Cruel (The Buck Boys Heroes 2)

“Now,” I bite the word out. “I want you to understand everything.”

I close my eyes briefly to gather my thoughts. I hear the soft sound of the lamp on the nightstand being turned on.

The soft light it provides is just enough for me to see her beautiful face clearly. I need to focus on that so I can get all of this out. So I can begin to put it behind me.

“By the time he jumped, Nigel was banging on the door. He had heard us arguing. I ran to let him in. I was panicked. Jesus, was I panicked, Juliet.”

“I can’t imagine what you went through.”

“He rushed in, and told me to call 911. I couldn’t think straight, so I ran into my bedroom to get my cell phone even though it was in my pocket.”

“That’s understandable,” she says softly.

“That’s when I saw the envelope in the middle of my bed.”

“An envelope? From who?”

I look into her eyes. “My dad. It was a note, written on the hotel stationary.”

“A suicide note?”

I nod. “I ripped it open and read the first few lines. Nigel was in the room with me by then. I threw it at him and told him to make it disappear.”

“It must have been so painful to read.”

“Painful, so painful,” I repeat. “But, it held secrets. I didn’t read all of those secrets in that moment, but I read enough.”

“I don’t understand,” she whispers.

“Ares was in trouble financially. He had run his personal funds dry to keep the business thriving. He was embroiled in an affair with one of his aides.”

“Serious trouble then.”

I kiss her forehead. “Very and for a long time, I refused to acknowledge that note. I carried the burden of his death on my shoulders. I believed that he had waited to jump until I came back because it was a plea for help, and when we argued that was enough to push him to do it. I blamed myself. I felt I had killed him because I couldn’t save him.”

“You were arrested for his murder,” she says. “Kavan, the note would have cleared you right away.”

I look into her eyes. “It would have tarnished his legacy, Juliet, and that was all I had left to give him. All I could do to right my wrong was to honor his dream, so I asked Nigel to keep the note private.”

“You’re lucky the charges were dropped.” She moves to rest a hand on my chest. “You could have gone to prison for life, Kavan.”

“I had a good lawyer and they had no evidence of a murder other than statements made by some of the hotel guests.” I press my hand over hers. “They dropped the charges, sealed his death records, and it was over.”

“People still believe that you killed him, Kavan.”

“I know I didn’t. You know I didn’t. That’s all that matters to me.”

She presses her forehead against mine. “You have been through hell.”

“I survived it. My father didn’t,” I whisper. “I was given access to my trust fund a few months later when I turned twenty-five, so I paid back his debts, balanced the books of Bane Enterprises and have worked hard since then to preserve his legacy.”

“I understand.”

“I have never been ashamed of the way my father died,” I say with conviction. “If I believed that sharing that note would help someone dealing with mental health issues, I’d do that. The secrets in that note would hurt a lot of people, so I’ve tried to strike a balance by funding mental health initiatives, and I want to do more. I want to be more hands on.”

“I admire that.” Her hand trails over my chin. “You’re in a position to make a difference in this world.”

“You’ve made a remarkable difference in mine, Juliet.”

“I want to keep doing that.”

“Forever?”

“Forever,” she repeats before she gifts me with a soft kiss.

Chapter Fifty

Juliet

I watch Mr. Mark as he reads the second article that I wrote. It’s the one professing my love to Mr. Bane.

It’s not exactly what he wanted. There are no details of the night of Ares Bane’s death. It’s simply a journalist spilling her heart out about a man that the world has labeled as something he’s not.

“He didn’t kill his father, did he?”

I shake my head. “No, sir, he didn’t? But I’m standing by that article as written. Kavan’s past is his story to tell, and he’s not comfortable doing that publically, so this is my story of who he is as seen through my eyes.”

He glances up from his computer. “Through the eyes of a woman who adores him.”

“I love him,” I say. “Very much.”

“Her Viewpoint.”

“Excuse me?” I ask because that’s a little left field stuff.

I want to keep him on track. He liked the all business article I wrote about Bane Enterprises, so he may run that. I showed him this one at Kavan’s urging. I have my fingers crossed that this is the one that will make it to print.