A Matter of Trust(84)
“Yeah, it does, Pete,” Ty said, pulling no punches. “She doesn’t want to date you—or at least—oh man, this is not my story to tell.” He glanced at Brette, back at Pete. “I do not want to be in the middle of this.”
“Clearly you are,” Pete said. “What do you mean, Jess wanted to rewrite her life? That she lost everything, including”—and now he swallowed, as if trying to get the words down—“her fiancé?”
Ty could see how wounded Pete was and wanted to have some compassion for the guy. But Pete made it hard for anyone to feel sorry for him.
“Jess Tagg is really Selene Jessica Taggert,” Brette said quietly. “The daughter of Damien B. Taggert.”
Pete stared at Brette. “Who?”
“She’s the daughter of a billionaire who bilked thousands out of their investments,” Ty said.
Pete frowned.
Really? All this trouble, and the guy didn’t even know what Ty was talking about. “Pete, she testified against her own father. He was sentenced to 150 years in prison.”
Pete’s mouth opened then. Just a moment of disbelief before he blew out a breath. “Wow.”
“Yeah, and knowing how you felt about being betrayed—”
Pete held up his hand. “Trust me, I feel more betrayed about the fact she acted like you two were dating.”
Oh. That. “Sorry—”
“Wait a minute. Pete, did you not hear him?” Brette said. “She lied to you.”
Pete stared at her. Then, quietly, “I heard him.” Then he looked at Ty. “Miles wants us back at HQ. We need to get into Heaven’s Peak and pick up Gage and Ella. They found Oliver.”
Then he turned and left, leaving Ty standing there, nonplussed.
He looked at Brette.
“He might not care who Jess Tagg is, but I do. And pretty soon, so will the world.”
“Brette—”
“No. She owes the world an explanation. She doesn’t just get to start over. She . . . she . . .” She was crying again, and he hated that even in her fury, he wanted to reach past it, pull her to himself.
Tell her that if she just took a breath, she might see this from a different perspective. But then again, he understood exactly how it felt to feel bereft, to have life pulled out from beneath you.
Longing to figure out how to find your footing again.
“Please, just wait until we can talk about this—”
“No. I trusted you. I . . . I thought you cared about me.”
“I do care about you—”
“And I even kissed you. How stupid can I be?” She shook her head, her voice falling, breaking. “I just never learn.”
Never learn? “You’re not stupid—”
“Stop.” She looked at him then. “Admit it. The minute you saw that I recognized her, you decided to run interference. That’s what the ride to PEAK, the babysitting was all about.”
He shook his head, but he knew she saw right through him. “Maybe at first, but—”
He could have punched her with less effect. She winced, and he felt it in his own solar plexus.
He pitched his voice low. “Brette, I do care about you. And I know you think I should have told you, but it wasn’t my secret to tell. I got caught in the middle, but I promise you—that kiss, for me, meant something. Please, just trust me—”
“Get out.”
He took a breath.
“I mean it, Ty. Any trust I had in you died the moment you chose Selene over me. You can’t have both.”
“I didn’t choose—”
“Get. Out!”
He froze, then gave her a tight, sad nod. “Okay, Brette, if that’s the way you want it.”
She drew in a breath, wrapped her arms around her waist. “What other way could it ever be? I’ll never be able to trust you again.”
Then she rolled over, her back to him.
He walked past his soggy ice cream sandwiches and out of her room.
Gage needed to get off this mountain and back into his life.
No, into a new life. One that included Ella.
He sat at the mouth of the tent, holding a blackened stick, occasionally stirring the fire back to life. Reaching over to his pile of kindling, he added a thick branch that would have to do for a log. His fire wouldn’t win any Boy Scout awards, but at least he’d found kindling, enough low-hanging, dry branches to keep a feeble blaze alive.
Sparks spit into the waning night. Already, the dent of morning pressed against the black, a shade of lavender with hints of gold against the jagged horizon to the east.
He felt stupid to have to tell Kacey in the morning that they didn’t need to airlift Oliver out, but better that he’d been wrong about Oliver’s condition than to have the guy bleeding internally or going into shock. Gage had checked his bruising, and it hadn’t seemed to be deepening.