Everywhere and Every Way(89)
Cal realized she’d never been planning to come back.
Somehow the mother he loved and adored had had a secret life. She’d left her sons and her husband behind, never realizing an ignored red light would be the turning point in all of their lives. They’d never be able to talk to her, get any explanations, or find a way to understand the horrific betrayal.
After that, Christian Pierce became so cold, Cal wondered if real blood actually ran through his veins. All of them died a bit that night. They never seemed able to recover once the light of their lives flickered out.
Six years. How had six years gone by so quick? How had six years gone by so slow? Pain clawed at him. Cal lifted the glass in silent salute to the Fates and tipped it back. The fiery liquid burned his throat and warmed his belly. It would take a long time to wipe out the images, though. But the bartender was right.
Cal needed to pace himself.
Morgan touched up her lipstick, ready for her night out, when her iPhone beeped. Sydney’s voice echoed on the other end. “Morgan, it’s me. I’m so sorry about this, but I have to cancel tonight.”
“Are you okay?” she asked.
“Yes. Becca just has a low-grade fever, and I don’t want to risk it. I hate that it’s last-minute, but I’d be worried about her all night.”
“Oh, my goodness, of course! I understand completely; she needs some fine chicken soup and her mama.”
Sydney laughed. “That sounds like the perfect combination.”
“No worries. I’ll snuggle up with a good book tonight and order in.”
“Good.” She paused. “Have you spoken to Cal?”
Morgan stiffened. She didn’t want to think of Cal and his odd detachment. “Not since I saw him at the office. Why?”
The pause was longer this time. “Did he seem like he wanted to see you tonight? Or act differently?”
“He definitely didn’t want to see me tonight,” she said. “He seemed fine. What’s going on, Sydney? I feel like I’m missing something.”
A sigh poured over the line. “Normally, I’d mind my own business, but Cal’s changed since you both started dating. He’s happier than I’ve ever seen him, but he’s not the type to reach out and ask for help. I think he needs you.”
“I don’t think so,” she said softly. Her throat tightened. “He was very . . . distant.”
“Morgan, today is the sixth anniversary of his mother’s death,” Sydney said quietly. “She died in a horrific car accident.”
Morgan sucked in her breath. “I didn’t know.”
“Cal doesn’t like to talk about it. The thing is, they found out she was running away with another man. They both died in the crash. Cal and Dalton and Tristan never got over the betrayal.”
Her mind spun. The way Cal seemed tired and disengaged today. The raw emotion whenever he spoke about his mother, and his refusal to discuss the circumstances of her death. The pieces clicked together, and emotion surged. Morgan had been so focused on herself, she’d never noticed the ache in his eyes. “Is he with his brothers?”
“I don’t know. They’ve been separated for five years, so I’m not sure if they’ll be together tonight.”
“Do you have any idea where he’d be?”
“No. Maybe at home. Or some bar. He wouldn’t want to see anyone he knows.”
“I’ll call and then go to his house first. Thanks for telling me, Sydney.”
“You’re welcome. You’re good for him, Morgan. He seems . . . whole with you.”
They hung up, and Morgan immediately shot him a text. Then a call that went straight to voice mail. Grabbing her purse and her keys, she decided to head to his house first.
She had to find him.
chapter eighteen
Dude, what are you doing here?”
Cal looked up. The Jack was finally doing its job, and a delicious fog softened all the hard edges. He squinted and focused on the familiar figure next to him. A short bark of laughter escaped his lips. “Hey, little brother. Fancy seeing you here.”
Dalton slid onto the bar stool next to him. He shook his head and picked up the half-empty bottle. “Started without me, huh?” His wavy hair was twisted back in a ridiculous man bun, and his face looked a bit haggard. “Well, I guess I better catch up.”
Cal dragged his bottle back across the bar. “Get your own bottle.”
Dalton shook his head and lifted his hand to motion to the bartender. She came strolling over with pure disdain, like he was an annoyance for wanting a drink. Yeah, he was beginning to like her.
“I’ll have a matching bottle,” Dalton said. His youngest brother flicked his gaze over the hot girl. “Nice tat. What’s your name, gorgeous? Mine’s Dalton.”