Chapter Thirty-Seven – Bradford
I didn’t think anyone would jump through all the hoops necessary to get me home, but the last person I would ever expect to do something like that turns out to be the one person who did: Pax Alabaster.
Sorry, Pax Chase.
Somehow, after only two weeks, I’m released into his custody. He’ll take me back home, where I will serve out the rest of my house arrest like nothing happened.
Like I didn’t break said house arrest on purpose to kill my own father.
Granted, I didn’t break it to purposefully kill him; my only goal at the time was to save Kayla from him, to stop him from hurting her.
I didn’t think I’d kill him, but now that I can think clearly, when I go back to that day, everything is a hazy blur.
The one and only clear thing is Kayla herself.
It has been ungodly difficult to be away from her these past two weeks. I could have no personal visitors where I was held, but I heard about what happened with her brother and Hayden through Pax, so I understand they’ve both had other things to deal with, regardless.
But today I’m going home. Today I’m going back to that house, and Pax is driving me.
Neither of us say anything during the drive.
Hell, neither of us speak even as we pull into the driveway.
I don’t say a word as he activates my ankle monitor on the front steps of the house.
It’s only when Pax straightens up, turns around, and heads back to his vehicle that I finally break my silence, and I do it by speaking only a single word.
“Why?”
Pax stops, and he’s slow in turning around. There’s maybe fifteen or so feet between us, but I can feel the intensity in his gaze. It’s clear he still doesn’t like me, and I don’t blame him for that, but it does leave me puzzled as to why he’s helping me in the first place.
His reply to me is short, sweet, and to the point: “Because I like Hayden, and my girl told me to.”
“Why would Raeka tell you to help me?”
“You can thank Kayla for that. She won my girl over.” He looks away before he admits this next part, “Plus, if Hayden’s taken a liking to you, you can’t be all bad. He’s a good one. Better than me, at least.”
And Pax is better than me, but I don’t say that aloud. Instead, I tell him, “Thank you.”
“Don’t thank me yet. You still have to prove yourself, as far as I’m concerned. Don’t hurt that omega, Bradford, otherwise I’ll come for you and rip you apart.” A threat that’s more of a promise, but one that is wholly unnecessary.
“I would never hurt her.”
His gaze returns to me, and though it’s clear he still distrusts me, he accepts my answer for what it is. “Good. I’m sure Hayden will keep an eye on you, too. For the record, don’t hurt him, either.” He leaves it at that, returning to his car and driving away, all without looking back.
I watch him go, and only when his car is no longer in sight do I turn toward the front door of the house.
A sigh escapes me, and I can’t stop my shoulders from sagging a bit.
The door is unlocked, allowing me free entry, and as I step inside the house for the first time in what feels like forever, I’m suddenly full of conflict.
I have to stay here until my sentence is up—thankfully the house arrest wasn’t prolonged thanks to Pax’s intervention—but after that, I think I’d like to move.
Sell this house, sell off the company. I don’t need Alpha Life or the stress it carries, nor do I need anything that reminds me of my father.
Ironically, even though I killed him, since it was a justifiable homicide and I am his only legal heir, everything goes to me. Everything. The entire fortune, the rest of the company, even his house. I have two houses to get rid of.
Both should be demolished, frankly.
I wander through the house until I find bloodstains in the upper hallway upstairs, near my bedroom, and in my room I find another stain on the floor, along with on the wood of the door.
It was in my room that it happened. I try to picture the scene as if it was happening right in front of me all over again, but I can’t.
No matter how hard I try, I simply cannot imagine Kayla killing anyone, even with a gun.
But she did. She did. She held her own and though I wasn’t there, I’m proud of her. It took her far less years to reach her breaking point when it came to her abuser. Waiting forty-five years isn’t something I recommend.
I don’t know how long I stand there, but it’s a while before I go to shower and throw on a fresh suit; I was wearing the one I wore when I killed my father. Let’s just say inmate orange isn’t my color.
Eventually I end up downstairs, standing just outside the room with the locks on the hall side of the door. I don’t step inside the room; I don’t need to.
So many bad things happened in this house, but I’d be blind if I didn’t admit that one good thing happened here.
Kayla.
And Hayden, I suppose, but mostly Kayla.
I heave what must be my millionth sigh of the day as I wander to my office and sit down. I lean forward and bring my hands to my face, leaning my elbows on my desk. The house is so damn quiet, it doesn’t feel right. It’s never felt right, as a home should, but it feels even worse now.
I’ll have to hire cleaners for the blood upstairs and maybe a contractor to redo that bedroom downstairs.
I don’t want to live here while seeing those locks anymore.
Now that my father is dead, it isn’t as if he can stop me from doing whatever I want to the place while I still have it in my possession.
Hell, maybe once I find a new place, I’ll simply have this house demolished.
I’m so caught up in my thoughts that I neglect to realize someone else is here. I don’t even pick up his scent until his voice jerks me out of my mind and causes me to glance at the door to see him standing there.
“Back at work already? Sheesh, you must have a hard-on for emails or something.” Hayden stands under the archway of the door, wearing an easy grin. “Here I thought we’d check on you, but if you’re too busy working—”
As he rambles on, I catch wind of her. Through the stale air of the room, I can pick up Kayla’s rose and almond scent, and I instantly sit a little straighter.
Hayden notes the change in my demeanor, and he chuckles and steps aside, revealing a hidden Kayla as he says, “We wanted to be here when you got back to surprise you, but there was an accident on Fifth Street, so we had to take a detour and then—”
Again, I tune him out, although this time I manage to get to my feet.
Kayla stands there, her hands hanging limply at her sides.
Though it’s only been two weeks, she looks different.
Healthier. Her cheeks are more rounded, her reddish-brown hair more full of life and volume.
Even her lips seem to be plumper. Her skin has a glow to it, or maybe she’s always had that glow and I never noticed because I was too busy wallowing in my self-pity.
But not now. I can’t wallow any more.
“Hi,” she says, her voice gentle. Her mouth curls into a slow smile, and I am caught in her web, just like that. There’s no other place I’d rather be caught, no other web I’d rather be on.
I move around my desk and go to her, overcoming my dislike of physical touch just as I did the day I saved her from my father. I sweep her into my arms and pull her against me, and as I wrap my arms around her, she hugs me in return.
Having her in my arms again is like coming home, like I’ve found where I belong after all these long, lonely years. I never want to let her go. I want to breathe her in and memorize every little detail. A part of me genuinely thought this day would never come.
We’re locked like that for a while, with me holding onto her and her holding onto me… until the other person in the room deadpans, “How sweet. It’s almost like she got shot or something and you thought you might never see her again. Oh, wait.”
I don’t loosen my hold on Kayla, but I do turn my head toward Hayden and ask, “Would you like me to hold you like this, too?”
“It might be nice, but nah,” he says. “We can save that for later. Something for us both to look forward to.”
I can’t help it; I groan and roll my eyes at him. Even now, after all we’ve been through, he’s making jokes. I suppose I should thank him for being there for Kayla when I couldn’t be, but the girl in my arms has my mind so discombobulated that the words don’t come out.
Kayla angles her head up at me, those green eyes of hers more vibrant than ever. “I’m so glad you’re here,” she whispers, and then she bites her bottom lip in what must be the most tempting expression I’ve ever seen in my life. “I was worried we wouldn’t be able to see you for a long time.”
Two weeks was long enough, so long it might as well have been an eternity. I do not regret what I did, but I do regret that it took me away from her. Indeed, those fourteen days might as well have been decades for how long they felt at the time.
I move one of my arms so that I can run my fingers along the edge of her face and tuck some of her hair behind her ear. Once I do that, I run those fingers down her jawline, all the way down to her mouth, a mouth that I remember vividly. A mouth I want again.
I want all of her. A bizarre thing for me to admit, being someone who was never interested in anyone like that before.
Those urges, those primal, innate, animalistic things, never quite surfaced inside me before thanks to my upbringing.
But here and now… with my father gone, with her brother out of the picture, there isn’t anything or anyone to hold me back.
My thumb runs over her bottom lip, and I bend my top half down and bring my mouth to hers. Those lips are just as sweet, soft, and supple as I remember them, and knowing no one is going to come and tear us apart makes it even better.