Too Hard: Hayes Brothers Book 5

IT’S ALMOST FIVE IN THE MORNING before I make my way upstairs after spending two hours answering my brothers’ questions about Blair. Their drilling skills would be an asset in the forces, for sure. Some of the questions they came up with tripped me over big time.

Together with Ana, B disappeared as soon as the band stopped playing.

As much as I wanted to follow, I had to relay the story to the older four like I had to Colt and Conor the night before. At least this time, I wasn’t on the verge of a mental breakdown and it was easier to talk, knowing she was asleep two floors up.

Colt was considerate enough to invite Abby into his room for the night so Ana could sleep in a bed rather than on the loveseat in our room.

I gently push the door open, careful not to wake B, but I step inside to find her sitting on the bed smiling at me, the night lamp bathing the room in a soft, orange glow.

“Why aren’t you sleeping?” I ask, pulling my tie off. “You didn’t have to wait.”

“I thought you’d want to talk, so I stayed up, organizing my head. Are you sober enough to listen?”

Stripping down to my boxers, I climb into bed, resting against the headboard, my heart picking up speed. “I barely had a drink all night, B.” I had more than my share last night and didn’t feel like waking up with another hangover. “I’m sober.”

She makes herself comfortable, sitting cross-legged as she pinches the comforter between her fingers. “Just please… don’t get all worked up, okay?”

“When has a line like that ever calmed someone down, baby?”

She nods solemnly, inhaling deeply as if bracing for something nasty. “That man…” she starts, looking up from picking her nails. “The one who was there when I smashed the glasses, the one I wore the red dresses for, the one who screamed at me… he’s my father.”

“Your father? But he’s… he looks really young.”

“He’s very proud of that fact,” she admits. “He’s forty-two, but that doesn’t really matter. He’s a very greedy man. Money is all he cares about, and—” She pauses, taking yet another deep breath and when she starts talking, my skin fucking crawls.

She tells me about the work she’s been doing for years, about the men she had to flirt with, about those who touched her, and I’m reeling. With every word, my blood boils further. She tells me about every threat her father used to keep her in line, every time she watched her mother hallucinate because the fucker confiscated her meds, every time she surrendered to his orders.

She’s not crying, but her voice breaks like eggshells when she gets to yesterday.

“You know what the worst part is?” she asks quietly, still sitting in the middle of the bed.

I’ve tried to pull her into my arms countless times, but she keeps saying she won’t get the words out if I touch her.

“Everything about this is the fucking worst, B. Jesus…” I get up, too jittery to stay still. “You should’ve told someone, baby. You should’ve told me when I asked, I—”

“I did this to myself,” she whispers, avoiding my gaze. “He called when I was waiting for you in the departure lounge. The things he said… he fleshed out my every insecurity.”

She relays their conversation word for word, then proceeds to tell me about the banquet and Archibald fucking Duke pushing his fingers up her dress.

“He’s a dead man walking, B,” I seethe, shaking all over. “Him and your sorry excuse for a father.” Ignoring her protests, I climb onto the bed, and pull her in, cradling the back of her head, caging her in my arms. “You’re safe with me. I promise I won’t let anyone hurt you ever again.”

“Cody—”

“No, don’t even start telling me you deserved any of it!”

“It’s not that,” she whispers, moving away. “You made me realize I couldn’t keep punishing myself. I don’t want to dig over the past. I want to look forward, and that means letting go of everything I’ve done, and everything those men did to me.”

“They should all rot in fucking jail, Blair.”

“Maybe, but neither they nor my father are worth our time. I told him I’m done. I told him I don’t care about money, and…” she pauses again, the first tear sliding down her cheek. “He said the condo and car are mine. He folded so fast I realized he’s used me all this time only because I let him. I didn’t fight hard enough.”

It absolutely guts me to know what nightmare she willingly put herself through, thinking she deserved nothing but pain. I didn’t think I could love her more than I already did, but I do, and my new life mission’s just become making her happy. Making her believe she’s worthy and making her realize what an incredible woman she is.

“Next time I see your father—”

“You’ll do nothing,” B interrupts, darting away from me. “Please, Cody. He’s spiteful, he’ll do something to get back at you or me, maybe mess with Nico’s business or worse. Leave it, okay? All I want is for him to disappear from my life.”

“He wouldn’t dare start a war with Nico, believe me. He’d feel the repercussions for years to come.” I kiss her head, trying to soothe her agitated mind. “You love me, B. And that means you trust me.”

She falls silent, the weight of her confession dawning on us both. I replay every word she spoke, and the knowledge rips me to shreds.

She really never did have a voice. Couldn’t say no, couldn’t ask her parents for help, couldn’t tell her friends…

I hold her even closer, my lips almost permanently glued to her head as I stroke her hair, waiting for her to drift off, but instead, she moves away just far enough to kiss my lips.

And that kiss is as far from a simple peck as it can be. She wants me, needs me inside her.

My first instinct, after everything I just learned, is to push her away. My mind screams that she needs time, until I remember she’s already had years of dealing with this, months of therapy, and weeks in my bed.

“Promise me something,” I say, dragging her onto my lap.

“Anything.”

“Promise that you’ll never lie to me no matter what you think the truth will do. Not even a tiny white lie.”

She narrows her eyes, contemplating my face while her fingers skim up and down my pecs. “You’re worried about my head,” she muses, a small smile curving her lips. “You think I’m traumatized, correct?”

“In a way, yes. If you need time, we have plenty.”

“I don’t need time. I dealt with the mental damage before we happened, and you helped me get over the physical constraints.” She leans in, kissing the tip of my nose. “I love you, and I love our sex life. I’m not coming on to you because I’m trying to forget. I’m coming on to you because I need to remember what it feels like to be truly happy, calm, and safe.”

So I remind her, flipping her over, I quickly hook my thumbs over the elastic of her panties and slide them down her legs. I don’t bother with the night dress. There’s something devastatingly arousing about her wearing clothes when we fuck. My t-shirt works best, but the night dress will do. I grip her thighs, watching her blue eyes hood over, the wanton look on her something to behold.

Taking my sweet time, I kiss the inside of her thighs, nose a line from her pussy to her navel, and not until she squirms, jutting her hips, do I suck her into my mouth.

A satisfied gasp falls from her lips, launching a brand-new flavor of desire straight to my aching cock. I can wait. I need her orgasm more than my own.

“Cody…” she tuts, weaving her fingers through my hair. “A little faster, please.”

I lick her, increasing both the tempo and pressure. She tastes fucking divine. I push two fingers inside, my cock pulsing in time with her pussy. She’s on edge within minutes. Her breathing pattern changes, her moans become louder, and that’s when I stop and move back. Her eyes fly open in an accusatory stare.

“You’ll make a mess of the bed, baby, and I’m not spending another night on the floor,” I explain, hooking my arms under her back and knees to haul her up. “We’ll finish in the shower.”

“I don’t care where,” she sighs, clinging close enough to brush her lips along my neck.

I stand her in the walk-in shower, turn the water on, and adjust the temperature before I kneel. Draping her right leg over my shoulder, I latch onto her clit, slip two digits inside her, and get to work. The pace is nowhere near as mellow as on the bed. I’m done teasing. I want her to come, then come again, then over and over again on my cock until she can’t move her legs.

She squirts a minute later, biting her hand to muffle the squeals. Hotel walls are paper-thin, and it’s already six in the morning. I’m not as ostentatious as Conor, who didn’t mind Colt and me hearing Vee scream down his bedroom while we lived at Nico’s. They were loud enough to wake me up sometimes.

I’m less inclined to such theatrics. I’m possessive as fuck over those sweet sounds B makes. They’re for my ears and my ears alone. All of her is just for me. No one can watch or listen.

“One more, then—”

“Later,” she pants, her thighs quivering. She unhooks her leg and gently tugs my hair, signaling she wants me to stand. “Let’s see how strong my man is.”

With a graceful hop, she’s in my arms, her legs wrapped around my middle, arms holding onto my neck. “Press me against the wall and have your way with me.”

I smirk, tucking a few wet strands of dark hair behind her ears. “You need a hate-fuck, baby?”

She nods, biting her bottom lip. “I want to feel you every time I sit down tomorrow. Maybe even the day after.”

No more encouragement is necessary. I press her against the tiles, my hand cradling the back of her head to break the impact. I slam into her as soon as she’s pinned to the wall. She yelps a resounding “Yes!” and sinks her nails into my back.

“Remember your safe word, B, and don’t let anyone overhear us. I won’t be happy if you wake anyone up.”

“I promise I’ll be quiet.”

“Good girl. Lean your head on my shoulder and bite down if you can’t keep it in.”

Pulling my hips back, I drive myself home, sinking balls-deep in one sharp thrust. Then again, and again, harder, and faster, spurred by Blair’s almost soundless mewls in my ear, and her nails carving long lines down my back.

She does a beautiful job of keeping quiet, and an even more beautiful job of branding me with a big, stinging hickey when we come in sync. I bet it’ll be sore as long as her pussy.

Still wet, and now utterly boneless, she clings to me as I carry her to bed and tuck her into my side. It’s light out, the clock showing half-past six in the morning.

***

Sunday passes in an utterly uneventful blur. By the time we dragged ourselves out of bed it was past lunchtime, and most of the guests had already left. Dressed, packed, and fed, we got on the road in Blair’s Porsche, with Ana tucked in the back. Six hours later—thanks to a lot of restroom breaks—we arrived home and spent the rest of the evening in my condo.

It’s Monday that brings a sliver of closure.

Logan wasn’t at all surprised when I texted him late on Sunday, saying I needed a day off after Blair slipped up and told me about her father’s imminent visit.

I was itching all morning, hoping he’d give me a reason to break his jaw. While we waited for the fucker to show up, I reviewed her condo purchase documents to ensure the place was legally hers. Once that was out of the way, I called two guys to replace the locks in case her father had a copy of the key.

“Did he call?” I ask B, watching her unpack a suitcase. “It’s getting late.”

Just as she opens her mouth to answer, a faint knock resonates in the hallway. It’s not on Blair’s door, though, it’s on mine.

My muscles seize painfully as I cross the kitchen, flinging the door open. Instead of Gideon, like I expect, Nico turns to look at me. He hasn’t casually dropped by since… ever.

He never arrives unannounced, and never for chit-chat, so the cold shiver sliding down my spine is warranted.

“What’s wrong?” I ask.

“Invite me in, Cody. Your girlfriend’s dad left my office twenty minutes ago. He was… disturbed, to say the least.”

I refrain from pointing out that it’s seven in the evening, and he shouldn’t be working at this time. Instead, I hold the door open to let him in.

Blair’s in the bedroom doorway, her cheeks pale as she takes the bulk of my brother in. “Hey,” she says. “Is something wrong?”

“Your dad stopped by Nico’s office,” I explain, gesturing for her to come closer as Nico props himself against the breakfast island. “Go on, bro. What did he want?”

Blair grabs two Coronas from the fridge, popping the caps, her hands trembling softly.

“First, he apologized for Blair ‘crashing’ Logan’s wedding. Said he understands how much distress it must’ve caused me and Mia, and tried promising he’d deal with her in due course.”

“How did he know I was there?” Blair asks, pouring herself a glass of wine, her voice small, face flushed.

“Logan’s socials are full of pictures from the wedding. People were posting all weekend, tagging him and Cass. You and Cody were caught on quite a few.”

“What did you tell him?” I ask, pulling a barstool out for B to sit.

There’s a slight pause, and when he speaks again, a rare note of humor coats his words. “That the past is just that. Past. It doesn’t matter now you two are together.”

“I’m guessing Dad wasn’t happy about that,” B says, already halfway through her wine.

“No, he wasn’t,” Nico confirms. “To cut a long story short, he spent over two hours trying to belittle you, your relationship with Cody, your feelings, and your remorse, all while adding in quite a lot of shit to try and piss me off.”

I smirk, imagining the situation. Nico has a very short fuse wherever Mia’s involved. He’s opinionated and snaps faster than the naked eye can register when anyone disrespects his family but, despite that, he can be surprisingly well composed when he knows he’s being manipulated.

“I guess it didn’t work.”

“You guess correctly. However, Gideon worked himself up rather quickly, and instructed me to cash in his largest portfolio and deposit the money in a Swiss bank account.”

Blair stills beside me, wide-eyed. “That makes no sense,” she whispers. “You’re the only person he respects and the only person he trusts with money. Why would he—oh,” she gasps, suddenly enlightened as she whispers, “Punishment…”

“Punishment?” Nico questions, one eyebrow raised.

“He closed my portfolio. The one he promised I’d get for my twenty-first birthday. He’s threatened to do this for years,” she explains absentmindedly, a tiny, disbelieved chuckle escaping her. “He really thinks I’m like him. He thinks leaving me high and dry will somehow hurt me, and I’ll come crawling back.”

A moment of deafening silence ensues, my older brother mulling her words over, either reading between the lines or recalling whatever Gideon told him. I can almost hear his brain working. He pierces Blair with unyielding eyes, trying to coalesce something solid. While he’s thinking, I top B’s wine glass up.

“He blackmailed you with that portfolio,” Nico finally says, all humor gone from his voice. “I guess the rumors were true.”

“What rumors?” Blair whips her head up, peering at him over the rim of her glass. “What have you heard?”

“That you were interested in the old, rich, influential men your father worked with.” He runs a hand down his face. “I guess it was never a matter of preference or choice.”

Blair doesn’t respond, but I feel her demeanor shift as shame and dread take over.

“So? Did he say what his plan was now?” I ask, but Nico’s not looking at me. He’s focused on my girl.

“Blair,” he urges and waits until she lifts her eyes. “Your father set up your portfolio during our first meeting. It’s in your name. Only you can withdraw the money and…” He pauses, something dark and heavy passing over his face.

It almost looks like pity. Blair’s not as hung up on the and as I am, she’s shellshocked by only you.

“It’s mine?” she asks quietly, eyes big, round, and tearful. “He didn’t take it away?”

“He can’t,” Nico insists, letting out a long sigh. “You’ve had right of access since the day you turned eighteen.”

Her stool scrapes the tiles as she springs to her feet, spilling her wine. I reach out to grab her, but she shrugs me off, shaking all over, eyes full of tears.

“I’m okay, I just… I need a minute,” she chokes, rushing into her bedroom.

The door closes with a click and Nico zeroes in on me, the quiet intensity of his gaze like an invisible pole probing my brain.

“Did she tell you what Gideon made her do?”

I bob my head, chugging the last of my beer.

“How bad was it?”

Everything Blair told me about her work resurfaces. She didn’t go into detail, but it was enough to draw a bone-chilling picture.

“No one was there to help her when she faced her own version of Asher and Jake,” I say, knowing damn well Nico will understand rape without me having to spell it out.

His hands ball into tight fists as he regains his composure, squashing the memories of his girl’s sexual abuse.

“You should go see how she’s doing,” he finally says, pushing away from his casual lean against the cabinets. “Call me when she decides how to proceed with the money. And tell her Gideon’s set on moving to Europe by the end of the month.” He squeezes my shoulder, a silent gesture of reassurance. A nonverbal confirmation that he’s available if we need any help. “I’ll let myself out.”

With a tight nod, I turn the opposite way, finding Blair in bed, curled under the comforter, silent tears streaming down her cheeks. Her eyes are shut tight, a clear indication words aren’t what she needs right now.

The first night she spent crying in my arms comes back to the forefront of my mind. I loved how she curled into me and held onto my t-shirt while silently falling apart.

Despite our mutual hatred, she trusted me even then. She embraced her emotions and let her tears dry at their own pace.

I sneak under the comforter, pulling her into me, ready to put her back together when she’s done crying.

Her tears dry much faster tonight than they did all those weeks ago. She clings to me, no longer afraid I’ll push her away, and feeds off whatever calmness she finds in my arms.

“Can you promise me something?” she murmurs a while later, her fingers drawing little hearts across my chest. “Don’t go looking for my father, okay? He’s not worth it.”

I clench my jaw, the cogs in my mind whirring. Since we came back yesterday, I imagined breaking the fucker’s nose a thousand times. Holding back all day wasn’t easy, but he was supposed to show up at some point.

But he’s not coming and B’s making me promise I won’t go looking…

And that goes against my reflexes. He hurt her. Intentionally used her as bait. His own daughter. A few broken bones are the least he deserves.

“I don’t want him anywhere near you, B. I’ll just talk to him. Let him know he should stay the fuck away if he values his life.”

She smiles. Fucking smiles into the crook of my neck. “He will stay away. Now he knows Nico doesn’t mind us being together, he won’t risk a scandal. He knows he can’t intimidate me anymore. That if he tries poking, I have enough stories to bury his reputation.” She sighs heavily, rising on her elbow to look me in the eyes. “Why do you think he’s moving to Europe? It was always his retirement plan, but now that he’s facing a backlash, he’s removing himself from the picture.”

“Coward,” I mutter, wrapping one arm around her back.

“He always was,” she admits, then stamps her lips on my forehead. “When I wake up in the morning, I want it to be the first day of the rest of my life, Cody. A life I fully intend on spending with you. I want to draw a line and start over but I won’t if you can’t start with me.”

A part of me screams hell to the no. Gideon should hear a few hard truths. He should fucking hurt, but… at the end of the day, what will screaming and throwing fists accomplish? Nothing much. He’s too rotten for any of the things I’m dying to tell him to make an impact, and bruises heal.

What won’t change is the weight on Blair’s shoulders. Not until we start moving forward instead of looking back and standing still. She deserves smiles. She deserves to feel safe and loved and that will make a difference.

I take her face in my hands, pulling her in for a soft kiss. “Okay. I won’t go looking for him.”

The smile she gives me has my heart squeezing like a sponge. It’s the most genuine smile I’ve seen on her to date; I want to give her reasons to smile like this every day.

“I love you,” she whispers, maneuvering us back into a tangle under the sheets.

“I love you more.”