Fate
Fate
Steel Brothers Saga: Book Thirteen
HELEN HARDT
This book is an original publication of Waterhouse Press.
* * *
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental. The publisher does not assume any responsibility for third-party websites or their content.
* * *
Copyright © 2020 Waterhouse Press, LLC
Cover Design by Waterhouse Press, LLC
Cover Photographs: Shutterstock
* * *
All Rights Reserved.
No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic format without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Purchase only authorized editions.
Contents
Prologue
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Chapter Thirty-Two
Chapter Thirty-Three
Chapter Thirty-Four
Chapter Thirty-Five
Chapter Thirty-Six
Chapter Thirty-Seven
Chapter Thirty-Eight
Chapter Thirty-Nine
Chapter Forty
Chapter Forty-One
Chapter Forty-Two
Chapter Forty-Three
Chapter Forty-Four
Chapter Forty-Five
Chapter Forty-Six
Chapter Forty-Seven
Chapter Forty-Eight
Chapter Forty-Nine
Chapter Fifty
Chapter Fifty-One
Chapter Fifty-Two
Chapter Fifty-Three
Chapter Fifty-Four
Chapter Fifty-Five
Chapter Fifty-Six
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Chapter Fifty-Eight
Epilogue
Continue reading the Steel Brothers Saga with Book Fourteen
Message from Helen Hardt
Also By Helen Hardt
Acknowledgments
About Helen Hardt
For everyone who asked for Brad and Daphne’s story
Prologue
Brad
Present Day…
Prison is hell.
I gave up my right to go to a white-collar crime facility so that my accessories could walk. They’d worked hard for me, and they were young. They didn’t deserve incarceration. It was the least I could do.
I always knew I’d end up in prison. My money could only buy freedom until my reasons for hiding ran out.
Once they did, I was ready to go.
Ready to answer for the life I’d led.
Ready to pay.
Yeah, prison is hell.
Not because of the constant inmate fighting. I may be in my sixties, but after a lifetime of watching my back, defending myself, and protecting those I love, I can fend off even the worst of them.
Not because of the disgusting slop masquerading as our meals. I’m used to fine dining, but what is food other than fuel for a body? I can change my thinking, imagine a Steel rib eye in place of the glop they call beef stew.
Not because of the asshole guards. They all know who I am, know I have access to wads of cash. They pretty much leave me alone.
The real hell is the time.
All the fucking time in the world with nothing to do but think.
Think about the life I chose, the roads I traveled, the choices I made. The mistakes—and what they’d cost me.
I chose to fund the Future Lawmakers…and the money they made was used for unthinkable activities.
I chose to marry Daphne…and though I loved her and love her still, my choice harmed so many.
I chose to sleep with Wendy…and though I had my reasons at the time, things between Daphne and me were never the same.
I chose to raise Wendy’s child as mine and Daphne’s, telling no one the truth…and my youngest son will never forgive me.
I chose to leave my children…and though my reason was noble—to protect their mother—they felt abandoned.
I chose to fake my own death—not once but twice—and though my children forgave me the first time, they’ll never forgive me now.
I chose to protect my wife and children at all costs…and now I’m paying the ultimate price.
Time is a formidable enemy. Time to think of the chaos I’d caused.
Time to imagine how everyone’s lives may have been had I acted differently.
Time to create every viable scenario in my mind.
Could I have prevented Wendy’s obsession with me?
Daphne’s madness?
Talon’s abduction?
What could I have done differently?
Hindsight is twenty-twenty.
But what could I have changed? The outcome might have been far worse had I acted differently.
The past is mine to live with, as it is for my wife and my children.
At least Daphne is safe. All the threats to her have been eliminated, and her children will care for her. She will live out her days comfortably, with her doll for company, in the world she created because she couldn’t exist in the world I gave her.
And I wanted to give her so much! Daphne was fragile, more fragile than I knew when we met and made Jonah. And I loved her. I loved her nearly from the beginning, and I love her still. She was and is my soul mate. If only I could have been worthy of her. I watched my own mother’s abuse by my father, stopped it when I was large and strong enough, but still she suffered the effects. I wanted so much more for Daphne, for our family.
And my children…
Jonah, Talon, Ryan, Marjorie.
They’ve all found happiness, and I’m the grandfather of five so far with another on the way.
I can’t ask for anything more. I don’t deserve to find joy in my children or grandchildren because I denied Daphne the joy in hers. In ours.
Happiness was never in the cards for me. Yes, I had moments here and there—Daphne’s smile, the births of my children, teaching my sons how to work the ranch, my baby girl looking up at me with those big brown eyes and demanding I teach her everything I taught her brothers.
But each moment was only a tiny oasis in the hurricane I constantly sought shelter from.
The hurricane has finally turned to nothing but a cool breeze, but it left so much damage in its wake.
Life was forever altered for each of my children.
My children who, though they bear no responsibility, have suffered endlessly for my sins.
My children.
My life.
I’d been furloughed for Marjorie’s wedding, and she’d allowed me to walk her down the aisle when s
he married Bryce Simpson, but she hadn’t forgiven me. She made that clear after the ceremony.
I wanted to give you this, Dad. I wanted to let you walk your only daughter down the aisle. I selfishly wanted it for myself, too. But I’m not ready to let this go yet. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready.
Her brothers were harsher, especially Ryan. I don’t blame him. I lied to him from his birth about his true parentage—only one of my many sins against my children.
Time.
Just time.
Time to ponder.
Time to ruminate.
Time to relive.
Time to self-loathe.
But never enough time for what I want most in the world.
Redemption.
Chapter One
Daphne
Forty years earlier…
I had the dream last night.
Two months had gone by since the last time, and I’d allowed myself to think I was better.
My heart beat like a bass drum against my sternum.
You’re just nervous about leaving home, Daphne. College will be fun. The best time of your life. No reason to be scared. No reason. No reason. No reason.
A knock on my bedroom door, and then my mother’s voice.
“Wake up, sleepyhead!” She cracked the door, peeking in. “Breakfast is ready. We need to leave soon. Are you all packed?”
“Yeah,” I said softly.
She opened the door and walked in, her forehead wrinkled. “You okay?”
I nodded. She worried so much. Between my half brother, Larry, and me, my parents had more than most to handle.
I hardly knew my half brother. He was three years older than I was, and he lived with his mother—Lisa, my father’s first wife. I’d never met her. Larry was almost done with college and planned to go to law school. He’d mastered his demons, apparently—those things that had sent him into therapy at a young age and seen him through countless arrests as a teenager.
Now if only I could master mine.
The dream. The damned dream.
I couldn’t tell my mother. She’d freak out, worry herself sick. My beautiful mother had permanent bags under her eyes thanks to me, and I wasn’t about to add to them today.
No, today I was leaving her.
She deserved to live in peace.
My dorm room was small but cozy. My roommate, Patty, hadn’t arrived yet. We hadn’t communicated at all. I just got a postcard in the mail from the university telling me her name and that she was from Iowa. I’d lived in Denver all my life and was going to college in Denver as well.
I couldn’t go far away from home, not after what I’d been through. I needed a safety net.
“I’ll help you make your bed up,” my mother said.
“It’s okay, Mom. I’m capable of making a bed.”
“Then why don’t you ever do it at home?” She laughed.
It was a nervous laugh.
She considered me fragile, and she worried, but she was trying to give me something normal. After high school, you went to college. That was normal.
But I wasn’t fragile. Not anymore. I kept up with my high school classes despite my hospitalizations. I’d always learned quickly and easily, and that was a godsend when I ended up missing most of my junior year. I worked hard and was able to graduate on time.
I returned for senior year. Everyone at school believed I’d spent junior year abroad in London. Everyone at home walked on eggshells, wondering if I’d break again.
But I hadn’t.
I hadn’t broken.
I was okay. Okay enough to leave home and begin college.
I remembered everything now. Never lost time, and never escaped to an imaginary world in a cloudy haze of medication. I knew what was real and what wasn’t. I’d worked hard with my therapist to put the pieces of junior year back in place, but in the end, the puzzle remained unfinished. I just didn’t remember most of the year.
Everything else was good, so it was time to accept that my amnesia wouldn’t be cured.
The dream I’d had last night popped into my head.
The images always began to form but never completed. Maybe this time—
The door to the room swung open. “Hi there! I’m Patty. You must be Daphne Wade.” The bubbly redhead stuck out her hand to me.
“Oh, yeah. Hi. These are my parents.” I took her hand and gave her a firm handshake, like my father always taught me.
“Mr. and Mrs. Wade, great to meet you. This is my mom, Lila Watson.”
Lila was an older and slightly overweight version of Patty. The same red hair, bubbly personality, and everything.
“Are you ready to go?” Patty asked me.
“Go where?”
“To the mixer, silly. It’s a welcome-back thing, and upperclassmen guys always go to check out the freshman girls.”
My father wrinkled his brow. “Upperclassmen are here already?”
“Yeah. Well, a lot of them anyway,” Patty said. “My older brother graduated last year. He told me most upperclassmen come back early to party for a few days before classes start.”
My father’s brow stayed wrinkled.
“You should go, honey,” my mother said. “Get into the spirit. Orientation starts tomorrow.”
I looked in the mirror. My long dark hair was pulled back into a braid hanging down my back. I didn’t wear a lot of makeup. I’d gotten out of the habit of painting my face after another hospital patient painted a canvas of me. I’d had no makeup on, and he made me look so beautiful that I began seeing myself as beautiful without it. I was lucky that I had dark brows and long black lashes. I liked a little lip gloss, though. My lips were a nice pink, but I liked the shine.
I looked down at my jeans and sandals. “I guess I should change.”
“It’s casual,” Patty said. “You look great. You’re a natural beauty.”
My cheeks warmed a little. “So are you.”
“I do okay. Too many freckles. Not you, though. That’s a peaches-and-cream complexion if I ever saw one.”
I looked a lot like my mother, and I was lucky I never had an acne problem. My brother, Larry, had terrible zits, or at least that was what my father said. I’d only seen him a few times over the years. I used to wonder why…until junior year. After that, I had enough of my own stuff to deal with, and I rarely gave my seemingly invisible half brother a thought.
My father cleared his throat. “We should be going, Lucy.”
My mother nodded, her eyes a little sad. “You okay, Daphne?”
“Yeah.” I went in for a hug.
My mom was always available for a hug. I’d put her through so much, I was surprised I hadn’t hugged her out.
Dad kissed me on the cheek. “Give ’em hell, little girl. Be strong.”
Be strong.
The same words he’d used every time he came to visit me at the hospital. At least the times I could remember.
I’d heed them.
I’d be strong for my parents. I’d put them through more than enough.
The mixer was held in the huge courtyard in the middle of campus. A keg of beer was set up. I was only eighteen and had virtually no experience with drinking. Patty pushed through the crowd and came back with two red plastic cups filled with beer.
I wasn’t a huge fan of beer, but I wanted to fit in, so I took it. I’d been cleared for alcohol consumption once I went off all my meds, but still, I planned to be smart about it. I wouldn’t have more than this one cup.
I was shy by nature, but Patty was the opposite. She dragged me all around, introducing the two of us to pretty much everyone who crossed our paths. We met some girls from our dorm and quite a few others as well.
I finished my beer and felt a little more at ease.
“You want another?” Patty asked.
“I shouldn’t.”
“Sure you should. Let’s go.”
We made our way to the keg and held up our red cups.
The auburn-h
aired guy manning the keg filled Patty’s and turned to me. “Empty, sweetheart, but a new one’s coming. Hold on a minute. Here he comes.”
A muscular man hauled another keg toward us.
He turned and met my gaze.
And I nearly melted into the darkest brown eyes I’d ever seen.
Chapter Two
Brad
“Thanks, Steel,” Murphy said.
But I barely heard him.
Next to him stood the most beautiful girl I’d ever laid eyes on. She was perfect. Fucking perfect. Dark hair pulled back and accenting her perfect oval face. Pink cheeks and lips. Gorgeous big brown eyes with the longest black lashes. Like a curtain of ebony.
Since when did I think in such stupid poetic words?
I hadn’t seen her before, so she was probably part of the new crop of freshmen.
Also, I had a girlfriend. Sort of.
Wendy and I had been together since high school. She was a junior at a different college, and I was a senior here. We were on-again, off-again, and right now we were in an off-again phase.