Off Limits (Secrets Kept 1)

Then, when I’d been honest with myself about who I was, I’d been scared because I was married to my best friend who meant the world to me. Hurting Mads hadn’t been an option. But eventually, there’d been no way around it—I couldn’t keep up with the lie.

“I used to think so,” Nora added.

“That’s not fair,” Mom told her. “This is killing Ryder. None of it is helping him or Maddy. You know he would never set out to make her suffer.”

“I don’t understand how he couldn’t know!” Grant bellowed.

“Jesus Christ. They’re fucking adults! They’re twenty-five years old. Can’t we let them handle their shit?” Leave it to Kinsley to be blunt that way. My sister was the greatest. She didn’t screw around, and, as always, her words fueled me into action.

“Mads, can I talk to you alone?” I’d told her just the two of us, of course. It had been devastating, but now, dealing with it between our families wasn’t going to make things any easier.

“Yes,” she said just as her mom spoke for her, “No.”

“Kinsley’s right,” Hutch added. “They’re adults. You don’t need to speak for Madison. She’s a big girl.” He said that, but how often had Hutch done the same with her? How often had I?

“I just…maybe I need some time,” Mads replied.

I was stuck between wanting to fight for her more, for our friendship, because three seconds ago, she’d answered yes, but also not wanting to upset her any more. Arguing about her standing up to her parents wasn’t going to make this situation better, and maybe she’d just been trying not to hurt me when she’d agreed.

“I think you should all leave,” Grant said, and when Grant spoke, everyone obeyed. That’s how it always had been and how it always would be.

I stood, looked down at my friend—the woman I’d thought I’d been in love with. When things began to change between us, when they’d gotten harder, I’d told myself it was because she was my best friend and maybe I could only see her that way, rather than admitting it was getting harder because she wasn’t a man. “For what it’s worth, I really am sorry. I never meant to lie to you. I never meant for this to happen. If you ever want to talk, I’m here.”

She nodded but didn’t reply. I took a breath, hoping this had somehow been a nightmare and I hadn’t just blown up our families. When no one said anything, Mom, Dad, Kinsley, and I left.

It was the last time we were ever in the Hutchinsons’ home.

In anger, my father set out right away to separate the Hutchinson-Lynwood Group, not discussing it with Grant before he did so. Our parents had built the number-one commercial real estate agency in Atlanta together, and I’d screwed that up too.

I left for California three months later.

I kept my Georgia cell phone number.

Mads never called, and my parents never got their friends back.

1

Hutch

“Trauma. ER. Five minutes. Trauma. ER. Five minutes. Trauma. ER. Five minutes.”

The second I heard the announcement overhead, I shoved to my feet. My adrenaline spiked, the familiar feeling of fear and determination like a carbonated drink that had been shaken up and was ready to burst inside me.

I was in the back, dictating on the patients I’d just seen, and immediately made my way to the main part of the emergency department—or ED, as the medical staff called it. “Do you know what we have?” I asked Liz, the charge nurse on duty.

“MVA. One patient. That’s all I know so far.”

Motor vehicle accident. That was the majority of the traumas we got. There were others, of course; shootings, someone falling from a roof, boating accidents—I’d seen it all.

Before I knew it, the EMTs were wheeling in the patient. “Twenty-eight-year-old female. Looks like she lost control and hit a tree, driving at high speed. She was in and out of consciousness, complaining about pain in her back and legs. There was blunt force trauma to her chest. I think her air bag might have malfunctioned and not gone off in time. She hit the steering wheel hard.” He gave the information and some of her vitals as the trauma team all followed while they wheeled her into Room Three.

“Can you tell me your name?” I asked her once we were in the room. Her eyes were wide open now, panicked as they darted around.

“I…can’t move. Why can’t I move?” she asked, her voice choppy.

“You’re in the ED, and we have you on a board and with a brace on your neck to keep your spine stabilized until we assess you. What’s your name? Can you tell me your name?”

“Laney.”

I made eye contact with the EMT, who nodded.

“Good job, Laney. I’m Dr. Hutchinson. You’re going to be fine. We’ll take good care of you, okay?” The nurses and the other members of the trauma team were already doing their part—vitals, IVs. “We need X-ray in here, STAT.”