Chapter 15
His chest rises and falls in a deep, steady rhythm of sleep. I can’t believe he’s in my bed.
Only a dim glow from the streetlamps outside lights the room. Maybe if I look at him long enough, I will tire of him, but my forlorn heart tells me I won’t.
“Bailey,” he whispers my name, almost reverently, warming me from the inside.
Gently, I caress his thick brows, then his high cheekbones, and along his sharp jaw. I want to hold on to him, but I can’t. He’s torn, fiercely protective of his demons, and shrouded in walls. The push and pull is our secret language, and we’re terrible at decoding it. We know how to get a rise out of each other and do it shamelessly. I won’t lie and say I am proud of that, but in those moments, he’s mine. For my hopelessly in love heart, that is better than nothing. While it didn’t surprise me that he would retreat after the best night of my life, his coming to my bed willingly the next night did.
When I saw those deep circles lining his eyes, something in me caved—his well-being outweighed mine. All my plans to stay away for just one day to build a wall around my heart came crashing down with one look at him.
I close my eyes, savoring the knowledge of him lying beside me. I don’t know what we are—like he said, we just are. It’s enough for now. Who knows what the future will bring? It’s one reason I wanted him to be my first.
He drags me to his chest, his arm and leg draped over my body, holding me captive in his strength. I don’t make a sound, not wanting to wake him and risk losing that delicious warmth beside me.
Sighing contently, I fall asleep, embracing this magical night. But a low grunt wakes me, and I feel his body thrashing next to me.
Panicked, I scoot up, and what I see breaks my heart. A layer of sweat covers Hunter’s body, his brows bunched together, pure pain twisting his face as he tosses on the mattress.
I reach out and touch him, gently pulling him from his nightmare. “I’m here. I have you.”
He opens his mouth, and my heart tumbles to my stomach. “No. Alice, no.”
That name—I know that name. But the vehemence with which he says “no” has me trying to tear him away from the clutches of that nightmare, shaking him awake.
When he finally opens his eyes, flashing with disorientation, I barely hold on to my tears. His subconscious must be trying to work out something he refuses to acknowledge. I hold him tight to me. “It was just a nightmare.”
“Did I say something?” he asks, voice so cold and distant that my body stiffens. With his eyes focused on me, he catches that.
“What did I say?”
“You said, ‘No. Alice, no,’” I recount.
“Fuck.” He rolls out of bed as if he can’t bear to be near me. It pains me so much that I palm my chest to ease the hurting organ it’s supposed to protect. Tears spring in my eyes.
Running both hands through his hair, he dresses quickly and hurries out.
“What happened to you?” I ask in the empty room.
Sleep eludes me, so I give up trying and return to digitizing the Family archive. My focus is scattered, making it a slow process to sort through the gold inventory. When my alarm rings, I get ready for the day and pack my laptop.
The girls are in the kitchen, preparing breakfast, but they all stop when they see me.
“Morning,” I say, grabbing a banana, though I don’t feel hungry.
“Remind me again about your relationship with Alice,” I say to Mia, who eyes me quizzically.
“She was my mom’s best friend, the one who stepped in after Mom died. Why?”
“Just curious. So, were you close?”
“Hunter was closer to her.”
“I think he had a crush on her. All the girls he messed around with had something in common with her,” Celine says.
As jealousy poisons my veins, I can’t shake the memory of Hunter calling out Alice’s name in his sleep, his voice filled with unmistakable pain. I pull out my phone and Google her again. She’s beautiful and elegant, with sun-kissed skin, brown hair, and eyes. Nothing like me. Is that his type? Because he couldn’t have her, he was with girls who looked similar.
My mind is all over the place as we head to class. While the girls chat about the upcoming vacation, I’m stuck on Hunter. My classes drag, and even my media technology professor, who usually favors me, gives me an annoyed look when I fail to pay attention.
To make things worse, Eric is waiting for me when class ends. The last person I want to deal with, but I plaster a smile on my face anyway.
“You looked distracted. Could it be because of me?” He smirks, looking so damn proud of himself.
“You’re getting ahead of yourself,” I grit out, tired of setting boundaries.
He places a hand on his chest in mock hurt. “Any plans for tonight?”
“Yeah, spending it with my friends.”
“Will Hunter be there?”
“Hunter will always be there,” I say, unable to hold back.
Something malicious flashes in his eyes before he masks it. “Should I be worried?”
“Look, Eric, I am not ready for a relationship, nor do I want one. All I can offer you is friendship.”
Crap, I still need to record his voice and redirect his calls to help us find Felix. Maybe I should have waited.
“I can work with that.”
Nothing seems to deter this guy.
“Any plans for spring break?” he asks.
“I’ll spend it at the Family estate.”
“Can I come visit as a friend?”
I won’t be there. Despite criticizing the idea of a vacation, it now seems like a good plan. I need a break from this whole Felix mess.
There haven’t been more attacks. Maybe Caleb’s death disrupted Felix’s plans, but I doubt he just gave up.
“I’ll let you know.”
Satisfied, he accompanies me home, chatting away as I secretly record his voice. At the door, he leans in for a kiss, but I offer my cheek, lingering longer than I’d like. I turn and rush inside.
The house is quiet as I program Eric’s voice into the mirroring app.
I am about to head to the swimming pool when my phone rings. I almost drop it when I see who it is—my mother.
I am inclined to let it go to voicemail, but I am curious about what she wants now.
“Mother?”
“What took you so long?”
I am not dignifying her question with an answer. I am so over this pretend bullshit.
After she inhales deeply as if it’s a damn chore to talk to me, she says, “Your father and I talked. We came up with an idea to benefit all of us.”
“And that would be?”
“You’re going to marry someone who could lead the company while you entertain your little project.”
“My little project will make sure no one gets close to us,” I say through gritted teeth, my patience wavering.
“Whatever. It’s Cassandra who is not equipped for her role,” she huffs, her displeasure clear.
“And who would lead the Family better?”
“It’s irrelevant now. Everything is her fault anyway. We’ll tell you more about your future husband when we find time to meet for dinner.”
“I can’t wait.”
“Don’t use that tone with me.”
“Mother, let’s not waste time. I’m not planning on getting married anytime soon.”
Her screech of indignation nearly deafens me. “Listen, you brat. I could have lost everything because of you. The least you could do is this one favor.”
“A favor? Marrying someone of your choosing sounds like more than a favor to me.” I’m proud of myself for holding my ground. Sometimes I could barely open my mouth in their presence, terrified of saying something wrong. It didn’t matter, though. Nothing ever seemed to make them like me.
“Arranged marriages have kept the Family strong. Just because those pricks you call friends abandoned that tradition doesn’t mean your father and I will do the same.”
It’s astounding that she thinks I’ll accept being married off. I’m sure there must be more, so I don’t refuse right away. I need to find out what they’re up to. After a lifetime of ignoring my presence, needing my help breeds distrust.
“Okay, Mother. Let’s discuss this plan of yours over dinner.”
With two hours before Hunter’s training starts, I head to the basement and open the door to the pool—a haven for my kind of relaxation. The sharp scent of chlorine hits my nostrils, and the gentle lapping of the water soothes me. Tossing my bathrobe aside, I put on my goggles and cap, diving in with arms outstretched.
Swimming has always calmed me, helped me organize my thoughts. But today, there are too many to sort through. Eric, Felix, my parents. And Hunter—the one person I can’t stop thinking about.
I swim until my arms and legs ache. Hunter will be so damn pleased when I can’t give my all later because I overexert myself in the pool. I already expect him to be grumpy.
Pulling myself up the railing, I grab a towel and dry off, then head to my room for a shower. Nothing shakes this funk.
I put on leggings and a tank top. As I pull my hair into a high ponytail, I notice a small hickey. A mix of longing and sadness envelops me. There won’t be a new one. While I hoped we made progress last night, it vanished when I told him the truth. I should have lied. But I wanted him to trust me, to feel safe with me. Look how much that helped. Hunter is a lone wolf. No wonder I, a recluse, understood that. Similarities bind people.
As I descend the stairs, my friends walk through the front door. Celine and Kaden, Abigail and Dane, Mia and Blake—they’re all in love. Three couples who would do anything for their partners. How I wish I had that. Someone to call mine. Someone who would love me.
Pushing that notion aside, as I’m perfectly fine on my own, I greet them as I head to the basement.
Blake grins. “Kick his ass.”
Mia elbows him playfully. “Hey, that’s my twin.”
“How could I forget that, Silver?” he grumbles, sweeping her into a kiss.
Abi giggles at whatever Dane whispers, and Kaden gathers Celine in his arms. “No interruptions for the next hour.”
There’s a collective groan, but he ignores them.
I push open the gym door to find Hunter taping his hands. He jerks his chin at the rolls on the table. No greeting.
Sighing, I bandage my hands. When he comes over to check my work, his criticism is immediate. “Tighter. I thought we went through this already.”
“Right? Because if I ever get into a fight, my opponent will let me tape my hands and wrists.” I slap a palm on my forehead for dramatic effect.
I notice him struggling to suppress his amusement, his lips twisting in an almost smile before he presses them into a flat line.
“We can go bare then.” His tone casual, but there’s an undercurrent there.
That word sends a current of electricity straight between my thighs, and I clench them instinctively.
“Stop thinking about that.”
I jerk my chin at him, purely to provoke. “How do you know what I was thinking? Maybe you’re the one thinking about it.”
He tapes my hands himself, muttering, “Impossible.”
Look who’s talking. He’s no better. Thoroughly mad at him, I’ll show him. I might pass out from exhaustion, but anything to forget my troubles for a moment.
I even manage to hit him twice, in the jaw and shoulder. Do I get praise? No. Instead, he pushes me further. He’s a tough-love kind of teacher.
“Is that all you’ve got? Am I wasting my time, Bailey? A feather could hurt me more than your punch.”
My blood boils, and I focus on finding an opening. I’ll show you a feather, jerk. Shuffling from foot to foot, I fake a frontal attack, then sidestep and deliver a solid punch under his ribs.
He coughs, stumbling back a step.
“What was that again?” I ask, batting my lashes.
“Luck?” He arches a brow, and it’s too much. My breakdown is long overdue.
“I’ll never be good enough, will I?”
“Bailey, in here, there’s no room for pity. You won’t get any from me,” he says firmly.
It’s not pity I want from him. Damn him. Damn my feelings.
Tears blur my vision. “I can fight and fight, but you’re never satisfied. I did my best there—I thought you’d be proud.”
His stony features soften. “Fuck. I’m sorry, okay? That’s enough for today.”
“Why are you like this?” I push at his chest. “I knew you’d turn into an asshole. I knew it. What did I do wrong? Tell me.”
A haunted expression slides over his face. “Don’t. Don’t go there.”
I sway on my feet, and with a right hook, I send it straight into his gut. I can’t stop—hitting him everywhere I can. In a violent haze, I need an outlet, only to realize he isn’t defending or attacking me. I take a step back, realizing what I did. I’m about to go to him, apologize, and be mad at him for letting me go this far, but he stretches out his palm and stops me.
The rejection smashes my heart into bloodied, battered pieces under a steel fist.
“We’re done for today.”
He grunts and is about to tear the tape off when I run my mouth. I can’t stop the word vomit—I just want to be around him a bit longer. I am truly pathetic.
“My parents want to marry me off. You’ll be off the hook,” I blurt out.
He gets in my face, gripping my chin. “What the fuck did you say?”
“I’m thinking of accepting,” I say seriously. Someday, I may have to. Duty and sacrifice go hand in hand in the Family.
I’ve never seen that look on his face. His features clench so hard, rooting me to the spot. I should have kept my mouth shut.
“Hunter.” My voice catches in my throat, and I swallow hard.
“I think it’s a wonderful idea.”
“What?”
“You’re so desperate for love. Maybe he will give you that. Good luck, Bailey.”
My heart plummets like a damp, tear-soaked rag hitting the floor at his feet.
He yanks at the tape, the strips falling to the floor, limp and lifeless, just like my spirit.
“You’re a damn coward. You know, just like I do, there’s something between us.”
“Or it could be that I just don’t want you,” he says coldly.
The weight of his rejection crushes me, and I can barely stay upright. Of course, he doesn’t want me. The people I’ve wanted love from never gave it. Why would he be the exception?