Feathers and Thorne Series Books 1 - 3: The Complete Collection

Chapter Sixteen

Isabella

“Sam will be back.” Anita sets the bowl down on the nightstand next to me and perches on the edge of the bed. “Even sisters fight.”

I twist a loose thread around my finger. “We’ve never had a fight like this before.”

Anita sighs. “Things have been tense. A lot has happened to both of you. It’s a lot of change. It’s okay if the two of you need a minute to adjust.”

I keep twirling the loose thread and look up at Anita’s kind face. “How are you so sure she’s going to come back?”

“She might be mad at you or upset even, but it doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you anymore. It doesn’t just go away overnight or after one fight.”

I sniff and stop twirling the thread. “It did with Carter.”

Anita reaches across the bed for my hand. “Sweetheart, Carter still loves you. I know it. Just because he needs some space to figure things out doesn’t mean how he feels about you has changed.”

I search Anita’s face. “What if it has?”

What if I have no family left outside of the baby growing inside of me? How am I going to do any of it on my own?

It’s one thing for me to decide to leave Carter and raise the baby on my own, a decision I had gone back and forth on several times. It’s another thing entirely for Carter to leave me behind and leave me questioning everything between us.

Of all the scenarios I imagined, being confined to Anita’s house and dreading the outside world wasn’t one of them. I hate how weak and dependent I am, mostly because I know the baby deserves better.

Anita squeezes my hand. “If Carter doesn’t love you anymore, then I trust he’ll do the right thing, and he’ll come back, and he’ll tell you.”

A single tear slides down my cheek. “And he’ll kick me out, and the baby and I will have nowhere to go.”

Anita frowns. “Isabella, you know me well enough to know that I don’t turn my back on family. Even if things don’t work out between you and Carter, it doesn’t mean you aren’t still one of us. You and that baby will always have a place here with me.”

I swallow past the lump in my throat.

Anita drifts closer and takes my other hand in hers. When she smiles, it’s full of so much love and understanding that I can’t help but smile back.

“But we’re assuming the worst-case scenario here,” Anita continues in a softer voice. “And I don’t know about you, but I like to stay positive.”

“It’s been hard to do that, especially lately.”

Anita leans forward and tucks my hair behind my ear. “Well, of course, it has, sweetheart. You’ve been through a lot in the past few months. You’ve been kidnapped, abused, tortured, threatened, and you’ve lost your dad. Going through any of those things is enough to break a person, but look at you. You’re still standing.”

“Barely,” I whisper before averting my gaze. “Sam is right. I shouldn’t be cooped up in here wondering if Carter is ever going to come back and not living my life in the meantime.”

“Isabella, if you want to stay in here until you’re ready to face the world, you go ahead and do that,” Anita responds in an even tone. “No one else has the right to tell you how to grieve or what you need to get yourself back up again. As long as you’re not hurting yourself or the baby, you do what you need to do.”

I swing my gaze back to hers and clear my throat. “So, you’re not going to tell me to get back out there?”

“Not until you’re ready,” Anita assures me with another maternal smile. “You take whatever time you need, and when you’re ready, we’ll be here.”

Some of the knots in my stomach loosen. “Thank you.”

I want to believe that Anita knows better since Carter is her nephew, after all.

But knowing that I won’t be alone, no matter what happens, makes me feel like a weight has been lifted off my shoulders.

Anita, Tristan, and Sam aren’t a substitute for Carter.

No one could be.

Yet a part of me clings to the belief that when the going gets tough, I won’t be cast out into the cold with no family, no job, a baby, and a target on my back. Even if Carter turns his back on me, I doubt his enemies are going to let me slip through their fingers. Not if there’s even a slight chance of being able to get to him.

A tremor races through me, and I try to shove the thought away.

Anita stands up, goes around the side of the bed, and draws the cover back. When I give her a confused look, she doesn’t say anything as she climbs onto the bed. Then she tucks me into her side, drapes the covers over us, and strokes my hair.

Being this close to her is both strange and familiar.

Anita has been nothing but welcoming and kind since the first moment I laid eyes on her, but with everything going on with Carter and the war, I didn’t want to dwell on it. Accepting that she’s extending an olive branch because of Carter is one thing. Realizing that she genuinely cares about me is another, and I haven’t had a motherly figure in my life since my mom’s passing a few years ago.

I can’t even remember the last time I felt this way about anyone. And the thought brings tears to my eyes.

Since my father’s illness, I’ve been so focused on keeping him alive, on getting us from one day to the next, that I lost sight of myself along the way. Trying to keep my head above water hasn’t been easy, but I never regretted the sacrifices I had to make or the price I had to pay.

But it does make me wonder about the kind of path I want my own daughter to take.

Because I don’t want her to lead a half-life, and I don’t want her to be so busy surviving and hustling that she forgets about what really matters.

I release a deep breath and push myself closer to the Blackthorne family matriarch, the smell of freesias and cinnamon wafting up my nostrils. “Thank you for this. I… I didn’t realize how much I needed it.”

Anita continues to stroke my back. “From the moment you walked in through that door, I knew you were special. Not just because Carter has never brought anyone else home, but I could also see it in your eyes, and the way you looked at him, and how nervous you were about making a good impression.”

I sigh. “Yeah, I was, wasn’t I?”

Anita chuckles and runs her fingers through my hair. “Love makes us do crazy things, Isabella. God knows I didn’t picture my life turning out this way, but now that it has, I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

I tilt my head back to look up at her, taking in the laugh lines on her face and the twinkle in her eyes. “You wouldn’t take anything back?”

Anita lowers her head and looks directly at me. “Maybe I’d want to change a few of the difficulties we faced here and there, but then I don’t know if I would still end up here. So, no, in the long run, I don’t think I’d want to change anything.”

I search her face. “You don’t talk about your late husband much. I hope it’s okay that I’m asking about him.”

Anita’s lips lift into a sad smile. “Of course, it’s okay. Matteo and I met when I was about your age. Like Carter, he was a few years older than me, and I knew from the minute I laid eyes on him that I was done for.”

I place my head back on her chest, over the thumping of her heart. “You did? What made you so sure?”

“Because up until that point, I’d always played it safe, colored inside the lines. That sort of thing. Matteo made me realize I wanted more out of life,” Anita murmured, her voice thick with emotion. “We were so young back then and so full of hope and passion for the future.”

I curl one hand into a fist while the other lays limply by my side. “So, what happened?”

“My father happened,” Anita says after a brief pause. “He thought it was time for me to stop messing around and take up my rightful place in the family business.”

I frown. “Shouldn’t it have been your choice?”

Anita’s fingers moved to my scalp, and she started massaging the tender flesh there. “It was, and it wasn’t. I knew he wasn’t going to force me to take up my rightful place, but I also knew there would be consequences if I didn’t.”

I blow out a breath. “So, it was a damned if you do, damned if you don’t kind of situation?”

Anita exhales with her whole body. “Absolutely. Up until I met Matteo, I hadn’t even considered that I had other options.”

I look back up at her, and upon recognizing the thoughtful look on her face, my heart misses a beat. “You walked away, didn’t you?”

“For a few years,” Anita replies, the barest hint of a smile on her face. “We thought it was the kind of life we wanted, but everything changed when my dad had a heart attack.”

Tears fill my eyes. “I’m so sorry.”

Anita blinks. “So was I. He was always such a strong and confident man. It was strange to see him become reduced to a lesser version of himself, but it was the thing that brought me back home.”

I pull myself out of her embrace and prop myself up on my elbows. “Were you glad to be back?”

“I was happy to see my brothers again, and other members of the family, but I can’t say that I was glad. It was more like I knew where I needed to be.”

“What about Matteo? How did he handle it?”

Anita frowns and crosses one ankle over the other. “Matteo wasn’t built for this kind of life. It was hard for him being back and having certain expectations thrown at him.”

I hold my breath. “How did he handle it?”

Anita shifts and looks directly at me. “There’s no right or wrong answer, Isabella. Matteo did the best he could, but there were days when it was hard. So hard that I wondered if it would be better if we left again.”

But they didn’t.

Because Anita isn’t the kind of person to turn her back on her family. She sounds so much like Carter in that moment that it makes my stomach twist with emotion.

I’ve never missed him more than I do now, never craved his touch more than I do in this moment. But I do wonder about the kind of future we will have together.

“He eventually found something that works for him,” Anita continues in a softer voice. “But I knew it wasn’t easy for him. Relationships aren’t always meant to be easy. Sometimes, they’re hard because you have to compromise, and you have to make sacrifices, and you never know if you’re going to end up regretting it down the line.”

I swallow. “I hope you didn’t regret it.”

Anita shakes her head, wisps of hair escaping from her bun. “I don’t think either of us did. We knew we wanted to be together, and we were willing to put in the work. Our biggest regret was that we never had kids.”

“You never wanted to?”

“I wanted to wait,” Anita admits with a shrug. “And then, by the time I felt ready, it was too late. Women’s bodies don’t work the same, you know.”

I nod. “Yeah, I know.”

Anita’s expression turns wistful, a far-off gleam in her eyes as she looks away from me and at the window. “I honestly couldn’t have gotten through it without Nico and Daniel.”

I pause to adjust the pillow behind me and curl onto my side so I’m facing her directly. “Nico is Carter’s dad, right? He doesn’t talk much about him.”

Carter barely brings up his parents, except in the most glowing of terms and even then, on rare occasions. And while a part of me appreciates that he had a pair of wonderful, loving, and supportive parents, the other part of me wants to know more.

I’m sure there was more to them than elaborate date nights or mornings spent playing with the kids. And the more I learn about the Blackthorne family, the more curious I am. Hearing about all the good stuff isn’t enough, not anymore.

Because I need to know it wasn’t just a show.

I have to know that their love was able to survive, even when things got dark. Otherwise, what hope do Carter and I have?

“Losing them was hard for Carter,” Anita reveals, her gaze shifting back to mine. Her expression is clearer now and a lot sadder, as whatever memory had her in its throes loses its grip on her. “There were days when I wondered if he was going to survive. Some losses break people so completely that it’s hard to come back from that.”

I swallow and lapse into silence.

“I think what was worse was feeling like their death was completely out of his hands. Like he couldn’t have done anything differently,” Anita adds in a strange voice. “Of all the things that could’ve killed them, a car accident just seems so…”

“Ordinary?”

Anita nods and offers me a grateful smile. “They led big, ambitious lives, and they were definitely taken too soon. Brooke was in the car with them the night they died.”

My eyes widen as I gape at her. “She was?”

I don’t understand why Carter never told me or why he felt the need to keep this from me in the first place. But I know that the topic of Brooke is always going to be a sore one, especially for him.

It isn’t lost on me that I wouldn’t be here today if I didn’t resemble her. And I haven’t forgotten the fact that Carter carried a torch for her for years. Sometimes, I wonder if a part of him will always love her for what they could’ve had because time isn’t going to change or distort his image of her.

In his mind, Brooke is always going to be this perfect specimen of the first woman he loved. And I’m never going to be able to live up to that, especially now that he’s gotten to know me.

Brooke Blackthorne will live on in the hearts and minds of those who loved her as a young, vivacious, and gorgeous woman who had her life ahead of her.

I can’t possibly compete with that, and I know I shouldn’t.

Anita runs a hand over her face. “I think Carter was out with a friend that night, and the three of them were on their way back from some kind of event. Brooke didn’t mind going as much as Carter did, but then that driver came out of nowhere…”

I reach for Anita’s hand and squeeze. “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Some of the shadows on Anita’s face disappear. “Talking about it helps. I think it’s one of the only ways to make sure the past no longer has any kind of hold on you.”

I give Anita’s hand another squeeze. “I understand.”

Because I myself feel like I’m never going to stop being that young woman who worked for Lacey, who went to work terrified every day, just to be able to keep my father and me afloat.

“Carter spent weeks in the hospital by Brooke’s side, and I think that up until that moment, Brooke was able to convince herself that what Carter felt for her wasn’t real. She thought it was just gratitude because their parents saved Carter from a terrible fate.”

“Do you think that was the case?”

Anita twists onto her side and looks at me. “Carter loved Brooke in the only way he knew how, but after their parents died, he became obsessive. And he became controlling, and I don’t think Brooke liked that. They fought so much that we all began to wonder if they were going to end up destroying each other.”

“I had no idea it was that difficult.”

“It wasn’t always, but it could be sometimes. I tried to warn Carter and advise him, but at the time, he was surrounding himself with people who wanted to use him. People who saw the advantages of cozying up to the new head of the Blackthorne family.”

I want to hurt the people who steered him wrong and who made him feel like his worth was tied to what he brought to the table.

“What about Carter’s grandfather? Why wasn’t he still in charge?”

“Because he was too old by then, and he knew it was time to groom a successor,” Anita replies with a sad smile. “Nico was already handling a lot of the day-to-day operations, but he didn’t have much of a knack for leading. I’d made it clear that I wasn’t interested, and our father felt like Daniel couldn’t handle the responsibility.”

“What about Tristan’s father?”

“Luca didn’t have the best health, so our father felt like he wouldn’t be the best fit.”

“Why not go for Daniel then?”

Anita looks up at the ceiling, and her brows furrowed together. “I think he felt like Daniel’s mother was weak, and so he felt like Daniel inherited her weakness.”

I draw my bottom lip between my teeth and chew on it. “I wonder why he thought that.”

“I don’t think he ever got over my mother’s death,” Anita whispers, her voice catching toward the end. “None of us did. But with Dad, it was different. It affected him a lot more than he wanted to admit.”

I take Anita’s hand again, but I don’t say anything. I know there’s nothing I can say to make any of it better or take her pain away. All I can do is hope that Anita knows she isn’t alone and how much I appreciate her opening up to me like this.

Seeing the Blackthornes through a different lens helps much more than I thought.

I feel like I understand Carter and everything he’s had to overcome a lot better. From his grandparents down to his own personal relationships, Carter’s life has been marked by tragedy, loss, and heartache. It’s no wonder he doesn’t know how to cope with it all and ends up bottling everything up.

For the umpteenth time, I find myself wondering if either of us are equipped to handle this baby. Between Carter’s unresolved issues and my own feelings of abandonment and insecurity, I’m not sure either of us knows what we’re getting into.

But when I glance down at my stomach and drape an arm over it, a wave of emotion washes over me, and I know my decision has been made.

I don’t know where Carter and I are going to end up, but I do know one thing. I’m going to love and protect my baby no matter what.

“When he got re-married, I was the first person to think he’d lost his mind,” Anita admits in a small voice. “He met her while he was on business in Hong Kong. I didn’t want to believe he could forget Mom so easily, so I pretended she didn’t exist. After a while, when she realized she was never going to be accepted, she stopped trying.”

Silence stretches between us.

“A few years later, Daniel came along, and in the midst of all of that, it was decided that they were better off somewhere else. At least until Daniel was ten or so. When he came to live with us, Nico, Luca, and I didn’t make it easy for him.”

“I can imagine.”

Anita’s gaze flicks to mine. “We weren’t ready to accept him, and he knew that. But he gave us as good as he got, and in the end, it made us closer as siblings.”

My lips lift into a half smile. “I’m sure it did.”

Anita sits up straighter and rubs a hand over her face. “I’m sure I’ve bored you by now. I didn’t even come in here to tell you any of this. I just wanted to check on you.”

“Hearing about all of this… It helps, it really does.”

Anita gives me an incredulous look. “Now you’re just indulging an old lady.”

“I don’t see any old ladies around,” I tease with a quick smile. “Besides, you’re not an old lady. You’re Anita.”

She waves my comment away and stands up. Then she wanders over to the other side of the room and pulls out a chair. After setting it down next to the bed, she motions to the tray of food. After a brief pause, I pick it up and set it down on my lap.

“Why don’t you eat, and I’ll tell you some more stories? If you want to hear them.”

I settle against the headboard and pick up my spoon. “I’d love to.”

Anita crosses one ankle over the other and links her fingers together. “I remember the day Nico and Margaret came home with Carter. He was this skinny boy who didn’t say much, and he had so much anger, far too much for his body.”

I frown and pick up my spoon. “I can’t even imagine that.”

Anita frowns. “He was so reserved and kept a lot bottled up, even then. My brother and his wife were so worried he’d never talk or ever come out of his shell.”

I blow on my spoon and shove the vegetable broth into my mouth, the explosion of rich flavor making some of the knots in my stomach loosen. “He hasn’t changed much since then.”

Anita throws her head back and laughs. “That’s Carter for you. He never liked to appear weak or not have control over a situation. Even when he was little, whenever anyone picked on him, he fought back like his life depended on it.”

I take another careful sip of the broth, already feeling it work its magic. “What was he like with Brooke?”

A part of me wonders if I’m going to regret asking this, but the other part of me is desperate to know.

Listening to Anita helps me feel connected to the man I love. I’m happy to be listening to these stories, all of them giving me a more nuanced version of Carter and the kind of child he was.

“He was protective,” Anita muses, a thoughtful expression on her face. “Brooke was the first person he opened up to. It surprised all of us, considering how Brooke was. Most siblings have a period of time where they can’t stand each other, but Carter was never like that. Even when Brooke was mean and cruel, she was never able to push him away, not completely.”

I take another sip of my soup and motion for her to continue.

“I personally thought my brother and his wife indulged Brooke a little too much. I knew Brooke was a miracle, one they didn’t see coming, but they definitely let her get away with too much. She was a good kid, but she needed more structure and discipline in her life.”

I make a low noise in the back of my throat and tear off a piece of bread.

After throwing a few pieces into the broth and stirring, I clear my throat. “Is that why you think she and Carter would’ve destroyed each other?”

Anita sits up straighter and shakes her head. “They were too alike. Carter needs someone who is more like you.”

I give her a genuine smile. “Thank you.”

Anita stirs and rises to her feet. “I should get started on dinner. Is there anything special you’d like?”

I blink at her in surprise. “Is it almost dinner time already?”

“We’ve been in here for hours.” Anita gives me an amused look. “I haven’t been able to sit down and reminisce like that in years. Thank you for listening to me.”

I push the blankets away, stand up, and grip the bowl with both hands. “I’m the one who should be thanking you. I’m sure you had better things to do with your time.”

Anita drapes an arm over my shoulders. “Not at all. I’m happy we got the chance to do this.”

In the kitchen, I help her dry the dishes and put them away. Even though I still feel weak, and the dizzy spells don’t abate long enough for me to be on my feet for too long, I don’t want to go back into my room. Having been cooped up there for weeks, it feels nice to stand in the kitchen with Anita and do something normal.

I’ve been craving normalcy for so long now I’ve almost forgotten what it feels like.

Especially when Tristan returns and Sam comes racing down the stairs.

Tristan is his usual self-deprecating self while he helps Anita chop up vegetables. Sam, on the other hand, is pushing slices of chicken around in a pan and doing it with so much concentration and energy that I know she’s trying to think about something else.

I try to keep my mind busy while setting the table.

Then I help carry the plates and silverware to the dining table, pausing to offer Tristan a smile when he unfolds a tablecloth and smooths it out. In the kitchen, Anita is still stirring a big pot of rich-flavored soup, and Sam has moved to the oven, peering intently inside it. Tristan takes out the salad bowl, calling out something unintelligible over his shoulder.

“It’s just us tonight,” Anita announces, her gaze darting between the two of us. “Now, I expect the two of you to behave during dinner. Whatever issues you have, they can wait till after we’re done eating.”

Sam and I don’t look at each other as we nod.

Anita sits at the head of the table, with Tristan to her right. I pull up a chair on her left, and Sam goes to sit next to Tristan, her head still lowered as she unfolds a napkin and drapes it over her lap. In silence, the three of us look over at Anita, who has her head cocked to the side as if she’s listening for something.

Moments later, someone raps on the door. My pulse quickens as I push my chair back.

Paul comes in, wet hair matted to his forehead and an oversized black sweater on backward. He gives us all a distracted smile and pulls up a chair next to me. I try to swallow back the disappointment when no one brings up Carter.

But for the rest of dinner, I keep glancing over at the door as if he’s going to materialize.

And I hold onto the kernel of hope blossoming inside of me as we all lick our plates clean and help Anita tidy up. Once the dishes have been dried and the food has been put away, everyone retires to the living room. Anita sits in between Tristan and Paul, who prop their feet up on the coffee table and look at the TV above the mantle.

Sam stretches her back against the armchair. I linger in the kitchen and wonder where I should go.

Anita twists her head to look at me and gestures to the brown leather armchair opposite Sam’s, vacant and inviting. As I fold up a few of the dish towels and turn the matter over and over in my head, I wonder if this is what my life is going to be like.

Do I have a slew of evenings where I linger on the outskirts, never properly belonging? If Carter doesn’t come back, will I want to leave Anita’s and strike out on my own? Unfortunately, the more I think about it, the more confused I become.

With no college degree and no way to provide proof of my work as a Lacey receptionist, I know I’m not going to be able to provide for myself and the baby. Not in the way I want.

Still, the thought of staying here just to make sure I’m provided for doesn’t sit well with me. I don’t want this to be about money or how much of it I can get out of the Blackthornes.

With a slight shake of my head, I set the folded towels down and wander over to the living room. I lower myself onto the chair, prop up my leg, and give a startled gasp when Tristan throws a blanket in my direction. After pausing to give him a confused look, I drape it over my lap and turn my gaze to the TV.

There’s a loud explosion, and one of the characters is knocked sideways, blood dripping down the sides of his head and from his ears.

I grimace and look over at Sam, who is scrolling through her phone. I stare at her for so long that I wonder if she’s going to look back up at me.

When she doesn’t, I flick my gaze back to the TV and try to get comfortable. Tristan and Paul spend the entire length of the movie poking fun at each other and getting on Anita’s last nerve. Near the end of the movie, she is wagging a finger at them, and they’re both clutching their sides and laughing.

With a half-smile, I watch them and ignore the ache in the center of my stomach. Are Carter and I ever going to have nights like this?

Once the movie ends, Paul stretches his arms over his head and gets up to leave. He offers us all a small smile as Tristan walks him to the door. I twist to watch them both leave and see the hug the brothers give each other. When they linger, tears prick the back of my eyes, and a ball of emotion tightens in my chest.

Anita stands up, walks over to me, and places a hand on my shoulders. “You want to help me bake a cake? When I’ve got a lot on my mind, it helps me think.”

I give her a weak and watery smile. “No, thank you.”

Anita gives me another smile and withdraws her hand. Sam is waiting for her in the kitchen when I stand up.

The door clicks shut, and I hear Paul’s car as he drives off. Moments later, a bolt of thunder lights up the night sky, casting yellow and silver light everywhere. Then, there is a loud clapping sound, and it begins to rain. Tristan peers out the window, a furrow appearing between his brows. I stand up, trudge to my room, and linger in the doorway.

It smells musty, and there are used tissues and clothes strewn over the dresser chair.

With a sigh, I pick up a few clothes and place them in the hamper. Then, I pick up the used tissues and throw them away. When I’m done, I feel a little better as I step into the bathroom and cup my hands under the water. Outside, it’s still pouring steadily, the sound offering a stark contrast to the silence.

I go back into the room, and Sam is standing in the doorway with her arms folded over her chest. “Anita wanted me to see if you needed anything.”

I shake my head and perch on the edge of the bed. “No, thank you.”

Sam gives me a curt nod and steps into the room. In silence, she helps me clean up, the two of us barely looking at each other the whole time. When she’s done, she leaves the room without a backward glance, leaving the door slightly ajar. White light pours in through the crack as I climb onto the bed and switch on the lamp on the nightstand. It casts long shadows across the walls as I lay down on the mattress.

Suddenly, Sam appears again in the doorway, a questioning look on her face. “I also wanted to know if we’re going to be okay?”

I see a glimpse of pain cross her features before I answer. “I hope so, Sam. I really hope so,” I say, sitting up and offering her a slight smile.

“Good.” Sam returns my gesture before turning to head down the hall.

I lie back down and drape an arm over my stomach. I think I feel a flutter, and I open my mouth to call out to Anita.

Thinking better of it, I grab my phone off the nightstand and dial Carter’s number. On the fifth ring, it goes straight to voicemail, and the sound of his voice sends another wave of tears through me.

“Carter,” I whisper, setting the phone down on the pillow next to me. “I miss you. I know you’re out there, but I don’t know if you can hear me. I hope that you’re getting my messages… I’m waiting for you to come home. Our daughter and I are waiting for you.”