Page 57 of Hush Money
“I feel like a selfish bastard because my first thought was, ‘I can’t do this.’ Imagine that. Imagine the bullshit they’ve been through because of my father, and my first instinct is to bitch about having to hear about it.”
I take his hand and lead him toward the giant window seat.
“Keat,” I tell him, holding his hand, “it’s okay that you don’t want to hear about it. You didn’t do this. Cato did. And he is the one who should be bearing the brunt of this. But since it can’t be him yet, you and Julian…you don’t know how freeing this could be for these women. Just feeling like someone gives a shit—someone who can actually do something about it. I love you for that, Keat. I hate that you’re going through this, but I love that you are that someone for them. Just like you always have been with me.”
He looks up at me, raising an eyebrow.
Then his lips curl up into that smile that makes me squeeze my legs together.
“Did you just tell me you love me, Dawson?” he asks.
I roll my lips together, butterflies zooming around my stomach. He leans back against the window, our fingers still interlocked. The old Evie would second-guess it. She would worry about how it may be taken. That she was coming on too strong, that she was too much, that she didn’t deserve to get to share how she felt.
But not this Evie.
NothisEvie.
I stand up and step between his knees. I take his face in my hands, looking down at him and stroking his cheeks with my thumbs as I stare into those gray eyes.
“Yeah,” I whisper, “I said that I love you, Keaton. Because I do. You are so, so loved. And when this is all over, if we need to go live in an apartment like Nanny’s, I’d happily share a twin bed with you every day…as long as it’s you. You deserve so much love, Keat. And I’m going to give it to you.”
He smiles up at me, and I see his eyes getting glassy.
Oh, god.
I don’t know if I can handle a crying Keaton. But he doesn’t break fully. I see him swallow back the tears, reaching one hand up to cup my cheek. He wraps his hand around my head and pulls me down for a long, slow kiss.
“You always gave me love, baby,” he says. “You just didn’t realize it.” He kisses me again, long and hard. I curl up against him on the seat, and it feels so fucking good. It feels like everything I went through with Tanner, and my family, all the love I was missing, was worth going through for just this tiny moment right here and any others that I get to have with him. The way he looks at me. The little smiles he is constantly flashing in my direction. The way he thinks about my every move. The way he cherishes the time we spend together.
Like he adores me.
Like I don’t have to earn it.
“Eve?” he asks me after a few minutes of blissful silence.
“Hmm?”
“Will you come with me?” he asks. I turn my head up to meet his gaze.
“Of course,” I tell him. I don’t know if I can handle it either, but I know that I’m going to try.
KEATON
Iwish I could have sat there with her in that window seat for hours—days, even. Whenever I’m with her, I find myself wanting more. More time. More laughs. More smiles. More sex.
More of her.
But knowing that this meeting was looming made it feel all the more important…necessary. Like she is my lifeblood.
We’re getting on the elevator to go up to Julian’s penthouse, and my heart is thudding in my ears. I swear I can hear the blood pumping through my veins. I am dreading this. I’m dreading sitting across from this woman and looking her in the eyes, hearing about all of the things my father put her through. Our legal team is here, making sure we don’t “say anything that could lead to us being considered a cooperative party,” which in and of itself makes me want to vomit. They’re also here to discuss the compensation that my brothers and I will be giving them, which also feels so wrong. How do you put a number on something like that?
Our lawyers are still looking into that too, because paying them may be a conflict of interest and hurt the case. And if it’s the last thing I do, I will bring Cato to justice.
The Everett name used to mean something.
It was synonymous with old money. A family who truly realized the American dream. And then a family who shared it. My great-great grandfather bought thousands of acres of land surrounding Bedell House and then gave them away.
My great-grandfather used to take a horse-drawn buggy around the city during the holidays and hand out stacks of cash to as many people as he could. He built affordable housing in the city, libraries, parks. My grandfather used to let us pick out an apartment building on Christmas and walk around, knocking on doors, bringing people money and gifts.
