Chapter Twelve
Nothing ever good came from a knock at the door in the middle of the night.
Between organizing the wedding party with a woman Jaxon clearly had slept with, and the realization that soon I would be interim CEO, sleep evaded me. I’d been tossing and turning, unable to get comfortable and stop my mind racing, when the knock on my bedroom door echoed through the silent room.
Instantly, everything within me seized.
Had something happened to Dad? Had he been rushed to hospital? Or even worse… I would never have been able to forgive myself if I didn’t get the chance to say goodbye.
Opening the door, Jaxon stood with a face more stern than usual. He wasn’t dressed in his usual crisp-ironed shirt and charcoal trousers. His bed-messed hair was a stark comparison to the usually composed man during the day. Even more startling was the pair of light gray jogging bottoms hanging so low on his hips that it was hard to miss the distinct v-lines, and the lack of any other clothing.
He was a tattooed adonis.
Swirls of black ink covered his chest and shoulders. A set of wings, strikes of fine lightning, and three swallows. I wanted to reach out and touch them. There was a lot more, but my eyes were unable to take in every bit of art sketched onto his skin.
He was a canvased masterpiece.
The world wasn’t playing fair when it created Jaxon. No man should be that mouthwatering in nothing but jogging bottoms that early in the morning. I suddenly became conscious of my appearance: the loose, tangled curls falling from my messy bun and the lack of pajama bottoms.
Yet I didn’t budge, too lost in staring at the man I married.
Jaxon remained silent, the intensity of him watching me snapped me back into the present moment.
“What’s wrong?” I pushed stray strands of hair away from my face. “Is it my dad?”
He shook his head. “Your father is fine. It’s Flynn. A police officer called your family home. Saunders took the call.” He ran a hand over his mouth. “Flynn’s been arrested. Saunders is downstairs. He thought it better to bring this to your attention first.”
Before Jaxon finished his sentence, I was out the door and heading straight down the stairs. Lo and behold, Saunders stood in the foyer, hands behind his back and face unreadable as ever. The man had been with my family for ten-plus years. All those years intertwined with our lives, watching Flynn and myself grow up, he remained the exact same.
About as emotional and readable as a blunt instrument.
“Sorry to do this to you in the middle of the night, Ms. Reynolds…”
“It’s Mrs. Dade,” Jaxon interrupted. He stepped off the final stair with a bathrobe in his hands. Coffee and wicked spice invaded my personal space as he wrapped the bathrobe around me. Strong hands ran down my arms, fingertips touching mine before he moved away.
“Mrs. Dade,” Saunders corrected without hesitation. “I didn’t believe it wise to wait until morning, less risk of it reaching the wrong ears.” The tabloids and stupid gossip columns were in for a feast when they found out. “Your father is asleep. I checked before I left. Again, I thought it wise to keep this away from him for the time being.”
“Thank you, Saunders.” I tried to smile, but my mind was in overdrive. I needed to ring someone in PR and get them to find a way to keep it far from public attention. Someone needed to keep an eye on my father. His healthcare assistant wasn’t due to arrive until seven a.m. If there was an official charge, I needed a lawyer as soon as possible.
Then, there was Flynn himself.
This fucking close to Dad’s announcement. My brother had to be joking.
“Did they say why the boy has been arrested?” Jaxon asked. Our fingers were breaths away from each other. The heat of his skin chased away the anxious goosebumps.
“Officer said they found him unconscious and under the influence,” Saunders responded. “Said they couldn’t disclose much else until someone came down to the station.”
I groaned, running my hands down my face. I was going to murder Flynn with my bare hands.
Okay, it’s going to be okay. Just think.
“Saunders, can you go back to my father and make sure he’s okay? He can’t be in the house alone.” I didn’t wait for him to reply. The man was a soldier ready for orders. He simply did what was asked without question. “Jaxon, is your bike still here?”
He nodded.
Thank god.
There’d been a royal cock-up involving the storage over Jaxon’s motorcycle. The garage Jaxon rented to keep the vehicle secure was currently being investigated for fraud and affiliation with unsavory members of New York’s criminal underground.
He lost a hefty deposit but was unfazed, requesting that we store the motorbike in the back garden until he arranged an alternative solution.
“Perfect. You will drive me to the police station.” This wasn’t Flynn’s first run-in with the NYPD. I only hoped our lawyer could talk them out of another felony charge. “I’ll handle the rest when we get there.”
He cocked his eyebrow. “You want me to take you on my bike?”
“Yes. Is that a problem?”
“Have you ever been on a motorcycle before?”
“No.” I tugged the bathrobe around me tighter. “But there’s no time like the present. As long as you don’t drive like an absolute maniac, I am sure I’ll be perfectly capable of being able to sit on the back of a bike.”
A shadow of a smirk graced his lips. “And you’re sure you want me to go with you? I can always call you a cab.”
Did I want him to go with me? He was my husband, after all, whether either of us wanted it or not. Married couples did these sorts of things together. They were a team—two pillars for each other to lean on.
I married Jaxon so that I didn’t have to be alone.
A pit fell into the base of my stomach.
The one thing I knew for certain was that I didn’t want to go and face it alone like I always did when it came to Flynn, not when I didn’t have to anymore.
“Evelyn?” Jaxon crossed his arms. “Is there someone else I can call?”
“I want you there with me,” I said, my voice stronger than I thought possible. “Please.”
“Ton souhait est mon commandement, douceur.”
Watching him disappear up the stairs, I mentally added learning French to my growing list of things to do.
The motorcycle helmet was a dense weight in my hands.
Watching Jaxon pull his black helmet over his head and flip up this visor, every fiber of my previous bravery vanished.
Annoyingly, Jaxon’s eyes glinted with smugness. He straddled the machine, twisting the handle and kick-starting the monstrous engine into life. “You on or off, douceur?”
“I thought I told you to stop calling me that,” I called over the noise. “What does it even mean?”
He laughed, swiping his visor down and nodding to the back of the bike.
Now or never.
Please God or whoever is listening, please don’t let me die.
Throwing my leg over the bike with as much grace as a newborn giraffe, I willed myself to remain calm and not fall off the damn thing. As I pulled Jaxon’s spare helmet over my head, he turned suddenly. My body stilled. Leather-gloved hands reached forward, the material dragging along the column of my throat and causing my lungs to spasm. A single finger went under the helmet and tilted my head up, giving him access to secure my chin strap.
His touch, though covered by his gloves, left jolts of electricity in its wake.
Turning back, his hands grabbed my knees and pulled me toward him. I’ve never been more thankful for not wearing a dress or skirt. My crotch collided with his lower back, the engine purring through me, and despite myself, I enjoyed the feeling. Jaxon scooted back, grinding into my hips and sending a wave of heat between my legs. My teeth sank into my bottom lip to suppress a moan wishing to break free.
It was a sensational overload.
How was riding a motorbike so intimate?
“Hold on, douceur.” He dragged out the nickname with a teasing chuckle.
Slamming down my visor, I wrapped my arms around his waist, my breasts flat to his back as he kicked off from the curb. A ripple ran through him, his body tensing for a few seconds. I couldn’t ask if he was okay, I was too busy holding onto him for dear life as he picked up speed.
It was strange. I was terrified, yet ecstatic adrenaline coursed through me at the same time.
Lights of the sleeping city flashed by. The empty roads were a perfect canvas for Jaxon to weave in and out, picking up speed that normally scared the shit out of me. Only the sound of the engine disturbed the quietness of the suburban streets.
My heart soared and rattled like a bird trapped in a cage.
With one hand steering, Jaxon slipped his other hand down and rested it on my knee, which was digging deep into his side. His fingers squeezed lightly. I thought he wanted me to ease up, to stop my knee trying to break his lower ribs, but when I tried to move back, his grip tightened.
He was keeping me in place.
A smile blossomed under my helmet—he was making sure I was safe.
When we arrived at the police station, I wasn’t sure if I was going to vomit or dance with exhilarated joy.
“Do you want me to wait out here?” Jaxon removed his helmet. Dark eyes flickered between me and the police station. “Or you can always ring me when you’re finished?”
The reality came crashing back in around me.
Flynn was in custody. He’d been arrested yet again.
I was here to pick up the pieces, yet again.
Lifting the helmet from my head, I chewed the corner of my lip. “Can you come inside with me?” I don’t want to do this alone again. “They have a waiting area with a pretty decent coffee machine.”
His eyes narrowed. “You’ve done this before, non?”
“More times than I am willing to count,” I sighed. “Let’s get this over and done with.”
We entered the police station and started the formalities that I was used to. Name, address, paperwork, relationship to the arrested, and, for the hell of it, more paperwork. Some of the police officers recognized me, going out of their way to say hello.
Jaxon stood by my side the whole time, hand on my lower back, and his stormy eyes roamed the place.
He was like a panther ready to pounce.
“I’m going to try and ring our lawyers,” I said after filling out the last piece of paperwork. “Doubtful they will answer at this time of the morning, but I’ll leave them a message. Hopefully, someone on the team can come down as soon as possible.”
Jaxon nodded. “I’ll grab us some coffee.”
Our lawyers were used to handling things like this. They’d got the charges dropped on Flynn multiple times before, ensuring his record stayed clean and he wasn’t kicked out of university. If NYU got even a whiff of half the shit he got up to, they’d expel him in a flash.
I left the voicemail and came back to Jaxon sitting on a plastic seat in a waiting area. The small flimsy seat barely contained his large stature. The man was over six feet tall, his shoulders wider than a tree, and his strong thick legs took the moisture away from my mouth.
“Here.” He handed me a paper cup. “I wasn’t sure how you took it, so I lifted creamer and sugar.”
“Three sugars and lots of creamer,” I said, laughing as his eyebrows shot up. “Truth is, I actually hate the taste of coffee, but I crave the caffeine. Not sure how anyone drinks the stuff. It’s bitter and disgusting.”
Jaxon watched in horror as I stirred in the three packets of sugar and an obscene amount of creamer. “How do you drink that? It’s making my teeth hurt just looking at it.”
Slurping a big mouthful, I smacked my lips and hummed in delight. “Delicious! Let me guess, you drink your coffee black?”
We both looked into his cup. Ha! I knew it. Black and soulless.
“Thank you, by the way.” I cleared my throat. “I’m sure you’d rather be anywhere else right now, probably back in Ontario living your life without any of this headache. But I appreciate you bringing me here and staying with me. So… thank you.”
Several beats of silence. “What happens to Flynn now?”
“He’ll be kept here for twenty-four hours. Hopefully, a lawyer can come down before then and sit in on any police interviews. Then, he either will be let go without charges or released on bail.” I took the seat next to him. “The lawyers we have on the books are good. They are usually able to get any charges squashed.”
“You don’t sound happy about that.” His knee touched mine.
Guilt bubbled in my throat. “He’s my baby brother and I love him. But sometimes, I think he thinks this is all one big joke. That no matter what happens, he’ll never have to face the consequences of his actions because so far he hasn’t had to.” Sweetened coffee turned bitter on my tongue. “He’s young, and I get that you only get to be young once… maybe I am being selfish.”
“You feel like you’re the one who has to pick up the pieces,” Jaxon said. “Now more than ever, with your father being ill, all the responsibility falls on your shoulders.”
My teeth scraped my bottom lip.
“Although Flynn is still a child in many ways, you hoped that with your father’s condition, it may have been enough to wise him up,” Jaxon continued. “That nearing the inevitable end and hurtling you both toward bigger responsibilities that neither of you anticipated, young Flynn would finally grow up. And you wouldn’t have to do this all on your own. Am I right?”
I exhaled. “Yes.”
Police officers walked through the door escorting a man in handcuffs. Neither of us spoke until they left, the hum of the coffee machine filling the void of silence.
“Families are never easy. It’s difficult to be so devoted to them, blinded by our bounds to them, to try and see through their flaws and know that they will never change.” He leaned back in his chair, the plastic groaning, and pressed his shoulder against mine. “It can’t be easy to do it alone.”
I didn’t think I’d end up in this situation. Only a couple months ago, I had a fiancé there to hold my hand and be the steady constant in my life.
He walked away and left me completely alone.
“I get this is strictly business,” I said. “Neither of us truly wanted this, and if things were different, maybe we would have ended up with someone we actually cared about. But maybe we could try and make the best of our bad situation? We’re stuck with each other for a year, and I believe in order to survive our time together, we should at least attempt a friendship.”
His nostrils flared. “Is there someone else you care about? Another person who you’d have rather married?”
Was that a hint of jealousy I detected?
No, surely my ears were deceiving me.
I blinked. “It was hypothetical.”
“Bon. Having another person, someone trying to interfere in our marriage, wouldn’t look good, now would it?” Dark eyes dipped to my mouth. “Because I want to make something quite clear, Evelyn. I don’t share. And while you have that ring on your finger… let’s just say it would be wise to remember my lack of appetite for sharing.”
A flutter of a thousand butterflies burst into life. His face inched closer, the warmth of his breath coating my cheeks. I tried to hold his gaze, but my eyes found his lips. They were like the rest of him, so damn perfect.
“Noted. No sharing.”
“Is this what you want? For us to be friends, douceur?”
Was that my own heartbeat echoing in my ears? Why was it so loud? Oh god, could he hear it, too?
I nodded, not trusting myself to speak.
Before Jaxon got the chance to reply, the whisper of a smirk tugging the corner of his mouth, someone called my name. Neither of us moved, frozen in place mere inches apart, until the same voice called out again.
Whatever spell the two of us were under snapped with a blink.
I stood up abruptly, spilling the remains of my coffee down my trousers.
Fucking hell.
“Evelyn Reynolds?” An officer walked toward us. “Are you Evelyn Reynolds?”
“Um… yes,” I tried to dry some of the spill with paper-thin napkins. “I’m here for my brother, Flynn Reynolds.”
The officer motioned for me to follow her. “Come with me. You can see him now.”
“Okay, yes. Amazing... umm…” I looked to Jaxon. He nodded toward the officer while pulling out his mobile phone. He was going to wait for me. My stomach swooped and I didn’t bother hiding my smile for him. “All I’m asking is for you to consider it, Jaxon. It would make our lives so much easier doing this as allies, not adversaries.”
I left him in the waiting room to handle my next problem with a flicker of hope, making the walk to my brother’s cell feel a little less heavy.