at the screen anyway, it doesn’t matter.

“A movie’s fine. Riley and I are on episode seventeen of Alchemy of Souls, but she’d kill me if I watch without her.”

I bite my tongue, not telling her that she’ll have to finish the series on her own.

We make a nest of blankets on the huge couch in the media room and Grace turns on something with actors who are obviously in their late twenties but are playing characters in their teens. I don’t know what it is. It doesn’t matter. She watches the movie, and I watch Grace out of the side of my eye.

I could’ve lost her.

But my heart is broken because I did lose something… someone… Riley. And that’s starting to sink in the more I’m home. I can feel her absence here.

It’s so quiet.

There’s no humming, no singing, no bracelets jangling as she flits about doing this and that. There’s no life. She took it with her, leaving me dead inside again.

It’s too quiet.

We have to get back to normal. Or whatever normal was before Riley.

I get up early, having not slept again, and do a quick run on the treadmill, make my shake and force it down, and get dressed for work—boring black suit, plain white shirt, bland black tie, dull solid socks. I make Grace microwave pancakes, thankful there’s still some in the freezer, even if they’re a little frostbitten.

I kiss Grace on the forehead and she runs out to Mom, who agreed to take her to school today. Janey is going to pick her up this afternoon.

I go to work. I sit in a meeting, silently scowling as people talk about profits and losses, not giving a shit about any of it. Jeannie asks if I want lunch and I tell her no. I don’t want to eat, I don’t want to read another memo, I don’t want anything.

I want Riley.

Goddammit. I push away from my desk, walking over the window and staring out at the horizon. Is she out there somewhere? Close? Far away? That I don’t even know is a stabbing pain in my gut. I could call her, but what would I say? I’m sorry? I am, but that doesn’t change anything.

After Michelle died, putting Grace first was natural. She was all I had left.

This feels different.

It hurts to lose Riley by my own actions, not by some fate-decreed, out of my control loss. And while I do not, for a second, regret choosing Grace, I wish there were a way I could go back. Back to when Riley was mine and we were building something great. Back to when she didn’t tell me about the ghost haunting her. Fuck, back to when she left Austin’s house at only sixteen years old. I’d make him never follow her.

I’d keep her safe for her whole life.

But I can’t go back. There’s never been a way to do that. The only way to go is… forward.

At five o’clock, I leave, having not accomplished a fucking thing. Not that anyone notices or cares about that. They’ve all been scurrying out of my way as I stomped and snarled my way around the office all day. I’m sure there’s a warning on the grapevine again. ‘Watch out for Cameron, he’s back to being an asshole’, which is true.

If only they realized it’s gonna get worse and may never get better again.

As I pull up to Cole’s to pick up Grace, I realize it’s about to get a whole lot worse right now. Everyone’s here. There are so many cars, it looks like a block party for rich assholes. I sigh heavily and roll my eyes. I should’ve seen this coming, but I’ve been too lost in my own head to think about what anyone else might be doing.

I don’t even get the chance to knock on the door. Cole opens it as I’m walking up the driveway. Leaning against the doorframe, he looks me up and down, his frown a reflection of my own.

“If we’re doing this, let’s fucking do it.”

“Your funeral,” he tells me. And like that, I know all gloves are off. The one thing you don’t do to someone who’s grieving is make jokes about death. If they do, fine. They can cope how they need to. But you don’t do it to them, especially not first.

I push past him, into the living room. My siblings and their spouses are here. Kayla is likely the representative for Mom and Dad because there’s no way this intervention is happening without their knowledge and blessing.

“Whatever you want to say, I don’t give a single, solitary shit. This is between me and Riley and Grace and doesn’t involve any of you, so fuck off. Fuck off. Fuck off. Fuck off. And fuck off.” Each of those dismissals is directed at one of my siblings. I leave the spouses out of it… for now.

“Wow, look at you with all your fancy vocabulary and proper gentlemanly behavior. I can see why you’re the golden child,” Kyle deadpans. He’s usually the roughest, most unpolished of the Harringtons, but I might give him a run for his money at this point despite my thousand-dollar suit.

“Where’s Grace? We’re going home. I have to make dinner and she probably has homework.”

Kayla chuckles. “Nice try. We sent her out back with Dani when Cole saw you pull up. Have a seat.” She points at a dining room chair that’s already been pulled into the circle, but left vacant for me.

“Guest of honor?” I ask mockingly, pointedly ignoring both the chair and the order.

“We saw Riley yesterday,” Kayla informs me, her lips pursed into a confident smirk. She knows the effect that small statement will have on me, and when I slowly lower myself into the chair, her lips lift into a chilly, predatory smile. “I thought you’d see it my way.”

“How is she?”

“Better than you.” That dig came from an unlikely and unexpected source—Janey. The always-sweet, perpetually-happy woman is staring at me like I’ve brought dog shit in on my shoes and rubbed it all over her clean carpets.

Ironically, it makes me feel better that Riley is doing better than me. I wouldn’t want her to feel the way I do. It might sound weird, but I want her to be happy still. It just can’t be with me and Grace.

“She’s worried about you and Grace, feels guilty about what happened with Austin, and is remarkably understanding about why you kicked her to the curb like the trash she’s apparently always been told she is.”

Kayla’s clipped out, but more detailed answer is precisely crafted to hurt me as much as possible. And to make me angry. It works just as she knew it would. “She is not trash, and don’t ever call her that again,” I growl, pointing a finger at her in warning. She’s not the least bit scared of me. Not that I’d ever hurt her physically, but words can be equally damaging, and while Kayla is skilled, so am I.

“I didn’t. You did,” she informs me, her face perfectly impassive, and like that, my anger evaporates.

Fuck. She’s right. I certainly didn’t say that outright, but my actions spoke volumes. Worse, Kayla’s not done.

“When you fired her,” she finishes.

“You WHAT?!” Grace yells, blasting through the back screen door. Her eyes are wild, her hands thrown out, and her gaze is locked on me accusingly.

“Grace, honey,” I try to say, soothing her. I should’ve known she was listening at the door, but I figured Dani was keeping her busy while everyone raked me over the coals. Dani walks in behind Grace, not seeming the least bit apologetic about blowing things up even worse than they already were. In fact, she glances at Kayla, and I half-wonder if this was the plan all along, but I don’t get the chance to ask because Grace is shouting.

“What did you do, Dad? Where’s Riley? I thought she was talking to the police or something. You didn’t really fire her, did you?” Every question is hot on the heels of the last, her voice getting higher pitched with each one as she gets closer to hysterical. “I love her!”

The last one is a plea from the depths of her soul and breaks my heart all over again.

“Grace,” I say again, “let me try to explain.”

“No, you can un-fire her or whatever. Just get her back.” She points at the ground next to her like I can make Riley magically appear there. “Things were going so good! I just need more time to make you see.” She’s rambling… no, she’s ranting at me, and I’m trying to prepare some sort of rational, calm response right up until the end, when I get really confused.

“Make me see what?” I ask, instantly suspicious. My daughter, while sweet as can be, is also damn smart and I have no doubt that she’d use my being wrapped around her finger to manipulate me into getting something she wants. The only question is, what does she want?

Grace clamps her mouth shut, realizing she’s said too much. Her eyes jump around as she looks for someone to help her, but they’re all staring back at her, wanting the answer to that question too. She huffs as she rolls her eyes. “Fine. You wanna know?” she snaps. “I’ve been trying to get you two together since Riley got here, Dad. And it was working! You sit out on the patio every night, and I finally got you sitting beside each other.” She flashes me an annoyed glare. “You really have no rizz at all, do you?”

I have no idea what rizz is, so hopefully, I don’t have it. But she’s still going…

“I got you to dance together at the Fall Ball.” She starts ticking off things she’s done on her fingers. “I wanted to give you time alone so I’ve been hanging out in my room, doing my homework, which is also why I have straight As now. I’ve organized sleepovers to leave you two alone, thinking you’d take Riley on a date, but you just stayed home. Seriously?” She rolls her eyes again, somehow exasperated with me. “I hype you up to her all the time, but you’ve got to work with me here.”

My mind is whirling and spinning like a tornado is tearing through it. Grace… has been trying… to get me and Riley together?

“Wait, you’re saying that you’ve been plotting and scheming to…” Pieces click together, the picture becoming clear. “Get me and Riley together? Why?” I don’t mean to sound so stupid, and I could certainly list out dozens of reasons I would want to be with Riley, but none of them seem like things Grace would even notice, much less value. I mean, does Grace give a shit that Riley’s little fang tooth is the cutest thing I’ve ever seen and I feel like a god every time I make her smile big enough to see it, or that her bracelets drive me crazy, or that her optimism in the face of the trauma of her life is inspiring? Probably not.

“Because she’s my chance at a real family!”

Grace’s outburst stops everything—time, my heart, the whole damn world.

“We are a real family,” I tell her, meaning it. We might not be the picture-perfect postcard version, but we’ve been a family of two for a long time and are doing okay for ourselves. I’ve made sure of it, mostly by always putting Grace first.

Grace sags, realizing that she’s hurt my feelings. She sighs dramatically, sounding more life-weary than her twelve years should allow for. “I know, Dad. And I’m happy with you, us against the world like you always say. But Riley’s our chance to be a regular family. I love Mom, but she’s been gone for a long time. And you smile with Riley. You’re happier now… well… usually,” she grumbles. “Riley’s my shot at having a mom again, like the other kids. She’s who I want for that. I’ve been trying to make her my mom all along, and now you’ve ruined everything.”

“Grace,” I say softly, gathering her into my arms as the tears stream down her face, “I’m sorry I didn’t realize you felt like you were missing a mother figure in your life. I can understand why you’d want Riley to fill that role. She’s amazing, she’s magic, she’s great.” I can see the hope starting to fill her eyes when she looks up at me. “But she also put you in danger, and that’s unacceptable. I would never do anything to risk you. You’re everything to me.”

“She didn’t put me in danger. That guy did, and that’s not Riley’s fault.” I tilt my head, ready to argue with her, but doesn’t give me a chance. “Dad, bad things just happen sometimes, and they put us on a new and different path than we thought we’d be on, and that’s okay. Riley taught me that.”

She sounds so mature, so well-adjusted, so… like Riley. They have both been through hellish experiences at a young age, and while Grace had the blessing of being surrounded by a supportive family who loved her and Riley went into the foster care system, they seem to have found a kindred spirit in one another.

Could my daughter be right? All signs have historically pointed to yes, but this is different. This is… my life, and her life, and Riley’s too.

“Maybe this is the path we’re supposed to be on now,” I suggest, playing devil’s advocate against Grace’s argument. “What if we were supposed to meet, and learn, and love, and then let each other go?” Even as I say it, it doesn’t feel right. Actually, it feels so very, very wrong.

“What if you weren’t?” she questions back, and that sounds good to me. “What if you’re meant to be together?”

Am I an easy sell? Fuck yes, I am, mostly because she’s telling me the things I want to hear. That I can have Riley while still prioritizing her, and that she’s not only okay with that, but it’s also what she wants too.

“Oh, fuck!” I hiss, standing to my full height. “What have I done?”

“Fudged everything up,” Grace answers with a heavy dose of ‘duh’ in her conclusion. “But you can fix it. You always fix things. You’re my dad, and that’s what dads do.”

She has the utmost faith in me. I wish I had some in myself because I have severely fucked up and there’s no easy way to fix it.

I look around at my siblings, praying that one of them might have some idea how in the world to undo a mistake of this caliber, but they’re all looking back at me with sadness in their eyes. They don’t have the same idolized version of me that Grace does.

“She loves you, but you lost her when you made her feel she wasn’t worth it. She doesn’t think you’re capable of the love she deserves, and honestly, I’m scared she might be right,” Kayla tells me, not holding back at all. She’s not the lovey-dovey, sweet and syrupy kind of woman, and in her eyes, a fuck-up of this severity is a flat-out deal breaker. She would have zero patience if some guy did this to her.

I hope Riley is more forgiving.

Thankfully, Janey is a bit more optimistic. “You’re made for each other,” she states. She’s been quiet through this whole thing, just watching me spin out, but she’s Riley’s best friend, and I think unintentional or not, she’s been checking to see if I’m good enough for her. I hope I passed the test.

I look to her, my brows raised in question. “How do you know that?”

“You don’t look at each other with stars in your eyes, like wishes are easy to come by. You look at each other with reality—and all the darkness it sometimes holds—in your hearts, but at the same time, like there could be light and love waiting for you.”

“Tell me where she is.” That one I direct to Cole, because he’s the only one who’d know. I’m still mad at him for not telling me about the Austin situation from the beginning, but this is how he can make that up to me.

“Thought you’d never ask,” he quips, looking like he’s fighting a smile. He glances down at his phone, then jerks his head back up. “To be clear, if you hurt her again, I’ll bury you in a shallow grave in some deserted woods I know about.”

He wouldn’t. Not because he couldn’t or shouldn’t, but because my brother knows better than to bury a body shallowly. He’d be the one to hand-dig a hole twelve feet deep and put you in vertically so any heat sensors wouldn’t recognize it as a body.

“If I fuck up this bad again, please do it.”

He looks back down, acknowledging the request, and studies his phone. “Looks like she’s still at the hotel. Texting you the address.”

I’m already standing, my coat in my hand, and I nod. “Grace, are you good to stay here a little longer? No promises, but I’m going to go talk to Riley.”

“Go get her, Dad!” she cheers hopefully. “Bring Riley home!”

Fuck, I hope I can do that. I thought I was putting Grace first by sending Riley away, and I was willing to make that sacrifice for my daughter. But the idea that I can have it all—my daughter safe, my heart full, and Riley happy—is my dream now.