Chapter Six – Hayden #2
Kayla takes another small sip from the glass, and right then Bradford appears, holding onto an empty mug.
His face is unreadable, but the moment he sees us together, he frowns.
“I asked for more coffee,” he says, moving to stand on the other side of the big island and setting down his empty mug. “What the hell is going on?”
She tries to smooth things over, acting meek and subservient when she ducks her head and tries to slide off the stool she’s sitting on. “I’m sorry, I—”
I stop her from getting up, deciding to take matters into my own hands, even though it might come to bite me in the ass later. I say, “I found her in the hallway. She needed a break.”
Bradford studies her and the glass of water before her. I can’t tell if he believes it or not. “A break from what? From all the hard manual labor you do for me during the day?” His tone, as emotionless as it is, is still mocking, and I don’t appreciate it one bit.
Knowing she’s too meek to say something, I tell him again, firmer this time, “She needed a break.” Then I remember who this asshole is, and I add quietly, “Sir.” Really don’t want to piss him off too badly.
“Looks like your legs work, though. Since you’re already here, you can get your own coffee this time. ”
He is clearly not amused by me or my words. He leans both his hands on the countertop of the island, glaring at me from a few feet away. He’s an über alpha; he should radiate dominance and power. The strength should ooze out of his every pore and make everyone around him obedient.
But it doesn’t. None of that is true. It’s like, he’s standing over there, posturing, and yet his heart really isn’t in it. It’s like he doesn’t give a shit either way. He doesn’t care enough to try.
Hmm. Not at all what I was expecting from him, if I’m honest. With his crimes, I assumed he’d be the king of all assholes, but anytime I’ve seen or spoken to him, the only vibe I get off him is one that says I don’t care about anything.
And not in the rich, spoiled way. No, I don’t think he literally cares about anything.
“You’re awfully protective of her,” Bradford remarks. “Do you two know each other?”
“Nope,” I say. “We just met yesterday.”
The sound he makes after that tells me he doesn’t believe me, though I don’t know why. Why the hell would we know each other? Such an odd thing to be suspicious of.
Kayla slides off the stool, moving away from me this time, so I can’t stop her from getting to her own two feet.
“It’s fine. I can grab you the coffee.” She slowly moves around the island, and when she nears Bradford, he takes a large step back, giving her a wide berth as she reaches for the coffee cup.
But I can’t let it go. I say, “It’s not fine.
You were in the hall, lightheaded. You couldn’t remember what you were supposed to do.
Something is clearly wrong.” As I say that, I get a strange reaction from our lovely boss.
His mouth turns into a frown, and he looks at her as if he’s appraising her in a new light.
And not a good light.
Kayla glares at me. “I told you I’m fine.” This next part she says to Bradford: “I’m okay. I can handle the job. Please don’t think otherwise.” I think both Bradford and I can hear what she’s not explicitly saying.
She needs the job. She can’t be fired.
A situation like this would probably get her fired in most other circumstances, but then again, if this was a normal day and Bradford was a normal, rich entitled asshole, he wouldn’t be on house arrest to begin with. Nothing about this is normal. I think we all need to remember that.
Bradford mutters, “I’ll be in my office. Bring me the coffee when you’re finished with… whatever this is.” He doesn’t say a word more as he walks away.
Both Kayla and I watch him go, and only when he’s out of sight does she turn those eyes to me and ask, “What the hell is your problem? Are you trying to get me fired?”
I’m taken aback by her straightforward questioning. “No, I’m not.”
“Well, it seems like you are. I don’t need you fighting my battles for me or playing a knight in shining armor. Whatever you think you’re going to get from me, you’re going to be disappointed when you realize you won’t get it.”
“I’m not doing any of this to get something from you.”
The look she gives me tells me she doesn’t believe me for a hot second.
I lean on the island. “I mean it. I just want to make sure you’re taking care of yourself. You look—”
“We met yesterday,” she reminds me, repeating what I just told Bradford. “You don’t know me or my situation. I take care of myself the best I can, okay? I don’t need you coming in and acting like you know what’s best for me when you don’t. You don’t know me.”
I can’t argue with her, even though I want to. I want to tell her, I might not know you, but I want to. I wanted to know you the moment I saw you on the side of the street, ever since you got into my truck. I want to know you more than anyone on this planet.
Which, if I take a step back and think about it, is absolutely insane. She’s right: I don’t know her or her situation. This job might be her last hope for something, and she’ll obviously do anything to keep it. I don’t want to jeopardize it for selfish reasons I don’t understand.
I’m not a selfish person. I like to think I’m a good guy. I wouldn’t have the position I have if I was bad. But, of course, I can’t tell her any of that, because that would blow my cover.
I’m here to watch Bradford, not take care of his new assistant.
So, in the end, I tell her the only thing I can: “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… to upset you or anything like that. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.” I push off the counter. “I’ll leave you alone.”
I walk away from her, and she doesn’t stop me. Something deep inside aches, trying to get me to turn around and go back to the girl, but I ignore that instinct. If I want to last longer than a week here, I’m going to have to learn how to ignore all of my instincts when it comes to Kayla.
I slip on my boots and head back outside.
The rest of the day passes in a blur. I try my best not to think about the girl or how lost she looked in that hallway when I first found her, but I fail. She takes up residence in my thoughts like she should always be there, like she was always been a part of me and I never realized it before.
Seriously, it’s the strangest thing. It’s something I’ve never experienced. It’s like my inner beast has decided, just like that: Kayla is mine. She’s mine, even if she doesn’t know it.
That’s crazy, isn’t it? It’s crazy in more ways than one.
But it’s the only way I can accurately explain the way I’m feeling and how strong those feelings are. I’m losing my mind. I’ve never felt this way before in my life.
Time crawls by slowly thanks to the ever-present girl taking up my thoughts.
I try to focus on my work, but it’s damn hard, and when it’s quitting time, I pack everything up and hop in my truck.
I pull down the driveway. I’m seconds from leaving, from pulling out onto the street and heading home for the night.
Something stops me. I park the car at the mouth of the driveway and shut it off, leaning an arm out of the open window to my left.
It’s late afternoon. Time to go home. Time to wash off the day’s grime and unwind, but moving from this spot right now feels like it’d be as difficult for me as cutting off a limb would be.
Kayla is still in that house. I don’t know what time she leaves, whether it’s the same time each day or if it’s whenever Bradford dismisses her. What I do know is that she’s without a vehicle right now, so she walks.
How the hell that girl walks all those miles without losing consciousness is beyond me, and I frankly don’t like the thought of her walking any streets by herself.
She clearly doesn’t live around here. This is what you’d consider a safe neighborhood, recent kidnappings notwithstanding.
She has to live a good distance away. With how earnest and upset she was over me doing what I did earlier, I have to wonder if, perhaps, she isn’t well off at all. That she needs the money.
Does she even have a car? Is it really in the shop, or was that a lie she told me to get me off her back? Up until now, I assumed she was telling the truth, but now that I’m putting things together… what if it was just a lie?
What if she has to walk to and from this damn estate every single day because she doesn’t have a car to her name? That can’t be safe for someone of her size. Even an average, everyday beta could take advantage of her without breaking a sweat. It’s not safe for her to walk alone anywhere.
So I stay right where I am and wait, even though it’s probably a mistake. I’d rather have her get mad at me than ignore my instincts when it comes to Kayla. If something were to happen to her on one of her walks home… I don’t think I’d ever forgive myself.
I don’t know what time it is exactly when I see her walking down the driveway in my mirror, but I sit a little straighter and mentally prepare myself for what might be a fight.
Kayla has made it clear she does not like accepting any sort of help, and what I’m about to do…
it definitely falls under the umbrella of help.
The driveway is so long, it takes her a while to reach my truck, but once she does, she stops next to the driver’s side, near me.
She shoots me an annoyed glance and asks, “What the hell are you doing?” She’s less out of it than she was earlier, which is good, but I have the feeling that, once she starts walking and gets a few miles under her belt, that lucidness will change.
“Oh, you know, just hanging out,” I say with a grin. Normally my smiles disarm people. People tend to like me. It makes me good at my job. This girl, though… her walls are up and very, very sturdy.
Kayla purses her lips. “Just hanging out on your boss’s driveway? For fun?”