Sex Retreat(22)
“But she thinks of Mitch as family.” Trixie stooped over her bags and dug around for her pajamas. She couldn’t believe she was actually planning on staying there, sleeping in the bed she’d once shared with Mitch, Brock, and Rory together. “If Mitch has been here and he doesn’t want us to know, Bertie won’t utter a word.”
“She has a point.”
Brock took a deep breath and sat on the couch. “Trixie, we have something we need to tell you.”
Rory swung his leg over the arm of the sofa, right next to Brock. The two of them looked as if they were ready to confess their involvement in some major scandal.
“We met with him, Trix,” Rory said, his head down. “We saw Mitch in Asheville last night.”
His words were like a shot through the heart. She held her flannel pajamas against her chest and slowly rose to her feet.
“You saw him in Asheville?” she asked, wondering if she had been crazy before. Had Mitch visited their farm? Had he finally decided to return for her?
She swallowed the lump in her throat. “I knew it.”
“You knew what, Trixie?” Brock pressed.
“Several times I thought I spotted him. For nearly two weeks, I’ve been convinced someone was watching me. The two of you dismissed it but things didn’t add up. Home movies disappeared. Photographs and other items from the downstairs den just vanished.”
“Are you saying Mitch came to our home to steal from us?”
“Of course not,” she replied. “He wasn’t robbing us. He was trying to hold on to us. The DVDs he took were always returned the next day. The photo albums were his and yet he returned those, too.”
“You’re sure about this?” Rory asked.
“You know she’s spot-on,” Brock bit out. He dragged his palm down his face and finally said, “We brought you here because we thought this would be the last place he’d look for us.”
“And where did you come up with such an idea, Brock? Why wouldn’t he return here? This is the only home he has now. His roots are here. His family spent their summers here. Why wouldn’t he return home?”
“Because, Trixie, there are too many ghosts from the past lingering behind the Cow Camp gates. I don’t think Mitch is ready to face them.”
“You aren’t telling me everything. What else is there?”
Brock thinned his lips. His nostrils flared. “The biggest reason I thought he’d stay away is because of you. Your memory is here, too. You exist in every shadow. Hell, your pictures line his walls. I didn’t think he’d come home because if he wanted you, he knew where to find you.”
“Apparently not,” Trixie bit out, fury consuming her. “You made a reunion rather difficult. Didn’t you?”
“We tried,” Brock replied. “I won’t lie to you, Trixie. Not about this. Not about anything.”
“Well that’s a nice change seeing as you swept me off my feet and promised a sizzling intimate sex retreat—never mind the fact that you didn’t mention Cow Camp or that you were trying to get me out of town before Mitch came to see me. Yes, why don’t you try a dose of honesty now, Mr. Sheldon?”
“Trixie, I don’t want Mitch to hurt you.”
She swung her gaze to Rory. “Were you in on this?” She held up her hand. “Don’t answer that. How silly of me. Of course you were. The two of you are adjoined at the hip.”
“I resent that implication,” Brock mumbled, clasping his hands in front of his extended legs.
“I don’t give a damn what you resent right now, Brock.” Trixie inched closer. “How could you do this to us?” She glared at Rory. “I just don’t understand. Why would you shut Mitch out like this? Don’t you remember what he and I meant to one another? Have you forgotten that the three of you were best friends, closer than brothers?”
Brock snarled. “And are you ready to dismiss his life choices and his negligence that damn near got you and your sisters killed?”
“Jordie Anne,” Trixie snapped. “Say it with me, Brock. Say her fucking name! You’ve spent our entire relationship avoiding the talk about her. You dodge her name at every turn. You refuse to take ownership in what happened to that girl yet you were just as guilty as Mitch. The only difference here? Mitch decided to own his faults and carry the burden of responsibility.
“And what was it that you did, Brock? Hmm? What? Tell me, damn you!” She flew against him with her palms against his chest, her small hands balling in tightly clenched fists as the tears streamed down her face.