Mr. Grayson: Billionaires’ Club Book 4 (Billionaires’ Club Series)

Of all the crazy shit I’d done in my life, this was going to top them all. Out of sheer frustration, exhaustion, and wanting to feel fucking normal again, I’d decided to take Elena’s advice and try a specialized form of therapy. Regression therapy.

I had no idea what to think and no reason to believe it would help me, but I was at a loss for how to help myself at this point. I’d gone through therapy after my grandfather moved me in with him, but this was different. This was hypnosis and regressing into my past, something that would’ve ordinarily scared the shit out of me. The truth was that I didn’t think whatever this was would work for me. This type of shit was for damaged people who were in desperate need of resolution—people who were willing to believe anything just to make themselves feel better. I couldn’t have been any farther from that.

If this hypnotist could crack open my walnut and uncover whatever childhood traumas were hidden there, more power to her. I was skeptical as fuck, but I was willing to try.

“I need you to let it all go,” the woman’s soothing voice advised me. “You’re not relaxing enough.”

Sorry, lady. After seven weeks of nightmares, no sleep, and knowing that Bree’s aunt filled her in on enough dirty details to make Elena beg me to do this, good luck getting me to relax, I thought since that’s all I did these days. Fucking think to myself and rarely speak a word to anyone.

Fuck. Relax, Alex.

I didn’t know how long it took or what the fuck this woman’s monotonous voice did to me, but suddenly, I was a robot and hearing myself answer this woman without trying to think. It was strange how I was aware of my surroundings and even stranger when I heard myself admit that I was in love with Breanne Stone.

“Tell me what made you love a woman who you say you shouldn’t have loved,” the woman asked.

“She amused me and intrigued me. She made me feel lighter somehow. I love her smile. The way she tried to hide things from me.” I laughed out loud, seeing Breanne in that apartment again, knowing she was broke and still taken by her in ways not even this therapist could pull out of me. “I was there to help her, and I wanted to. By that point, I wanted to take care of her. I wanted to love her, but I was afraid of that.”

“You say you were afraid. Why would you be afraid of loving her?”

“I would hurt her. I didn’t know how to love anything. I wanted to help her and never hurt her.”

Suddenly, I saw the younger version of my father flash in my mind’s eye.

“You are a piece of shit. You know that, boy? I hope you know you’re an evil little spawn. You think you love your baby sister? Answer me, fucker!”

My stomach tightened, and I almost threw up when I felt him land a punch to my gut.

I suddenly thought about my sister. I saw her now; she was just a baby. I saw her button nose and mom crying as she held her, but baby Jen slept while my dad ran around with a beer can in his hand, hollering about how much he hated me.

“I can’t love. I couldn’t love my newborn sister,” I said, confused and stuck in this weird memory—one foot in the memory and one foot out to where I could hear this therapy lady talking.

“Do you feel like you can’t love her? Are you angry your newborn sister is in your life?”

“I love her,” I answered without a second thought. “My dad says I can’t. My dad hates for me to be around her.”

“Do you know why?” the lady questioned. “I need you to relax more, Alex. I need you to go back. You do love your sister. Your dad hates that you’re around her. Your mind knows this answer. Search.”

Fucking searching, I thought in frustration, nauseated I was seeing the scene replay in my mind. Poor Jen. She never had a chance to know I loved her, and that bastard made sure of it.

Oh, my fucking God. Albert.

I saw my brother. I felt lighter and so unbelievably happy, running with him while we held our kites and they chased us. His hair was darker than mine, but his green eyes, his nose, and everything else was a mirror image. Albert and I were identical in everything. We laughed the same, and we both fell at the same time when we ran too fast for our kites to stay in the air.

Albert was crying, but I wasn’t. I wasn’t hurt, but I felt so bad that Albert was. I got to my feet fast. I didn’t care about my kite crashing. I cared about Albert holding his knee. It was bleeding, and his elbow was bruised the same way. He’d tripped into a fallen tree, and I had to help my brother.

“Albert, it’s okay,” I said out loud what’d I’d said in my memory. “I love you.” I thought the words would help him stop hurting. I held him and kissed the top of my brother’s head, praying my dad wouldn’t find out my brother was hurt or he would hurt us both worse.

We drove him wildly mad, two wild boys who were too rambunctious.

“Don’t tell dad,” Albert told me. “He’ll hit us both. We broke our kites.” I spoke our dialog aloud for some reason, and I didn’t know if it was because of the hypnosis or not, but I couldn’t stop myself. “I hate him, Alex. He hurts all of us.”

I rubbed his head and smiled at my scared twin brother. “I’ll protect you from him,” I said, and Albert smiled. This felt as real to me now as the moment it happened—like it was happening all over again. I’d forgotten about this. “Albert, don’t be afraid. I’ll protect all of us from him. I’m tough, ya know?”

“What did Albert say when you said you would protect all of your family from him?”

The therapist’s voice was more distant the deeper I became entrenched in this memory.

“Albert hugged me,” I answered her. “He trusted me, I think.”

My thoughts changed when the therapist spouted off some verbal command that my mind seemed to be controlled by.

“Where are you now?” she asked.

“I’m camping. Albert and I are in an old rowboat, and Albert is afraid. I don’t know why he’s scared, but my dad is with us,” I answered her.

The memory jarred me so hard that I felt as ill as I was when I felt my father punch me in the stomach in the other memory.

“Albert,” my dad said, “you’re gonna learn how to swim.” The words were slurred, and Albert was terrified when he looked at me. “We’re not fishin’ unless you jump out of this boat and learn how to swim.”

I stood between my dad and Albert, defending my brother from Paul’s drunken threats. He took his hand and shoved me so hard that I staggered back, tripping over the bench seat and into my brother. My dad stumbled and fell against the beer cooler, passing out immediately. I thought he was dead. In fear, I panicked and jumped up. I didn’t know what to do. I turned back to tell Albert we would have to try and get the boat to shore, but Albert was in the water, splashing and screaming. My dad had shoved me so hard that it knocked Albert overboard. It’d all happened almost simultaneously.

I reached for Albert, but I was too late. Albert was screaming, water was splashing, and all I saw were his frightened eyes, and then he disappeared deep into the water.

“Albert! Albert! Dad,” I turned to the passed-out man, “wake up! Albert fell in the water!” I slapped my dad hard on the face to get his attention. Why wasn’t he waking up? How could he have lost consciousness so fast? Why couldn’t he hear Albert’s screams?

“Where are you, Alex? I need you to talk to me,” the lady’s voice came into my panicked thoughts.

“I have to save Albert. I think I accidentally bumped into him, and he fell out of the boat. I can’t save him. I can’t find him in the water. I’m in the water now. I was never afraid to swim. I knew how but Albert didn’t. My dad hated that Albert was weak. I tipped the boat back and forth and finally thought to start splashing water on my dad after I was too tired to swim and couldn’t get into the boat to wake him up. I don’t know how long Albert was in the water.”

“What happened next?”

“My dad finally wakes up, and he pulls me into the boat. I’d been holding onto the side the whole time. He shouted and asked where Albert was. I tell him everything, and he says he has to call the cops. They will find Albert. I’m relieved when he says that they’ll find Albert because that means he’ll be okay.”

“Did they find Albert?”

“Dad said that when we get home, I’m not to tell anyone that he fell asleep. Albert won’t be coming home because I killed him and pushed him out of the boat.”

“Did that make sense to you?”

“It still doesn’t. Why did they believe it?”

“What else did your dad tell you? What did your mom say?”

“My mom cried uncontrollably. She cried so hard I thought she stopped breathing, but then she told me she loved me. My dad dragged me out of her arms then and told her she could never touch or hug me again. I’d killed her son, and there was nothing he could do to stop her wild boys from eventually killing each other. The cops would come to the house, and even though I’d killed Albert, we had to say that Albert fell off the dock when Dad and I were fishing. That he drowned by accident.”

“Did the cops talk to you?”

“Yes. I told them it was an accident. I said everything my dad told me to tell them because I knew he would kill me if I didn’t.”

“And did the officer get mad at you?”

“The cop hugged me and said he was sorry but to be strong for my family,” I answered her. “The cop was sad and hugged me again. After he left, my dad pulled us into the room and told my sister Jane and my mom that I’d killed my brother because I was a monster. He said the only reason he wouldn’t let the cops take me was that he knew that would make mom sad to lose both of her sons.”

“What did your mother say?”

“She just cried. For days and days, she cried. It felt like forever.”

“Did they find Albert?”

“They did. I went to see him in a white casket. He was asleep, and he didn’t have to worry about Dad waking him to hurt him because people were in the room. Dad wouldn’t smack his face to wake him up because he didn’t do that when people were around.”

“Did you know Albert was dead?”

“I didn’t want him in the ground,” I answered. “I begged my mom to keep him safe in the casket. We could take him home in the box, and I could still be with him. He might look like he was sleeping, but I could see him whenever I wanted. I just wanted to take him home with me. I couldn’t live without him.” My mind shifted and snapped out of this lucid memory. I was thrust into the present, lying on this couch drenched in sweat, panting as if I’d run a mile. “Fuck! Oh, my God. That drunk mother fucker did it.” I sat up, pulling myself out of the trance, and rubbed my face as if I’d just woken up from another night terror. “He blamed me so he wouldn’t go to fucking jail?”

“Alex, I need you to try and calm down some,” the lady said. “Please, you’ve broken out of your hypnosis, and I need to pull you from it safely. While we go back under, we’re going to help you cope with Albert’s death and deal with your emotions about your father.”

“I hope to hell this works because if it doesn’t, I might lose my mind.”

“That’s why we must have you come out in a healthy way, and we’ll remove any emotional feelings you may have about your father.”

“He made me believe all these years that I killed Albert, but I saw it, and I remember it all so damn vividly that I know that wasn’t true. What kind of evil bastard does that to a son who loved his brother like I loved mine?”

“We need to get you to cope with Albert. Accept his death, and we’ll continue to work from there,” she said. “Lay back and let us work on these issues, or your psyche can be further damaged after these memories have surfaced.”

I focused on her words, let them relax my mind, and now, we were on the path of moving forward past all of this, most of all, carrying no more emotions for my father. That man would mean nothing to me when all of this was over, but I would know the truth, and I would find peace. My father wouldn’t even rot in jail for this. It was all brought about by hypnotherapy, and whatever I would say about that fucker wouldn’t be admissible in a court of law, but the longer my hypnosis session went, the less I cared.

The love I felt for Albert was overwhelming. I hadn’t felt that type of love since I’d lost my brother, but I felt that with Breanne. I felt it so sincerely that it was bizarre to accept at times. I could never lose her like I lost Albert. That wouldn’t be fair to me. I deserved to have her and to have that unconditional love.

I knew Albert was at peace, and I needed Bree in my arms. I wanted the love I felt with her, and I craved it—I craved her and missed her so damn much that it was almost like a knife stabbing me in my heart. I couldn’t go another second without calling for the plane and getting her back in my life.

Thank God, Jim was here, having flown out after Elena spoke to all of us about what Breanne’s aunt found. If I couldn’t have Bree right now, I would take the next best thing—a best friend. A brother who was there for me no matter what happened with all of this therapeutic shit.

I had one more session, and then I would get back to the states and find a way to make everything right with Bree. Today was break-through day, and I felt like a burden was lifted. The hell hounds were gone, and my tortured life was in the past where it all belonged and would remain.

Sadly, my mother never got this chance. She was too afraid to leave with Jen. She thought they would be safe, and she begged my grandfather to make sure I grew up right and became the man she always knew I could be. How fucked up was it that an abuser could hold people hostage just like that miserable prick did to everyone in my family?

I broke the chains on that bastard’s mental control and manipulations, and I was ready to finish it and get my mind healthy again.

I’d been back in the states for close to two days now, and I had to slow my roll on getting Bree back. I wanted to do this right because I knew it was total bullshit on my end—fighting demons of the past or not—with how I left her hanging.

Strange that the final piece to the heal Alex therapy puzzle was for me to find love with the woman who my mind, body, and soul craved. Breanne and I had started peculiarly. Who knew I had already fallen for her the night we first met when she begged me to be her fake fiancé? As time rolled forward, I found myself captivated with her as she tried her hardest to fix that Sphere job. I was taken by her. She had such a creative personality, and she was a woman who powered through situations, not giving a damn what people thought of her.

Then the physical aspects of her quickly charmed my hungry eyes, but I’d been down the road before of being fortunate enough to have my way effortlessly with beautiful women. So, I steadied my course on falling for Breanne Stone, believing at the time it was all shallow. Though, my heart knew more than my mind could’ve comprehended, and that’s why I allowed her in. Although we didn’t have time to allow for a relationship to fully mature, we found a way to accept our deeper feelings and hang onto us.

If it weren’t for my internal battles, constantly trying to reassure myself it was normal to feel something like this for a woman—even though it was the first time I’d felt more between myself and someone else—I could have seen us on a much better path. That’s what I planned on now, starting over and taking the only woman I’d ever loved the right way—finding the proper way to get her back. Thank God Elena had told me that Bree felt nothing but sorrow for my situation after her aunt downloaded my past onto her. There was still hope that I could get her back, and this time, she would be loved without reservation on my end.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

My phone was blowing up in my pocket while we hung at Jim’s house for the night. Tonight, I mostly talked about my plans for getting Bree back, and I was thankful my friends could pull off a quick weekend trip with me. All I needed now was to pray Bree’s friends would work with me in joining all of us as well.

Buzz! Buzz! Buzz!

“Are you going to answer that, or are you some sick fuck who gets off with his vibrating phone while having a beer with his friends?” Cameron asked, hanging back with me while the guys were in the pool, having a night game of water polo against the girls.

The older kids slept in the theater room, which was transformed to make sleepovers much more enticing. The babies, of course, were sound asleep upstairs in the playroom that Jim and Avery had Breanne design, which looked like some Chuck E. Cheese version of a nursery.

I finally pulled my phone out of my pocket to see who had been blowing me up at ten in the evening. “What the fuck does my sister Jenny want?” I asked, looking over at Brandt as if he had the answer to that dumbass question.

“Who knows? Maybe she found out the truth that her brother’s more of a lover than a hater?” Cameron rose. “I’m out of here.” He looked at the pool. “Some of us doctors work for a fucking living.” He took a ball that he’d brought out of the pool after he smoked everyone in the last game of water polo when it was just the guys, and then he threw it directly at Collin’s head.

Collin’s reflexes were as stealthy as Brandt’s, and he managed to snatch the ball. “Hey, I have to be in at six in the morning, and I guess I’m not a little bitch like you are. I can stay up late and still get up in the morning,” Collin said.

“Funny, asshole. Do you have surgery first thing?” he laughed while pulling on his shirt. “Because I do.”

“You win. Go home and rest up,” Collin said, then took a ball to the head sent from Jake across the net.

While my friends fucked around, I studied Jen’s name on my phone and her eight missed calls. Strange how I didn’t feel high or low about my younger sister. I felt that if she wanted a relationship with me and could accept the truth of the good man I was, I’d be happily open to that. If she were still stuck in Paul O’Connor’s horror show, that would be the end of that. We were blood, yes, but that was the only thing we had in common for now.

“See ya, Brandt,” I said as I tapped on Jen’s name and dialed her back.

“Alexander?” she answered in a sad, breathless voice. “Alex?”

“I’m here. What’s going on?” I spoke. “You’ve tried eight times to call me, and unless mom—”

“Please, just shut up,” she snapped.

“Listen, you blew my phone up, not the other way around. What can I help you with?”

“They found dad tonight. He’s dead, Alex. Gone,” she sniffed and cried out a painful moan. “I know he was hateful to you, but he was your father.”

“Biologically, yes,” I answered her, noting that she was much sadder on this call than she was when she called to tell me our mother had died. She wasn’t even sad when she told me about Mom, but now, she sounded like her world had crashed in on her with Paul gone. “That’s all he was and ever will be to me.”

It was unbelievably liberating not to care whether the man was alive or dead. I’d resolved to let the man go during hypnotherapy, and it was the healthiest thing I could do in moving forward. The man who deserved my respect as a father was my grandfather, and that’s how it would remain.

“I know you hated him,” she sniffed, “but…”

I could hear that she was drunk. Paul had ruined her. I would gladly help pull her out of the pit he’d thrown all of his kids into, but that would require her wanting to be helped. If there was one thing I knew, it was that you couldn’t help people who didn’t want it. It pained me to know she was his victim, and it reminded me of so many people out there who were messed up because of men like Paul O’Connor. Thank God the woman I loved had gone on a wild mission to create centers for victims—a center that I would’ve gone to if the help I’d gotten in London didn’t work.

“Jen, you’re drunk. Call me when your mind is clear.”

“We need money for his funeral. You want to know why he took his own life?”

“No, but I’m sure you’ll tell me,” I answered.

“Because of you. You ruined everything. You were the reason mom died too.”

“I’d love to sit here and take the heat for these accusations, but I won’t. If you’re calling to blame me for one of the many horrible and selfish things Paul O’Connor has done in his life, then you dialed the wrong person.”

“Selfish?” Her voice sobered up some. “How is what he did selfish?”

“I’m not talking about anyone but Paul in this scenario. I can say that very few things Paul has ever done were unselfish, and this is no exception. He was a miserable, horrible man.”

“It’s your fault.”

“Think whatever you want. Is this why you called me, to blame me for that man killing himself? It seems to me that mom was an anchor for him, and he lost that. He was a man who somehow managed to keep her through all of that abuse. He lost control when she died, and I’m sure it’s pretty lonely for an abuser when they have no one left to hurt.”

“You’re a…” she paused. “Forget it. Listen, you owe this family. So, I’m calling for money to bury my daddy.”

I pinched my lips together and studied the gang getting out of the pool, my elbows on my knees while I leaned forward, trying to process the fact that I knew Jen was only calling me for money. A sad ending to this entire family’s story.

“There are charity funds available. I suggest you look at them. I will not fund his burial. He was no father to me. I’m sorry if this is an inconvenience to you, but if you can’t understand why your dad would never call me to bury him, that’s on you. Even if hell had cell phone service and he could get through to me from below, I would be the very last person he’d call for money even for his funeral.”

“You’re pathetic. You paid for Mom’s funeral.”

“That was our grandfather’s wish, and unlike Paul, I loved her. I loved you too, Jen. Paul would never allow you to believe that, though. I’m sorry he ruined our family.”

“You ruined all of us. We don’t need your money!”

The phone line went dead while I inhaled and stared at my friends.

“Did I hear you correctly on that call?” Jim asked.

“Yes. Paul’s gone. He took his own life.”

“Good God,” Elena said. “How do you feel about that?”

I smirked at her. “Are we going into immediate therapy sessions every time a family member calls me and begs for money?”

“I’m serious, Alex. You’re fresh out of therapy. We all agreed to go with you on these plans that you have to get back with Breanne. I never agreed to you waiting an entire week, but whatever. Now, you find out that Paul has killed himself? I have to know if this is bothering you.”

“Truthfully?”

“Yes,” everyone practically sang in unison.

I rolled my eyes and stood. “I don’t feel anything. He’s gone. He was a miserable man, and he died. If I had a relationship with him, I probably would’ve been there while he grieved his wife, but we all know the truth of my relationship with Paul O’Connor. There was none. I guess what I’m trying to say is, I’m sorry for those he left behind that this death will bring pain to.”

“So, you’re not relieved, sad, feeling guilty?” Elena asked.

“No, Dr. Brooks,” I teased her. “But,” I arched an eyebrow and gave her a crazy expression, “if you keep putting those things in my head, you might reverse the witchery that fixed my brain.”

“You’re such a dumbass,” Avery said, walking over in her towel and hugging me. “I’m happy this isn’t hurting you. It’s so wonderful to have you feeling happy.”

I leaned into her side hug. “Me too. Now,” I eyed the group and then smiled, “if you are all worried about anything, it should be the fact that I need to get Bree’s friends on board for my idea. I didn’t spend almost a hundred thousand bucks on a ring for nothing.”

Ash smiled. “She’s going to be blown away. You do your part, and we girls will do ours. Saturday can’t come fast enough.”

“Does she know that this birthday outing is all your ladies’ planning?”

“Yes, and you’re welcome in advance,” Elena smiled. “Given that we’re all friends, it looks like Nat and Cass will gladly join us in Branson. Nat said to make sure there’s good booze on the plane ride, though. She hates flying.”

“She won’t even know she’s on a goddamn plane in that company jet,” I grinned and wiggled my eyebrows. “Now to get into character, role play, and get my girl back in my arms.”

“Such a romantic,” Jake smirked, taking a beer from the outdoor fridge. “I can’t wait to either live or die on this thing.”

“You got the time off?” I chuckled. “Dude, your stupid ass kills me.”

“We all did, dip-fuck,” Collin chimed in. “None of us will miss this special moment. We’re there, man.”

“Well, let’s hope I can run a tight game, and somehow, this all works.”