Take Me Home (The Heartbreak Brothers 1)

Gray’s heart was clamoring against his ribcage. He thought about all those years he’d been desperate for his father’s approval, but instead had gotten his condemnation instead. Yeah, they’d made him hard. Hard enough to face this now.

But at what cost?

“I just wanted your love,” Gray told him, his voice thick. “But I know you had none of that left in you. Not after Mom died.” He took a deep breath. “But I’ve come to realize I don’t need it. Not any more. I’m not scared of you, Dad. I feel sorry for you.”

His dad pressed his lips together and grabbed his cane, leaning heavily on it. “I’m an old man, Grayson. Too old to change and start talking about love and happiness.” He walked over to where Gray was standing. “But maybe you should look in the top drawer of my desk. You might learn something.”

Gray stepped to the left so his father could walk through the doorway.

“I’m going to sit in the garden,” he said. “I expect you’ll be gone by the time I come back.”

Gray silently watched his father leave. Curious, he walked over to his dad’s old mahogany desk, and sat down in the green leather chair he’d just vacated. It was still warm.

He curled the fingers of his good hand beneath the handle and pulled at the drawer, frowning when it stuck. Another tug and it grudgingly opened.

Gray reached inside to pull something out. A CD. He lifted it to his eyes and saw it was one of his. His second album, with his bare, tattooed torso on the front.

There were more CDs in there. Four of them in total. And there were printed programs from his tours – ones that Aunt Gina must have brought back with her. Blinking, he pulled out a large scrapbook and opened it up. The pages were covered with magazine and newspaper articles, and fliers from his shows. Gray turned the pages carefully, his throat scratchy as he read early reviews of his first album, when nobody had known who he was.

And then the last item pasted. His interview with Rock Magazine. His dad must have done that this morning.

Tears stung at his eyes. He blinked them away as he closed the scrapbook and carefully replaced it in the drawer. The top of the book snagged at something. A frame. Gray lifted it carefully, so it didn’t catch at the scrapbook and turned it over to look at the photograph. It was in color, but faded as though it had been left facing the sun for too long. Still, it was clear enough for Gray to recognize the people standing in the backyard of this very house.

His father looked so young. He couldn’t have been much older than Gray was now. And he was standing next to a beautiful young woman. Gray’s mom. There was a baby in her arms – himself, he presumed – and the two of them were looking down at the little one, smiles lighting up their faces.

He swallowed hard. He’d never seen this photograph before. Never seen it on his father’s desk or in his bedroom. Had he hidden it away because the memories were too painful? God knew it hurt Gray to look at it.

His chest was still tight as he pushed the drawer closed and stood to walk out of the study.

His father was too old to change, he’d admitted as much himself, but maybe Gray could live with that. Understand it, even. Because if he’d lost Maddie the way his father h

ad lost his mom, it would kill him.

With that thought, he headed upstairs to pack the essentials he’d need for the flight to L.A. It was time to stand up for the one good thing in his life.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Maddie was moping, and she didn’t like it one bit. She didn’t let things affect her, not any more. She had trampoline skin, problems bounced off her and on to somebody else. And the things that didn’t? Well, she usually had a sarcastic retort that made it look as though it didn’t hurt.

But this video and all the comments people were making about it? They hurt her to the core. Some people were saying she was a gold-digger, first setting her eyes on Brad Rickson and then on Gray Hartson. Others were making fun of her, asking how she could sleep through two people having sex next to her.

And yeah, there were kind words, too. People saying how despicable it was that Brad recorded his cheating on her while she was sleeping. Others calling for him to be prosecuted for sex crimes.

Either way, all of it made her want to hide away from the world. To unzip herself from this body and climb into a dark corner until the gossip died down.

That’s if it ever died down. Hartson’s Creek was a small town. People here gossiped the same way they breathed in oxygen.

“Grace wants you to read her a story,” Ashleigh said as she walked into the family room. “That’s if you’re up for it.”

“Of course I am.” Maddie put her phone down resolutely. “I’d love to read to her.”

“When you come back down, we can open a bottle of wine and eat that ice cream you were talking about. And watch something on Netflix.”

“Are you sure I’m not causing you any problems by being here?” Maddie asked her. “I can’t imagine this is what you had planned for this evening.”

“Honey, you’re my sister. Nothing is more important than making sure you’re okay right now.”

It was strange how easily they’d fell out and made up again. It had been like that ever since they were little girls. Maybe blood did run thicker than water. Because Maddie felt love for her sister wash over her.