Chapter 22 #2
I was right? What was the catch? I didn’t move. I didn’t breathe. I braced for him to deliver a blow that would leave me a shriveling mess. I’d gone for the gusto, but the truth was, I didn’t have the energy to keep it up. That outburst had dried up my reserves.
Things had just been . . . hard. Much too hard. And damn it, I was exhausted.
“Sorry,” he whispered to the floor.
I blinked. “What?”
“Sorry,” Dash said, louder this time, making eye contact.
“Okay.” I gave him a sideways glance. What was happening? Was that a real apology?
“I loved my mom.”
“I loved mine too.”
Dash nodded, then turned, the conversation over. But before he got too far, he spun back again. “I’m angry at Dad.”
“So am I. But don’t take it out on me.”
“He’s not here. He did this for me. To save me so I could meet my son.” Dash’s voice cracked. And I saw, behind the anger, the regret that was torturing him. He hadn’t made amends with Draven. And now Draven was gone.
Dash swallowed hard. “Xander will never know his grandfather.”
A tear worked free and dripped down my cheek. “No, he won’t.”
Dash gritted his teeth and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, he had himself under control.
I wished I could say the same. The tears fell freely down my face. No amount of blinking could keep them from dropping.
Dash was blurry as he stepped closer. Three long strides and my brother was hugging me, squishing me to his chest. Shocked by the change, it took me a moment to hug him back. Then my arms found their way around his back.
The embrace didn’t last long, seconds really, but in that moment, I didn’t feel quite so alone.
Then he was gone. Without another word, Dash let me go and walked back to Bryce’s room like his boots were on fire.
Isaiah came and put his hands around my shoulders as I swiped at my cheeks, drying the tears. “Come on, doll. Let’s get out of here.”
I sniffled as we rode the elevator to the ground floor.
I used every moment of the drive home to pull myself together.
I feared that once we were inside the apartment, I’d break apart.
The hold I had on my emotions was by the fingertips, at best. But when we walked into the apartment and I kicked off my shoes, I felt something I hadn’t since the night Tucker had delivered Draven’s letter.
Peace.
I walked to the bed, sat on the side and opened the nightstand drawer. I took out the letter and ran my fingers over the black script.
“He loved us. That’s why he did it.”
“Yeah.” Isaiah sat at my side with an arm around my shoulders.
“I wish it hadn’t come to this.”
We’d told the world that Draven had killed himself. Even Presley thought his death was suicide. Everyone believed the story that Dash had found Draven at home, swinging from a rope.
No one doubted it, not even the police. The world saw Draven as a coward, a man who’d taken his own life instead of facing the verdict he’d been about to receive.
None of us knew what their verdict would have been.
The truth was, Tucker had killed Draven. He’d hung him inside Draven’s own home. Then he’d delivered my letter, followed by the others.
Dash had been the one to find Draven’s body, so at least that part was true.
Draven had already staged a suicide note.
“Will life ever be normal?” I whispered.
“For us? Probably not.”
I closed my eyes and fell into Isaiah’s embrace.
He wound both arms around me, holding me as I breathed in the smell of his shirt and soaked in the warmth of his arms. I ran my hands up his back, then let them sink down, lower and lower.
My fingers wandered between us, trailing down one of his thighs.
I tipped up my chin, finding his colorful eyes waiting, those swirls darkened with every skipping heartbeat. Then his lips dropped to mine and all was lost.
My worries. My fears.
My heart.
He captured them all with the sweep of his tongue.
We undressed each other, both tossing clothes to the floor as we moved deeper into the bed. Isaiah and I hadn’t been together in weeks. Not since . . . before.
We were a mess of kisses and desperation. My hands explored his abs and his firm chest, remembering what it felt like to have his hot skin under my palms. His fingers dug into my spine as they made their way lower to cup and squeeze my ass.
We collided, two people who needed to get lost in a feeling other than grief.
Isaiah laid me on the bed, giving me his weight as his cock nestled between my legs. He paused, locking his eyes with mine. When I nodded, he sank deep, stretching and filling me to the point I was consumed.
My eyes were squeezed shut as he moved, in and out.
My hands held on to him with all the strength I had left as he rocked us together, over and over.
And then I let go, my orgasm building so fast and hard that I came on a silent scream.
A tear dripped down my temple. Isaiah kissed it away before he buried his face in my hair and shuddered through his own release.
We held together until he pulled out and shuffled us both under the covers. Then we found one another again. We didn’t drift apart. When many would have pulled away, the hurdles life had thrown at Isaiah and me only seemed to push us closer.
By all rights, I was free to leave Clifton Forge. I could walk away from this life and start fresh. But I’d never leave Isaiah. The life I’d planned to return to in Colorado wasn’t my dream anymore.
Isaiah was my dream.
He pulled me tight to his chest, kissing my forehead. “Why haven’t we been doing this?”
“Good question.” I giggled, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. I lifted up to see his face and what I saw stole my breath.
Isaiah smiled.
Not a grin. Not a turn of one corner of his lips. Not just the crinkles at his eyes. A full-blown, goddamn-my-husband-is-gorgeous smile. Straight, white teeth and everything.
It was a sight I’d never forget.
And I’d put that there. Me. The woman who’d planned to let the next in line have all the smiles.
What a fool. No one was taking Isaiah from me. There’d be no next in line. I was keeping him.
Because I was in love with my husband.
Draven must have known. Otherwise he wouldn’t have entrusted Isaiah with my heart. I hoped he’d found his peace. I hoped he’d reunited with his wife. I hoped that if he saw Mom, he’d tell her that I was okay.
Tears fell without my permission, blurring Isaiah’s smile. It disappeared altogether when he hugged me to his chest.
And he held me, all through the night, while I mourned the loss of my parents.
While I said my silent goodbyes.