Chapter 20

Chapter Twenty

brONX

Bronx was inside the gas station grabbing a drink and the short list of snacks Lucas had requested when his phone went off. Six calls in three minutes. He didn't notice his screen blinking until he dipped his head into the car to pop his gas tank door.

There was a single text from Monty, and in spite of the three simple words, something about them sounded frantic.

Monty: Call me please.

Bronx started the pump, then walked around to the front of his car and leaned on the hood as he dialed. It rang one and a half times before Monty picked up. His voice sounded more tense than Bronx had heard him in a while.

"I have a houseguest."

Bronx blinked, staring off into the distance. "What does that mean?"

"Poppy's here. I…I know you had a night with the guys and you were heading home after that, but is there any wa y…" Monty trailed off. "Actually, never mind. I can handle it."

Bronx smiled softly just as the pump clicked off. "I can be there in ten."

"Bronx—"

"Nine, if you let me go right now so I can get back on the road."

Monty sighed softly. "Alright. Thank you."

"You know it, sparky. Do you want to give me a heads-up though?"

Monty was quiet for a long moment before he answered. "She's left him."

"Your dad?"

"Mm. She hasn't said much since she got here. She didn't bring anything with her, so I have no idea how bad it was when things went down."

Fear prickled up Bronx's spine. "Do you think he hurt her?"

At that, Monty laughed. "I think she hurt him—I think she broke his heart. She might have been the only woman he's ever loved in whatever messed-up way he's capable of loving."

That was such a loaded statement. Bronx didn't actually doubt that Rod was capable of some kind of love, but there was so much to unpack with that man. But Bronx also knew from personal experience that a person could be both sinner and saint all at once. The world wasn't as black-and-white as he would have preferred it to be.

"I'm going to call Lucas and let him know I'm staying over," Bronx said, pushing away from the car.

"If you want to pick him up, I can wait. I'm just worried my father's going to show up here," Monty admitted .

"Give me twenty minutes at the most," Bronx promised. He took a breath. "Hey, sparky?"

"Mm?"

"I love you."

Monty was quiet for a beat, but Bronx knew he was smiling. "I love you too. See you soon."

Bronx got his car sorted, then sat in the driver's seat and called up his son. It took Lucas a while to answer, and he didn't sound like he was home. "Is this an emergency?"

"Define emergency," Bronx said.

"Anything bleeding, broken, or someone dying?"

Bronx had to laugh. That was his rule about Luke interrupting him at work when he was little. "No. But poop hit the fan over at Monty's with his dad and his dad's wife. She's there right now, and he needs some support in case Rod shows up. I think I need to stay over."

"Uh, yeah," Lucas said. "Don't let him deal with that man alone."

"Where are you? I can come get you if you want to join me."

Lucas cleared his throat, sounding guilty. "Uh. I'm…I'm on a double date right now, actually."

Bronx sat back, startled. "A date?"

"Double date. Blind date—ha ha. Gage set it up."

Bronx's stomach twisted. "Oh, Lukie?—"

"No, it's good. It's nice. We can talk about it later, okay?"

"Have Gage drop you off at Monty's if you don't mind potential drama. I think he'd like it if you were there too."

Lucas had a room there now, and Monty had spent two weeks organizing the house and setting up labels and bump dots in the kitchen, bathroom, and laundry room so Lucas didn't need to ask for help. Lucas felt safe there, so Bronx wasn't surprised when he agreed.

"Tell him to hang in there. I don't think this date is actually going anywhere."

"We'll talk soon."

Bronx hung up and hit the road, bypassing the turnoff to his street as he made his way to Monty's. There was a small, sporty convertible with the top down parked in his usual spot, so he pulled around beside it, then made his way up the drive.

There were lights on, but when he walked in, the house was almost deathly quiet. He wasn't sure what he was expecting—maybe not crying, but a little laughter. Celebration. Anything other than the tension he was feeling.

He searched the rooms inside, and it wasn't until he ventured out into the small garden area that he found them. Poppy was dressed in leggings and an oversized sweater, curled in a chair with her legs pulled to her chest. Monty was in a chair across the table from her, saying nothing, his gaze fixed out into the darkness.

"Hey."

Neither of them startled, which meant they'd heard him pull up. Monty tipped his head back, and Bronx dropped a kiss on his lips before taking the chair closest to his lover.

"I didn't mean to ruin your night," Poppy said. "I didn't know where else to go, and I know you don't deserve this, Monty."

"No one deserves him," Monty said quietly. He reached for Bronx's hand and squeezed. "Except maybe my brothers and sister. They literally ask for it."

Poppy scoffed. "They used to. Things have been…different ever since that dinner."

Bronx couldn't help but feel like he'd upset the balance. Not that it was a bad thing, but there was still a little tingle of guilt in the tips of his fingers. His ex had always accused him of ruining things that were good—that were comfortable. Maybe that was true.

He just couldn't regret this.

"He said if I left, he wouldn't come after me. We have a prenup, so it's not like I can fight him for anything."

Monty's head snapped over, and Bronx realized that Monty and Poppy hadn't actually discussed much of anything since she got there. "Tell me there's a settlement for you."

"One amount if we had kids and one if we didn't. He didn't tell me he'd had a vasectomy though," she said with a small, bitter laugh. "I found out tonight after the last negative test I took." Her voice was trembling. "We were trying. He let me think…" She trailed off and swallowed thickly. "It doesn't matter."

"It does. If he didn't disclose that, you can probably have the agreement thrown out," Monty told her.

She shook her head. "I don't want that. I don't want anything from him. I just…" She let out a bitter laugh. "I feel like a monster because I thought I was different—I thought it was all okay so long as he loved me and didn't treat me the way he treated everyone else."

Bronx winced. That wasn't a great look for her.

"I know," she said, answering their expressions. "I don't expect pity. I just needed a place to gather my thoughts and access my personal account. He's already frozen all of my cards. He called it a failsafe—if I ever left him in the middle of the night, all the accounts would freeze so I couldn't clear him out. I think that hurts just as bad as everything else. That he'd think I would."

"My mother did," Monty said very quietly. "Not completely, but she devastated a few of his accounts. Took her lover on a very long, very posh Mediterranean cruise."

"Is that why he hates Greece?" Poppy asked.

Monty burst into laughter, but the sound wasn't full of any kind of humor. "Probably. Though there are likely other reasons he's never told me, and I don't want to know." He was tense, so Bronx brought Monty's hand up to his mouth and pressed his lips to his knuckles. Monty shot him a smile full of love and relief before he went on. "I don't think you're a bad person."

"I never protected you."

"That wasn't your job. You're my age, Poppy. You are not my mother. You're not my mother figure. You're someone who is younger and less affluent than him, and whether or not he loved you, he was taking advantage of that. I wasn't expecting you to do anything more than you did."

Poppy was quiet for a long, long while. When she took a breath to speak, Bronx noticed her expression had changed. Not a lot, but with a significance he wasn't expecting to see. "That's not the kind of person I want to be. When someone's being mistreated, I want them to look at me and expect me to be someone they can count on. I don't care what position I'm in. And…and that's why I left. He begged me not to go. He told me he was sorry. He said he'd be better—that he'd do right by you."

"Did he?" Monty asked quietly.

Poppy scoffed. "Yeah, he did. He made me a thousand promises. He said he'd get a reversal so we could have children—so he could do it all over and be a better father." Her voice cracked. "I don't want my children to grow up with a dad who was such a monster to the ones that came before him that they don't speak to him. "

Monty bowed his head. "So he knows."

"He knows," Poppy said.

Bronx tugged on Monty's fingers. "Knows what?"

Monty turned to meet his gaze. "That I'm done with him. I severed all ties, and I blocked his number a few days ago. I sent him an email saying that if he sets foot on my property or on yours, I would drag him to court. That I would air out all his dirty laundry, even if it didn't win me the case against him. I would publicly humiliate him with the truth."

"So he couldn't get you for slander," Poppy finished softly.

Monty took in a deep breath and let it out in a slow exhale. "I didn't give him the chance to respond. I figured he didn't care."

"He didn't, until he saw me packing," Poppy told him. "I ended up leaving without my things when he started panicking. Once I find a place, I'll go back for them."

"We can help," Monty said. "I…I don't want to be involved, but Bronx and I have friends who will help."

Poppy hugged her knees a little tighter. "I don't mean to sound, like, sexist or whatever, but I don't think I can stand to be around a bunch of men right now."

Dani , Bronx thought with a small grin. "Don't worry, we can help with that too."

Monty detached his hand from Bronx and stood up. "I'll be right back. Don't move."

Bronx wanted to go with him, but he knew Monty probably needed the moment to himself. As much as he believed Poppy that she wasn't trying to disrupt lives, she had. All of this had thrown Monty, and Bronx knew it was going to take a while for him to find his peace again.

But he would be patient. He would be here, for as long as Monty needed him, and nearby for when Monty didn't.

"He's lucky to have you," Poppy said, breaking the silence.

Bronx chuckled. "I think you got that backwards."

"No, I don't. I'm well aware of what a good person Monty is, but that doesn't mean he's not lucky. Or maybe it was fate that he found you. Whatever the case, I hope it happens to me someday. I have a lot to work on, but you two give me hope."

Bronx wanted to tell her she might need to change the sort of man she went after because he had a feeling Rod wasn't as charming or clever as Poppy made him out to be. In his experience, red flags were always obvious. But sometimes it was easier to pretend they were all shades of grey.

The glass had shattered for her though. He could see that. She had the same look he did when he realized that Jules was always going to be the same man, and no amount of love and support would ever change that. It helped that Bronx hadn't been in love with Jules when that realization hit him, but he could see the look on Poppy's face.

She was heartbroken. She was in love, but there was nothing she could do to make it work.

Bronx wanted to hug her, but she'd made it clear that wouldn't be welcome.

"This is for you." Bronx startled at the sound of Monty's voice. His footsteps were heavy on the patio, and then he appeared in Bronx's eyeline. Leaning over, he set something down on the little table. A wad of cash folded inside a money clip.

"Montez…"

"The one thing my mother taught me was to put together a panic fund. Her version of it was draining my father's accounts and going on a trip. My version of it has been taking out twenty dollars here and there—every time I want something I don't need. This is a fraction of what I have put away, but it's enough to get you a week in a hotel that won't have bed bugs and to feed yourself all the comfort food I know you're going to want once the shock wears off."

Her fingers trembled as she reached for it. She touched the money clip, but she didn't take it. "I don't know when I'll be able to pay it back. I have some savings, but it's just enough to get me a little apartment somewhere."

"As long as you don't go back to him, it's a gift. Consider this a last fuck-you to Rodrigo because I know damn well he's going to do everything in his power to win you back."

"Unless he can invent a time machine to go into the past and become a decent person, I can't imagine anything he could say to change my mind."

Bronx didn't point out that too many people went back once they realized being lonely was hard and it was painful. He wanted to have hope for her. He needed to have hope for her. He watched as she tucked the money away, then stood up and pulled her sweater sleeves over her fingers.

"I really don't think he's coming here. I doubt he would have even looked for me here. But I'm keeping my number on as long as I can, so if something goes wrong, call me."

Monty nodded, but Bronx could see it on his face that he had no intention of calling her again. Even if she stuck around, he didn't think she and Monty were ever going to be friends. No matter how much distance she put between herself and Rod, it would hit too close to home.

As it was, Monty didn't show her out. He stayed rooted to Bronx's side, one hand on his shoulder, gaze fixed out into the dark distance. They sat in silence until Bronx heard her car start up and pull away, and then he stood, taking Monty into his arms.

"What can I do?"

"Hold me," Monty said. He swallowed thickly, then looked around. "No Lucas?"

"He's on a date," Bronx said, and when Monty's brows flew up, Bronx laughed. "I'll tell you all about it later. But he said he'll be by after, so if you want to get loud?—"

"I want to get under the covers and bury my face in your beautiful pecs and not think about anything until tomorrow." Monty grabbed him with both hands, squeezing his chest for good measure.

Bronx laughed and tipped Monty's face up, kissing him thoroughly. "Go get comfy. I'm right behind you."

And he was, in more ways than one, and he would always, always mean that.

For the rest of their lives.