Chapter 50

"That's it. Get your sorry ass dressed and we're taking you out. You've been at this for the entire day, and you look like a fucking mountain man."

Rex tosses a towel at me as I throw punch after punch at the heavy bag in the boxing gym inside The Orchid. He and Ethan are standing at the sides of the padded mat, staring at me with concern.

It's either this or holing myself up in my apartment and thinking about her.

Which I have. Almost non-stop for the last few weeks, and I realize the pain isn't going away. I miss her with every atom in my body, every ounce of my soul. The pain festers and spirals in the middle of the night as my mind is filled with images of the sweet woman with the softest kiss and keenest eyes. The woman who loves every inch of my corrupted soul.

I've tossed and turned in my bed each night, desperately trying, and failing, to fall asleep. Whenever I manage to doze off, I'll wake up with my face always buried in the pillow she slept on, my lungs trying to breathe in a whiff of her jasmine, but the scent is fading by the day, the once warm bed is now another lonely, cold prison for me.

My family has visited. Steven and Charles have attempted to knock some sense into me, saying Millie wouldn't want to see me like this. Lana has taken over cooking meals for me, saying a home-cooked meal from a loved one is always better than food from Michelin restaurants or meals prepared by my personal chef, because it contains her love for me.

After being placed on administrative leave, Jacob has left me multiple messages on my phone that I haven't listened to. I've taken time off from Fleur. The less attention I draw to the company, the better right now. From what I know, there is a temporary pause on the IPO because of the scandal, but my family is working to get it back on track.

My mind drifts to the tenured professorship, another beautiful dream now vanished into thin air and the loss feels visceral, like my arm being carved out from my body. Emails ping incessantly from my laptop, but I haven't had the fortitude to go through them.

And Millie—I see her texts and missed calls and each time, I have to fight every impulse to call her back. Because I know if I do, I'll succumb to my desires once more. Because my soul needs her more than anything. As if I haven't caused enough damage to her already.

I've asked Grace to keep an eye on her for me, to make sure she's all right. I've also requested one of the men from our security team to look after her from afar in case the press gets rowdy.

But I need to stay away.

I've tried hiding my sorrows from everyone, but the pain and remorse are relentless, a strong riptide carrying me back into the turbulent seas. I've created a mess my family has to deal with now, and it's all because I didn't have better self-control.

No one would've been hurt if you had just stayed away, Ryland. You're undeserving of the people you love.

And so, since eight this morning, I've been at the gym, hitting the punching bag in front of me like it's my worst enemy.

Like it's myself.

After taking off and tossing my black boxing gloves to the ground, I towel off the rivulets of sweat dripping down my face. I'm sure I look like a disaster with my beard untrimmed and untamed, my skin fucking pale because I haven't stepped into the sun in the last two weeks.

But I can't bring myself to care.

Wincing, I slowly unfurl the hand wraps, revealing blistering red knuckles, swollen to almost twice their normal size.

"Shit, Ryland. Why are you doing this to yourself?" Ethan murmurs, eyeing the sores on my hands as we walk toward the locker room. "Come on, it's the press. They're ridiculous. That's nothing new. We'll weather this. We're the Andersons. A little tarnish on our name won't hurt us. It's not your fault."

Loathing. Hatred. Guilt. Anger. Worry.

And pain. So much fucking pain.

The storm never ends.

"I'm a fuck-up. If it weren't for me, everything would go along fine. Our reputation, our legacy…everything is now at risk because of my selfishness. I don't deserve you guys or the family and grandfather is probably rolling in his grave."

"Bullshit!" Rex retorts, "That's fucking bullshit right there. I get it, I really do. The pressures of being part of this family is enough to drive anyone crazy sometimes. Maintaining the stiff upper lip and upholding our family name. You've tried your best, but you're human too. Everyone is allowed some mistakes."

He points to himself. "I'm the family fuck-up, and you can't take that title away from me, B."

With that parting comment, he pushes me into a shower stall and turns the water into the temperature of the Arctic. "Now get your ass cleaned up and come back out. We're taking you somewhere."

Half an hour later, Ethan pushes me into the backseat of his SUV and even tries to fasten my seatbelt for me. The damn guy acts like he's a suburban dad when he's the youngest male of our family. Rex gets into the front passenger seat as Ethan starts the car and exits the underground parking garage.

"Where are you guys taking me?" I place my forehead on the cool window, watching the golds and reds of streetlights and taillights streak past me.

"Floyd Bennett Field. There's a race tonight and Maxwell and the other guys are meeting us there," Ethan responds.

"You sure you want me behind a wheel tonight?" I snort.

"For Christ's sake, you aren't going to drive. Not over my dead body," Rex retorts, his eyes meeting mine when he twists over in his seat and glares at me. "We at least have to get you out of the building, B. Small steps. I hate to see you like this."

I don't respond. I just stare into the night and watch the wind swaying the trees, my eyes eventually closing as I drift off into an uneasy sleep where I'm running in the endless fields, the breeze caressing my face, a sweet voice laughing in front of me, a flutter of long brown strands in my peripheral vision.

"Wake up, we're here."

Rex shakes me in what feels like a few minutes later, but I know time must have elapsed as I hear the loud cheers from the crowds gathered at the abandoned airfield outside.

The smell of burned rubber is acrid as flashy cars swivel onto the large stretch of land then screech to a stop at the end of the airstrip.

Girls in short leather skirts and even skimpier tops, like it's the middle of summer as opposed to the beginning of spring, wave around flags as people rush toward the drivers getting out of their cars.

I can smell the excitement, the fear, the adrenaline in the air, but I can't feel an iota of…anything.

Following my brothers toward the vehicles, I ignore the hollers of the crowd, who no doubt recognize me even though I look like a caveman with my facial hair and T-shirt and jeans attire.

Maxwell's familiar silhouette steps out of the winning car and is met with shrieks and cheers. He's walking in our direction with the swagger of someone who has just won the street race we organize quarterly for other rich people who have no care for their lives. There's a sharpness in his eyes as they sweep through the crowd and land on the three of us.

A muscle twitches in his jaw, and he quickens his strides. I see the black-haired, tall silhouette of Steven and the unmistakable blond hair from Charles right behind him.

He reaches me a few seconds later.

"Good. You came out." Maxwell cracks his knuckles.

Smack.

His fist flies to my face, knocking the air out of my lungs, and my vision swirls.

"Maxwell!" Steven gasps in horror and he leaps forward to hold back my twin, who looks like he wants to follow that punch with another hook.

"Your painting hand!" Ethan's eyes widen in shock as Maxwell shakes out his right hand, which he's usually careful with because the man loves his art.

"What the fuck, dude? You said to bring him out so he can get some fresh air, not to beat the shit out of him," Rex yells.

The sharp pain spirals from my jaw to the rest of my body, and I heave in mouthfuls of oxygen. The black dots clear from my eyes. I wipe my mouth and find my hand streaked with blood from a cut on my lip.

"Keep them coming." I motion to Maxwell. I deserve it.

His eyes flash, and he shucks off his leather jacket in a swift motion. The crowd is converging on us now; some folks with their cell phones held high.

"If any of you dares to film anything, your membership to The Orchid will be revoked and you'll be looking over your shoulder for the rest of your life," Ethan growls and hulks toward the nosy interlopers. "Now get out of here. There's nothing to see."

"I'm standing here, Maxwell. I won't fight back."

Maxwell charges me and slams into my chest, knocking me onto the pavement. He straddles my torso and rains his fists on my chest, each jab and hook hitting directly on target.

My body flinches at each punch, the pain sending tears to my eyes, but my body and mind must have disconnected, because I find the strangest urge to laugh.

Delirious chuckles rip from my lips as I flinch under him, my hands not blocking his assault.

"Fuck. You guys, stop it. What are you, fifteen? This doesn't solve anything," Charles hollers while prying a furious Maxwell off me.

Maxwell shakes Charles off, stalks back, and stands over me, his penetrating eyes boring into mine.

He shakes his head in derision. "You know, Ryland, I'm not upset you fell in love with a woman. Someone who happens to be a student. I'm actually fucking happy for you, because you get to do something I want to do but can't!" His eyes are wild, his chest stretching the confines of his black T-shirt.

He spits on the ground and continues, "What I'm so fucking disappointed with is how you handled this situation. Instead of facing the problem like a man, you chose to hide. You left the crap for all of us to clean up instead of coming to us for help. You left your woman to deal with the press all by her fucking self! That is not how Anderson men are raised!"

Maxwell leans down, his teeth flashing in a snarl. "We are your family. There's nothing you say that'll make us think anything less of you. Yes, our reputation and the company are important, but nothing is more important than the people in this family."

His nostrils flare, the anger pouring out of him in torrents. "I knew you were going through things. I tried giving you space so you'd come talk to me. I tried pleading with you to tell me what was bothering you. But no, you decided to mope and become this martyr…for what!"

He heaves out a deep breath. "I don't pity you. I've never resented you for being the second-born, never once blamed you for that stupid boar attack. I've always, always wanted you to live your best life, your happiest life because I love you, brother."

Ethan sighs, his hand clasping my shoulder and giving it a quick squeeze, as if to support me.

Maxwell shakes his head. "I had to learn from Grace and Tay how you felt about working at Fleur. How you were suffocating because you hated your job. How you were desperate to be in academia but never had the guts to tell us. And now, with the scandal and the press breathing down our backs, the IPO hanging by a thread, you chose to hide. You're a fucking coward, Ryland Anderson, and I don't feel sorry for you. At. All!"

He leans down and grabs the collar of my shirt. "Do you know the woman you love is suffering too? I've kept tabs on her because she doesn't deserve this anymore than you do. Grace and Tay have been keeping her company. Do you know she cries herself to sleep and yet, she's strong enough to face the whispers, the murmurs, the questions from the press each day? You don't deserve her, Ryland."

I don't. That much is true."I had to leave her, Maxwell. Let the press think I'm the bad guy. Eventually, this will blow over and she can continue with her life and achieve her dreams and—"

"Who the fuck made you the arbiter of her hopes and dreams? Who gave you the right to decide for everyone else?"

His chest heaves from exertion as he stabs his finger at my chest. "When you decide to be a fucking man about all this, come find me. Until then, I'm so extremely disappointed in you."

Without another word, he turns around and stalks back toward the car he exited from.

Rex lets out a low whistle. "Damn. I wouldn't want to be his kid when he becomes a dad later. He's got the whole parental disappointment thing down pat."

My lips twitch in an effort to smile, but everything just hurts like hell.

Steven motions to Maxwell. "I'm going with him to make sure he doesn't do anything stupid." He looks at me. "Ryland, we love you, man. He loves you. I think the stress of the IPO stall has been getting to him. Things will be okay. Hang in there. We'll fix this."

He hurries toward my twin.

I slowly sit up, my head feeling very much like the punching bag from the gym earlier today, an incessant ringing reverberating in my ears.

Be a fucking man. Maxwell's words echo in my mind.

I look at the guys to find Ethan's brows pinched, his lips curving in a small, reassuring smile, Rex pulling at his hair, his devil-may-care attitude nowhere to be seen, Charles letting out a deep sigh and patting me on my shoulder.

They may be disappointed. They may be angry. But they haven't left. The family is still intact. The company is still running without me.

Be a fucking man.