"Bittersweet" - Excerpt

by Madeleine Urban

Piers tossed the bags into the back of the small sports car, grinning at Gerard, who looked very nervous.

“Piers, are you sure we can’t just take the train? I mean, really. There’s no need to drag out the Lotus. It would only take a half day or so to get to Bristol,” Gerard rambled, running his hand through his hair in a nervous gesture.

The younger man suppressed a grin and turned to Gerard with a confident smile. “Gerry, don’t worry about it. It will take us a few hours to drive to Bristol and give us that much more time for our vacation,” Piers said. “You’re the one who said I needed to get away for a while.” Gerard swallowed, nodding, almost wringing his hands. Piers put a hand on his shoulder, concerned about how pale his friend was getting. “Gerard, are you afraid of my driving? I’ve never noticed you this upset about riding in a car.”

“Not afraid, really,” Gerard said, gritting his teeth. “I just really don’t like riding, and this bloody car of yours is so low to the ground. It’s not at all safe.”

Piers sighed. “You could have mentioned this anytime in the last several weeks, you know. I could have had the Bentley brought over.”

Gerard groaned and covered his face. Piers just steered him toward the passenger side of the low-slung vehicle, opening the door. “Get in, you big lout. Too late to change our plans now.”

Gerard lowered himself in and started to hook his seatbelt as Piers shut the door firmly. Shaking his head in resignation and repressing the urge to curse aloud, Piers tossed their duffle bags behind his seat before climbing in.

“So, are you ready?” Piers asked. He spared a look at Gerard.

The older man sat in the other seat, stiff as a board, eyes closed and lips moving in what Piers was sure was a prayer. The younger man rolled his eyes and turned the key, smiling as the engine purred smoothly. He couldn’t wait to get to Bristol.

 

The Boxster took the curves on the winding road up the hillside, Harrison giving most of his focus to the road, just reveling in the escape.

He’d left the London townhouse in anger and despair, leaving behind Kristina and her screams and recriminations to drive out to the country and seek solace. She said she’d had enough of him and the way he took her for granted, and that she’d be happy to leave him alone. But she wasn’t leaving without her due. A divorce. Harrison gritted his teeth. It would be a very messy affair, complete with accusations and fights for every red cent.

He’d never denied Kristina anything, and now she was going to take him for everything she could get. She wanted all her effects, the condo in New York, her cars, an exorbitant monthly support payment and even a percentage of his business’s profit annually in perpetuity. Then she’d announced that since they’d been married when he’d bought Failand Forests, he should have to sell his precious country manor, including the stables and breeding business there, and give her half the proceeds.

That was the last straw. He’d been willing to give her all the material things – those meant nothing to him. He didn’t care for the New York condo. He could more than afford the monthly settlement. The future business profits he would have paid just to be rid of her. But Failand Forests and Serenity Stables were his.

His lawyer, Ian Manchester, had looked at the paperwork and shrugged. Kristina was British and something of a celebrity, whereas Harrison was an invading American who bought out British businesses and sold them in pieces. The lawyer wasn’t too positive about Harrison’s chances in British court, predicting that with any sort of proof of neglect on Harrison’s part, the judge could force him to sell off his assets so Kristina would get her share.

Harrison swiped at the wet trails on his face, tears escaping in anger and frustration. They’d never been in love, Kristina and he, a fact they had both always acknowledged, but he’d thought the marriage was convenient for them both. He had a gorgeous socialite to hang on his arm when business demanded, and enough money to keep her occupied while he worked. His work was his life. Having Kristina at home saved him the trouble of finding companionship on the rare occasions he wanted it, and she’d always welcomed his attentions. She’d never made a peep of protest about anything until just a few weeks ago.

He was, for lack of a better word, blindsided.

Harrison slowed the car as he entered a darker patch of woods, steering the vehicle around the sharper cuts into the hillside. He’d never been much of a husband. And now he’d pay for it.

His heart broke at the thought of losing his home here in England. Here, he’d finally found peace. A place to get away from the business that pervaded every bit of his life, from the frustration and anger, from the deep loneliness and despair he fought more and more frequently.

Without Failand Forests, Harrison thought he might as well just be dead.

A loud snap and exploding sound shocked him, and he had to jerk the car back toward the road as a tire blew out – nearly sending the Boxster careening down into the ravine. He managed to slow the car down, coming to a stop just around the next curve.

Harrison swallowed hard after putting the car into park and raised his eyes heavenward. “Is this a sign?” he murmured despairingly. When no answer was forthcoming, he groaned and got out of the car into the dusk to check the tire.

It was completely shredded and would have to be replaced before he could go anywhere. Annoyed, he went to the trunk to pull out the spare tire and jack set, as well as a large flashlight. He could call into town and have the office send a car, he knew, but it would take longer than changing the tire himself.

“It would be getting dark. It’s been such a perfect day.”

Half an hour later he squatted next to the replaced tire. He shook his head, looking down at the mess of rubber on the road lit by the propped-up flashlight. Hearing an engine, he glanced up only to be blinded by oncoming headlights – knee-jerk reflexes had him throwing himself against the Boxster. He bashed his head against the door as the passing vehicle swerved wildly, sending the flashlight skidding, and missing him by less than a foot before disappearing around the corner into the dark.

Holding his head, Harrison looked up at the sky where the moon was shrouded in clouds. “Okay, okay! I get the message! Really!”

As if in direct answer, he heard the shriek of tires and a muffled crash.

Harrison’s eyes grew wide as he fought the dizzy spell from hitting his head. But the sharp pain echoing in his skull sent him into darkness, and he slumped against the car.

 

Harrison groaned as he came to. It was dark, and he was disoriented, so he lay still on the cold ground, trying to remember what had happened. It all came back to him in a flash – the upset, the flat tire, the car that almost hit him, the noise of the crash…

Harrison managed to get to his feet and leaned on the car as his dizziness passed. He saw the flashlight out in the road, still beaming, so he grabbed it before climbing into the car. “I hope whoever they are, they’re not having as bad a day as I am.”

In just a couple minutes and three hairpin curves, Harrison found one vehicle sideways in the road. He pulled out his cell and made a call to emergency services, reporting the crash. While on hold for a triangulation, Harrison left his car and approached the mashed one. The headlights cast into the trees, and more lights flickered inside. He could hear the muffled “ding dong” of the open door warning. When Harrison leaned over to check the driver, he pulled back fast. The man stank of alcohol and was snoring loudly, apparently unhurt.

Harrison swore colorfully. “Bastard. If he killed somebody…” He turned around, looking. “Where’s the other car?”

Then he saw the gaping hole in the guardrail.

“Jesus Christ,” Harrison whispered. He ran over to the side of the hill and looked down into the ravine to see skewed headlights and the dark form of a car nose down the hill, caught against some hardy trees.

Swearing again, Harrison skidded back toward his car to grab the flashlight and started down the steep hill into the ravine. Still hanging onto the cell phone, he clung to the trees with the crooks of his elbows along the way to keep from falling over and sliding down through the brush.

The driver’s side of the sleek sports car was up in the air. That door was gone, and as Harrison carefully climbed around, he saw the shattered windshield broken out of the frame. 

“Damn, they got hit hard,” he whispered before making his way around to the passenger side.

Using the flashlight and peering into the car, he saw a blond man slumped over in the seat, blood on his temple from an impact blow to the side. The airbag was deployed, propping the man up despite the hard angle of the car. Harrison pulled open the door and touched the man’s chest, feeling a slight rise and fall. When the responder came back on the line, reporting that a rescue truck and police were on the way, Harrison told him about the man he found alive and that the driver appeared to be missing.

Harrison left the man in the car and climbed laboriously back up the hill before setting down the cell phone, leaving the line open as instructed. Glancing around, he saw an emergency pack spilled out across the road, likely from the drunk’s car – it looked like he had hit the sports car head on and bounced back against the hillside, popping the trunk and sending things flying.

Grabbing the first aid kit, Harrison headed back down into the ravine, planning to use some gauze or something to try to stop the bleeding. Even with the flashlight and moonlight filtering through the trees, he lost his footing partway down the hill, thumping to his side with a rush of air and starting to slide. He caught a glimpse of flashing lights as he turned and tumbled. The rescue had arrived – only now he was going to need help, too.

Hissing painfully as he fell a good hundred feet past the car in a rush, Harrison careened on his side and splashed into a hidden, cold stream that ran through the bottom of the crevice. He managed to sit up, sodden and groaning.

“Need a hand?”

Piers stepped out of the woods after following the sound of something crashing through the brush. He emerged from the branches just in time to see Harrison hit the water, and despite his earlier fright, he smiled a little. He had chuckled slightly before speaking.

Harrison started violently, turning in the water to look behind him, seeing a slim, light-haired man not too far away. “Where? Who? Hey, are you from the car?” Those flashing lights seemed awfully far up the hill.

Piers nodded. “Yeah, I was trying to get out of the woods to find some help. I lost my mobile in the wreck.” He shrugged, hoping this man would know the way to town. Gerard needed help.

Harrison nodded, noting the other man’s cultured British accent. “I called emergency services; the other man’s still breathing.”

Piers relaxed visibly before closing his eyes tiredly. “Thank God. Gerard’s hurt. I’d have a fit if he died. I feel bad enough about him getting hurt as it is.” He remembered his friend’s palpable cry as the car came out of nowhere. There had been no time to react, much less anywhere to go.

Harrison raised his eyebrows. “You’re both alive. That’s the important thing. Are you hurt?”

Piers shook his head, looking down at himself. “I don’t think so.”

Harrison nodded. Both men looked up into the darkness as they heard the engines trundle away. “That was fast. I hope that’s good news. Come on, I’ll take you to town so you can see your friend,” Harrison said. “You should probably get checked at the hospital, too, just in case.”

Piers wrapped his arms around himself and nodded. “All right. Thanks.” He thought better of his action and offered the man in the water a hand up. “What’s your name?”

“Harrison Holden. You?” he replied as he clambered to his feet.

Piers looked at the American before him. He almost looked like a British businessman in his suit, although it was very mussed after his trip down the hillside. “Piers Claybrook. Nice to meet you, especially considering.”

Harrison snorted. “Come on.”

They took their time climbing up the hill, and Piers stopped to stare at the broken windshield before continuing after Harrison. “How far to town?” Piers asked. He thought about Gerard, who’d hit his head in the crash, and his heart sped up with worry.

“Well, town is about 20 miles south, and the hospital is beyond that. It’ll take a little while because of the narrow road.”

Piers went quiet. He knew about the road. Before long they were in the Boxster, and the light-haired man watched the woodlands pass by as the car wound toward town. Harrison was quiet next to him, although he knew the man was stealing occasional glances.

Probably afraid you’re going into shock, Piers told himself as he fought down the shakes. He’s probably right. Piers took in a deep breath, trying to get events from the crash right in his head. He’d have to tell the police what happened, he was sure. He closed his eyes, but then he saw the ground and trees rushing up to meet him as the car had crashed down. He opened them with a short gasp.

Harrison watched Piers carefully, concerned about him. He’s a beautiful man. Messy blond hair hit his collar, and he had high cheekbones, full lips, bottomless brown eyes… Harrison blinked and pulled his attention back to the road as a wave of desire hit his gut. He took a breath, shocked. He hadn’t been attracted to a man for many years and the bald fact of it in this crazy situation was even more shocking. Here the man’s been through a life-threatening event, and all you can think about is how well he fills out his jeans?

He gritted his teeth and tightened his hands on the steering wheel. Get ahold of yourself, man. Harrison didn’t get a chance to further pick apart his response to the young man as he turned into the hospital lot, parking the car. It had been almost an hour. The two men climbed out and headed inside the emergency entrance.

Piers walked toward the nurse’s station, Harrison following. He stopped at the desk, but the nurse didn’t look up from her computer. “Excuse me? I’m looking for Gerard Brison? From the car crash up in the woods?”

Harrison frowned when the nurse didn’t answer. He glanced at Piers, who looked as if he were about to start yelling. “Hello?”

The nurse looked up at him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”

Piers simply gaped at her, and Harrison’s frown grew deeper. He shook his head. “We’re looking for Gerard Brison. From the car crash? I’m the one who called it in.”

The nurse stood, nodding. “The police told me you might show up. Mr. Holden, is it? Follow me.”

Piers sighed in annoyance, and Harrison raised an eyebrow as the nurse walked by. They trailed along behind her through white hallways and stopped in front of a door. “Here you go.” She left quietly.

The two men looked at one another, then Piers looked in the door, nodding. “It’s Gerard’s ex-wife and daughter in there. I’ll wait until they’re done, they seem to be talking.” Harrison was confused when a doctor walked out, brushing right past them with a muttered “Excuse me” to Harrison. Piers didn’t seem to notice, intent on watching the women in Gerard’s room.

Piers’s heart was pounding, but he already felt better. Gerard was okay – at least it seemed like it. Annie and Lacey aren’t crying or anything, so he must be okay.

Harrison watched the doctor walk about 20 yards down the hall and open a door, calling out, “Samantha Claybrook?”

Piers’s head snapped about quickly. “Sam?”

“Who’s Sam?” Harrison asked, as he walked up behind Piers, thinking he hadn’t seen a ring on the other man’s hand. Then he silently berated himself for having noticed the lack.

“My older sister,” Piers said, walking down the hall. A dark-headed woman followed the doctor further down the hall before disappearing through another door.

“Sam!” Piers called, jogging down the hall to catch them. Harrison followed, not sure if he should intrude.

“Sam?” Piers walked through the open door and stopped next to his sobbing sister. He pushed down growing anger when she didn’t say anything, looking at her just standing there, red-faced and crying, as the doctor pulled back the sheet on a draped table.

Harrison reached the door soon after. The first thing he saw was Piers’s stunned face. Then he saw the crying woman and the stoic doctor. Then he looked at the table.

And saw Piers there. White and still.

Then all Harrison saw was darkness.

READ THE NEXT EXCERPT