14. Chapter 14
Chapter fourteen
Hayden snatched his hand out from Grayson's grip. Not that Grayson cared. His sole focus was the wide and not-so-focused brown eyes staring up at him in shock. Gently, he pulled Golden to stand unsteadily next to him. She was drunk. The knowledge only angered him more, which was something in itself since he couldn't remember the last time he was this fucking angry.
"I texted you that picture thirty minutes ago," Joel stood up with a laugh. "It takes forty-five minutes to get here from Stardust. You must've been hauling ass."
That was an understatement, Grayson thought grimly. Seeing that photo of Golden's unsteady smile as Joel hugged her to him wearing a wolfish grin was enough to make him see red.
Before this, he never cared one way or another about the Three Heathens. Hell, on rare occasions he joined his brother in poker against them and even found himself enjoying it. The three young men had intriguing pasts, making them entertaining companions for a night out and a bit of harmless gambling. They were not, however, on good enough terms with him to let Golden in their midst.
The image of Joel's hand on her shoulder was burned into his mind and he couldn't help looking at the offending appendage now. He was highly considering breaking it.
As if sensing his thoughts, Joel ran a hand through his blond hair and gave him a taunting grin. "I was just trying to make sure you got your employee back in one piece," he said, stressing the word employee.
Grayson turned Golden toward the door and began to walk but Golden stopped and frowned up at him.
"I can't leave Lydia," she said, trying to step back from him.
Grayson only tightened his grip on her waist. Her bare waist. The mini skirt and equally small leather top stretched over her breasts did nothing at all to hide her figure from every man in the damn room. Every movement emphasized her hips and narrow waist. Combined with the sleepy, unfocused look in her eyes and the delicate flush to her cheeks—she looked good enough to eat.
Looking over his shoulder, he noticed the similarly dressed girl sitting on the third Heathen's lap completely enamored. The girl looked as if a tornado could hit the place and as long as she had Victor's attention she couldn't care less.
Victor, who had been watching him since he entered the bar, caught his gaze and nodded. "I'll make sure Miss Lydia here makes it home."
"But..." Still unsure, Golden glanced from Lydia to Victor worriedly.
Victor whispered something in Lydia's ear and the girl looked over to Golden and waved. "Bye, call me tomorrow. I'm gonna stay here."
Grayson could feel the fight leave Golden's body as she reluctantly nodded. Guiding her back toward the door, he led her out of the bar and into the dark parking lot. His car was parked directly at the front door taking up two spaces. Wasting no time, he ushered Golden into the passenger seat and shut the door. Within minutes they were back on the highway.
"You didn't have to pick me up," she murmured.
The tenuous grip he held over his anger bowed and flexed under the strain of his control. "And let you have your drunk friend take you home? I think not," he said tersely.
With tired eyes, she shot him a defiant look. "We would have waited until we were sober," she argued. "Besides, shouldn't you be with your girlfriend ?" He could hear the sneer in her words.
Grayson took a deep breath. He cursed himself for the hundredth time for letting Myla show up to his office unannounced, especially after seeing Golden's note on his assistant's desk. "Golden listen to me, the woman in my office is not-"
Golden held up her hands and shook her head. "You don't have to explain anything to me, Mr. Rosebank. I'm simply your assistant. Your private life has nothing to do with me."
His annoyance hardened to anger. "Dammit Golden, listen to me," he growled, glaring at the dark road ahead as he drove. "I dated her months ago. We haven't seen each other since until she just popped up in my office today, unannounced."
Golden crossed her arms, turning further away in her seat. The darkness of the car hid her face. "You don't have to tell me any of this."
"Obviously, I do," he glanced at her. "You ran off and wouldn't answer my phone calls."
With each call that went to voicemail, his sanity had chipped away little by little. It had felt like that day two years ago when he discovered her gone and her house empty.
"I left a note," Golden pouted. "And I was busy with Lydia, I haven't got around to looking at my phone."
Grayson let a cold smile cross his lips. "Then you can tell Gaige that too, since he called me unable to get a hold of you."
Golden made a small whining noise and leaned against the window.
Good, he thought. He shouldn’t have to be the only one in the situation having to deal with Gaige's frenzied texts. Earlier when Grayson had finally gotten Myla to leave, Gaige had called him just as he found Golden's note.
"What did you do this time?!" His son's voice practically vibrated with fury.
Grayson pinched the bridge of his nose. "Gaige, I don't have time for this."
"Oh really? Is it because you lost Golden again," Gaige snarled. "I got a text from her that she is gonna quit, and you and I both know what she will try next."
She would run, Grayson thought with a groan. From everything he knew about Golden, the girl was conditioned to run from major problems. Her father did it to her after her mom died. She was taken from her problematic home by her aunt. And not to mention the incident two years ago and now Juilliard. Running was her modus operandus. Something he had every intention of breaking.
"There was just a misunderstanding, I'll take care of it," he had said through gritted teeth before hanging up the phone.
His thoughts felt like a stream of fire as he thought of the prospect of her trying to quit. Under no circumstance was he willing to let that happen. His hand tightened on the wheel. He just got her back, dammit. He wasn’t willing to let her go. Besides, he thought taking a deep breath and pushing the dangerous feelings welling in his chest to the side, she needed this job. It was a good learning opportunity and it would help her make up for the lost time at Juilliard.
A wry smirk played on Grayson's lips. Who was he kidding? He was lying to himself—again. He didn't just want the best for Golden's future, he wanted to be in it.
Glancing over to her, he lingered on her closed eyes and serene expression. She had fallen asleep. Looking back at the road, he shifted gears. The car growled forward, its engine low and powerful as it cut through the dark countryside. As the road stretched out before them, he couldn't help but notice how peaceful she looked, her breath even and soft, a stark contrast to the chaos that had led him here tonight. Only a few hours ago he was ready to pry her front door off its hinges looking for her. With a final glance in her direction, he pressed the gas a little harder, steering them back toward home.
Half an hour later he slowly pulled the car into the curving driveway of his house. Quietly, Grayson unbuckled his belt and stepped out of the car, gently closing the door behind him. Coming to her side, he carefully opened the door and bent down. For a moment, Grayson paused, hovering inches from her face watching and listening to the light breathing sounds coming from her. Not wanting to break the moment but knowing he must, Grayson leaned over and pressed the button for her seatbelt.
Golden's eyes fluttered open as he straightened back up. He watched as she blinked in confusion while the reality of her situation settled in.
Getting out of the car, she looked from him to the house behind him and frowned. "What are we doing here?"
Grayson didn't say anything.
He could see the challenge spark in her eyes, driving the last of her sleepiness away. Turning on her heel, Golden began to walk away. "Then I'll just walk home."
Calmly, Grayson closed the car door and watched her as she walked away. "The gate is locked," he informed her.
Golden paused and he didn't bother hiding his smile. He had made sure to press the remote to shut the twelve-foot-high iron gate that surrounded the entire property as he pulled in.
With a sound of frustration, Golden turned back to him. Some of the fire in her eyes was replaced with a watery sheen that had him stepping closer to her.
Running a self-conscious through her short hair, she shifted uncomfortably on her feet. "I don’t want to see you right now…and I don't want you to see me like this. I want to go home, so let me go."
Reaching for her, he pulled her close to him. Around them, the quiet night stretched on, surrounding them with a stillness. "Golden, darling," He leaned down and whispered near her ear as his hands tightened on the back of her arms. "You’re walking a fine line with my patience."
Shocked, her head jerked up and she met his eyes. "But-"
She tried to speak but he cut her off. "If you didn't want me to see you this way then you shouldn't have left and then proceeded to get drunk in the middle of nowhere with a bunch of bikers," he snapped.
"I was hanging out with my friend," she argued, defiance brilliantly lighting up her eyes. "Besides you were clearly busy," she enunciated every syllable with venom. "So, me leaving early shouldn't matter."
Reaching the end of his patience, Grayson stepped forward with her hand in his, pulling her forward as his leg swept under hers. In one blink her center of gravity was disrupted and she was toppling backward into his arm. In another second he had her fully in his arms.
"Mr. Rosebank!" Golden cried out. "What are-"
He was halfway to the door when he paused with her in his arms. He could feel the madness from earlier when he tried calling her again and again and got her voicemail sinking its claws deeper inside his mind. Coldly, he looked down at her wide eyes. "My name. Say it," he commanded.
Fear began to seep into her eyes but her stubbornness still battled on. Biting her bottom lip, she glared at him. "I was-"
Again, he cut her off. "Say it," he said evenly, his voice barely above a whisper as he stood stone-still under the soft yellow glow of the covered entrance.
Seeing the determination on his face, Golden's body relaxed in defeat and she lowered her eyes and mumbled."…Grayson."
Satisfaction swelled inside of him like a tide. "Good."
The house was quiet and dark as he carried her through it. Up the stairs and down the hall, he didn't stop until he was pushing into the bedroom next to Gaige's empty room. It was her room. A room he had given her years ago to use as her own space when she visited the house.
He vividly remembered her tears of shock when Gaige revealed the guest room years ago. The idea had really been Grayson's. Finding Golden asleep next to Gaige, who was playing on his phone, was motive enough to have the room redecorated. Unfortunately, his memories also conjured up his son's smug grin that day when he caught him staring into his room.
Setting her on the bed, Grayson stepped back, keeping his eyes focused anywhere but on her. "You should have everything you need. Omar has restocked the mini-fridge." He pointed to the concealed little fridge built into the nightstand.
"Thank you..." She looked as if she wanted to say something else but looked away instead.
The urge to say something gnawed at his bones but he refrained. Instead, he stepped back toward the door. "We’ll talk in the morning,"
Golden didn't look at him, keeping her gaze down on her lap. Looking at her sulky expression something twisted inside of him. With two steps he was in front of her, towering over her, his hand shooting out to take her chin in his hand. With a touch both tender and possessive, he lifted her chin, capturing her sulky expression in his unwavering gaze. Their eyes clashed, and he sensed the weight of her silent anger. With a deliberate gentleness that belied the intensity of his actions, he brushed his lips against her forehead.
He only allowed himself a moment to savor the small tremor that rippled through her at his touch and stepped back. "Goodnight, I will see you in the morning."
He was closing her door when he heard her soft reply. "Goodnight."