Chapter 24
Sophia
The Choice
The last thing I remember was being carried up the road and put into Grant’s truck. Now, I was curled against soft sheets with a familiar spiced vanilla scent welcoming me as my eyes fluttered open.
“Hey there, Peach.”
I pushed my chin to my chest, raising up on my elbows. “Hey,” I tried to say, but my throat was too dry to make it not sound crackly. I looked around the room and took a deep breath. “When did we get back to Alliston?”
“’Bout an hour ago. I didn’t want to wake you. You needed the rest.”
I yawned and sat up on Grant’s bed, rubbing my palms over my arms as they crossed over my chest. “I slept the whole way back?”
“You did.” He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. He looked…defeated. The bags under his eyes hadn’t been there before we drove back to Alliston Springs. It was like the life had been sucked from him.
A knot started twistin’ hard in my gut. “You should be sleeping, too.”
“I will.” He scrubbed his palms down his face. “I just wanted to watch you and make sure you were okay.”
“You’ve been doin’ that an awful lot lately,” I said like it was a joke, but that joke fell flat.
His grey eyes locked on mine fiercely. “Are you okay?”
I tried to smile, only for my lips to give out and tremble. Unshed tears blurred my eyes, threatening to burst. I nodded, trying to blink it away. “No?”
He rushed from his chair, wrapping his arms around me, and that’s when the floodgates opened. I cried on his bare shoulder as he smoothed his hands down my back, snaking them up my shirt. The contact of his skin on mine comforted me in ways nothing and no one else ever had.
“I’ve gotcha, Peach,” he murmured into my hair. “I’m not lettin’ go without a fight, and even then, I’d fight ’til I die.”
I shuddered at the thought. “Please don’t die.”
He chuckled. “I don’t see that happenin’ anytime soon.” He kissed the top of my head as I turned against his chest, wiping the tears from my cheeks. “You blacked out again on me.”
“I know,” I whispered.
“Listen.” He pulled back, cupping my cheeks.
“Shootin’ at the SUV was a reflex. I couldn’t lose you.
I couldn’t watch you get taken from me like that.
” My brows dipped as he continued. “I should’a known better than to leave you without a gun.
I should’a came with you, or better yet, stayed at the cabin in bed all day.
And as far as that fucker who’d taken you, I… ” His fingers trembled.
“Grant.” I placed my hands over his. “You didn’t cause anythin’ that had put me in that state.”
He smoothed his thumb over a sore spot on my cheek.
Probably a bruise. “If I hadn’t shot at the car, you wouldn’t have these.
” I smiled weakly, knowing if I didn’t have ’em, I’d have worse marks.
Ones that wouldn’t only be the visible kind.
He kissed his way from my forehead, down to the tip of my nose, then over my cheek.
“I’m so fuckin’ happy you’re alive.” His chest rose and fell as his eyes darted between mine.
“I need to know, Peach—do you remember who took you?”
I exhaled a shaky breath. “Yeah.”
“Can you tell me?”
I pinched my eyes tight, the muscles in my face hurting as I did so. “If I do, and you end up goin’ after him and dying, I’ll never forgive myself.”
His thumb swept over my bottom lip. “I feel the same way, darlin’. But sometimes, you just have to trust one thing over the other.”
I knew what he was saying—trust that he could handle whatever could happen more than I trusted the other man’s ambitions to see his efforts through. The crazy thing was, I think I’d finally crossed that line. I’d been through hell before and believed I’d never see the light of day.
Grant was becomin’ that light. Whether that made me weak or na?ve like I’d always been, I couldn’t find a fuck to give about that anymore. It was time to choose me, for once. Choose what I wanted and who I wanted. And I was choosin’ Grant Brooks.
His eyes turned brighter somehow as I pressed a gentle kiss to his lips, then nodded. “Okay.”
12 years ago
It was my eighteenth birthday. My father and step-mother made a big deal about it, but to me, it seemed no different. I wasn’t stepping into any important role, going off to college, or moving out with friends. None of that was allowed in my social circle.
No.
As a woman, I didn’t have a huge role to fill other than reproducing.
Providing an heir to our family legacy. Now that I was eighteen, nothing had changed other than getting another year closer to the day I’d marry Walton Buchanon III.
He was…dull, to put it nicely. But thank fucking God his family wanted him to become a lawyer, just like his father was, and he was happy as a damn clam to do as he was told.
Not like me.
Slipping on my red cocktail dress and black Louboutins, I finally felt ready to take the step I’d been wanting to for years. I applied bright red lipstick and smacked my lips, double-checking my teeth for any marks before heading downstairs.
“Dearest,” my father greeted me from the foyer, checking his watch. “Right on time.”
I smiled at him, my heels tapping elegantly as I finished my descent. Glancing around the foyer, I looked for my step-mother before asking, “Where is Kora?”
Riyan stepped into the room, adjusting his suit jacket, and my heart instantly swooped.
He was my step-mother’s brother, technically my uncle, but try telling my heart that he was off-limits in all ways imaginable.
“She’ll be out soon.” When he finally looked at me, the corner of his lip twitched. “You look beautiful.”
“Doesn’t she?” my father added, grinning back at Riyan. “Why don’t you two get going. Kora and I will meet you there.”
“What?” I pressed a hand to my chest over the sweetheart neckline of my dress, fighting past the sudden dryness in my throat.
“Where is Walton? Is he coming?” It was always him and me shoved together to these things.
He was supposed to be in town for my birthday—not that I really cared if he was or not.
“He left. Said he forgot about a test he had to study for. So, you’re riding with me, Princess.
” I cautiously fit my arm through Riyan’s waiting one, feeling the butterflies in my stomach explode in ways my father would scold me for.
Hell, the rest of the world would. Who the hell had a crush on their uncle?
It didn’t matter that he was closer to my age than he was to Kora’s, or that we weren’t blood.
I knew it was wrong to want to have his attention tonight, to finally see if maybe he’d show a sign he was interested too, but I couldn’t help it.
Ever since the day my father married Kora when I was eight, I’d fawned over my then twelve-year-old uncle.
I used to pretend my Ken doll was him and I was Barbie—not a far fetch since, laughably, we looked just like them as we got older.
Ken would swoop Barbie off her feet, kiss her, and they’d drive away together in Barbie’s pink car.
I’d never actually been alone in a car with Riyan.
“You really do look beautiful.” I looked the other way, trying to hide my reddening cheeks.
“You’re just sayin’ that.”
Riyan’s blue eyes seemed to sparkle as he helped me into the backseat of an all-black SUV. He leaned in, taking the buckle from my hands and securing it for me. I swore his eyes lingered on my chest as he pulled back, but when he closed my door, I pushed that insane idea out of my head.
Riyan could have anyone he wanted. He was my father’s right hand man in the business, was gorgeous, and had the charisma that could charm even the prickliest of people. He dated models and celebrities. I was just an oil heiress who’d be the face of a company he’d ultimately run next to me one day.
There was no way my sudden jump into adulthood would make him attracted to me.
The car ride to the country club was silent, with Riyan only directing the driver where to park and wait for us when we were ready to leave. My ears perked up at the verbiage, but figured maybe he’d slipped and said “we” because I was in the car with him.
My birthday party was as I expected—full of people I didn’t know, or care to know, all talking about my life as if they knew me. You’d think with a room full of people there to celebrate me, I’d feel full. Happy, even.
But I didn’t.
Emptiness consumed me until I became a shell of a person, watching the world go by, making no difference to anyone’s lives.
Not even my own. Hours went by while I sipped champagne glass after champagne glass.
It provided the ease my mind needed, and gave my smile that little extra Kora was always sayin’ I needed, but the warmth I wanted was missing.
That was until a firm hand pressed to the small of my back.
“Wanna get outta here?”
I couldn’t hide the grin on my face as Riyan stepped up beside me, clanking his mostly-empty glass to mine. “What? With you?”
“No. With that man over there, the one with the god-awful toupee.”
I giggled and looked out at the crowd as he finished the last sip in his glass. “Why does it feel so…the same?”
“What?” he questioned, dark, perfectly sculpted brows dropping as he followed my gaze.
“This.” I swirled my free hand around us, the room spinning a fraction as I did so, causing me to lose balance.
Riyan wrapped his arm around my waist, steadying me. “Well, maybe…” His light eyes fell to my lips, and I licked them. “Maybe we shouldn’t be here.”
I laughed as he helped me stand on my own. “Where else would we go?”
He shrugged, keeping that easy-going appearance of his that only became more charming as we got older. “It’s your birthday, Princess. Where would you like to go?”
Those words squeezed at my heart. I’d spent countless parties standing in corners, waiting for Riyan to notice me. For him to look at me like he was now.