Page 200 of Keeping Kasey
Now, in a moment where I have absolutely no time to spare, I understand the crucial piece of information that I’ve ignored for years.
Damon was just a kid, too.
A kid who wrongly bore the weight of responsibility for our mother’s death, and simply didn’t have the strength to carry anything else.
Damon didn’t hand me the heir role because he didn’t care about our family—he handed it to me because hedid. He always has. He knew the Consolis needed a leader who could give his all, and Damon’sallwas stolen along with our mother.
He trusted me when I was only thirteen to do what he couldn’t.
A million emotions threaten to choke me, and I realize that in going after Kasey, I very well may never come back.
So, I do something I should’ve done a long time ago.
I close the distance between us and pull Damon into a hug for the first time in… maybe ever. He stiffens, every muscle braced like I’m actually about to tackle him—a fair enough response.
“I, uh—what’s happening?” he asks, even as he relaxes and apprehensively returns the gesture.
“Thank you,” I tell him, straining to speak past the lump in my throat.
“For telling James to cover for the day?”
I shake my head, step back, and settle one hand on his shoulder. “For getting sober. Forstayingsober. And for trusting me to do this, when we both know you would’ve done a damn good job.”
Tentative confusion melts to a warm understanding. When Damon swallows hard, I know he’s just as uncomfortable with the emotions as I am.
That helps.
He curls his lips with a slight wince. “Is this a bad time to admit I thought I was tellingJamesto be the heir?”
I roll my eyes and shove his shoulder as I move to the door—I don’t have any more time to waste.
Leon was explicit in his instructions, but I take the risk anyway.
“Why don’t you bring everyone to the hotel tonight for drinks around eight? We can have a do-over for dinner at the manor.”
He smiles. “Sounds like a plan.”
“I’ll see you tonight,” I say, and hope like hell it’s true.
I get to my car as fast as I can without drawing suspicion, but the second the car is on, I fly out of the garage. According to the GPS, I’m only forty minutes away, but I’m determined to cut the time in half. It helps to know I have every police precinct in my pocket, at least for getting out of something as trivial as a speeding ticket.
The entire drive, all I can do is alternate between picturing Kasey hurt and imagining her with a swollen stomach, ready to have our child.
I knew I needed heirs, but that was always the extent of my desire for children. I need a strong line of succession to stay in power. More players for the chessboard, just like my brothers and I were for our father.
But a child that is half me and half Kasey?
That is a human who will be cherished, loved, and wanted for no other reason than that they aremy child.
It makes me wonder—just for a moment—what life would’ve been like if our father loved our mother. Would Damon have fallen into alcoholism? Would Mason have betrayed us? Would Elise have grown up with us instead of on her own?
I never realized I wanted Kasey to be the mother of my children until I saw the ultrasound with her name on it. It’s not just the idea ofachild, either. It’sKasey’schild.
Ourchild.
She’s it for me—she always has been.
The coordinates lead to an abandoned white truck on the side of the road, and I pull up behind it. The roads are a disaster. The snow is coming down hard now, and no one else is out here because only an idiot would voluntarily drive in this.
