Chapter 13 #2
“Yes, yes, very busy, I’m sure.” She sniffed. “Well, if you’re not upset, I guess I don’t need to be either.”
“I’m not, and you don’t, I promise.”
After another few minutes in which she tried and failed to get me to detail last night’s activities and then a promise to keep her updated on both the shopping center situation and whatever was going on with Brady, we said our goodbyes.
I hung up, starfishing on the bed for a second, before I dragged myself out of the room and headed to the bathroom.
I’d been in too much of a stupor last night when Brady had handcuffed us together that I hadn’t grabbed anything from my van, which meant I had my phone and the clothes on my back and that was it.
After taking care of my business, I washed up and then dug through the drawers, grateful but unsurprised to find a few unopened toothbrushes inside.
After brushing my teeth, I headed into the hallway, intent on snooping.
If Brady was okay leaving me in his home unattended, I had no problem nosing around.
Still wearing only his T-shirt, I made my way through his house, taking my time and studying it now that it wasn’t pitch black and my thoughts weren’t consumed by horniness.
His home was as tidy as I’d expected, with thick-planked pine floors throughout, the walls painted a soft, muted gray. Upstairs held only the master bedroom and en suite bathroom—with a multi-headed shower I’d love to take for a spin—and the equally unappointed guest bedroom and bathroom.
Maybe the main floor would give me more of a glimpse into the elusive man that was Brady McKenzie.
I slipped downstairs, stopping at the base of the steps to take in the main floor.
The kitchen, dining room, and living room all flowed into one gigantic space, three sets of glass sliders on the far wall showcasing a view of the ocean.
To my right was the living room with an old-fashioned woodstove, plus a couch and matching oversized chair, a bookcase, and a TV. A small dining table for four separated the living area and kitchen, which was simple with white cabinets and stainless-steel appliances—all of it spotless.
I strode over to the center slider along the back wall, pressing my palms to the glass as I stared outside—I’d already left prints of both the hand and boob variety thanks to last night, so what were a couple more? “Holy shit,” I breathed.
I stood in a near replica of the stance he’d put me in the night before, but then I hadn’t been able to see anything but darkness beyond the glass.
Today, though, I took in the beauty that was his backyard.
A deck stretched along the entire length of the house.
Steps led down to a small grassy area cut off by a winding path made of sand with a direct line straight to the ocean.
His backyard looked like a freaking postcard with the sun shining and illuminating a glittering path over the water.
As I stared out at it, a warm sort of peace settled over me that I’d only ever experienced from the back of my van.
What would it be like to wake up to this every day? To sit out on the porch and soak in the sun, meditating to the lullaby of the ocean?
Knowing I could get lost in that view for hours and unsure of how much alone time I had in the house, I dragged myself away and poked around, hoping for a clue into this man I knew so little about.
But the whole house felt…cold. It was a beautiful piece of property, tucked away from everything, if the darkness surrounding us as we’d driven up last night was any indication, but it lacked heart.
The place needed some rugs, a few paintings, and would it kill him to display some knickknacks?
Hell, he didn’t even have any junk mail lying around.
The only remotely personal thing I came across was a grouping of photos clustered on his bookcase—that held, naturally, a plethora of true crime novels.
There were three pictures in varying sizes.
The smallest was a young Brady, with two missing front teeth, standing next to a man who had to be his father.
His dad smiled at the camera, but Brady’s attention was solely on his father, staring up at him as he held a small fish.
Next to it was an image of him and his siblings—all of whom I’d met, with the exception of Levi, though he wasn’t hard to pick out since he was the only one I didn’t recognize.
The picture looked to have been taken maybe ten years ago.
I could make out everyone, but there was a softness to their faces they no longer carried.
They stood around the sign for Starlight Cove Resort, and though they smiled, there was no denying the overwhelming sadness in each of their eyes.
The last and largest picture of the bunch showed a beautiful woman with dark-auburn hair, pale-green eyes the exact shade of Brady’s, and a smile that lifted straight off the image.
She stood in front of a large sailboat, six kids all clustered around her.
They ranged in age from maybe twelve—Brady—to Addison, who looked to be around three or four, sitting propped on her mom’s hip, everyone beaming at the camera.
The difference between the older pictures from when Brady was a child and the one from his adult years was staggering. Where the older ones were full of happiness and life, the more recent one felt…empty.
I had no idea what caused the shift, but that wasn’t what troubled me. Nope, it was the fact that I wanted to know in the first place. I knew better than to get in deep with someone like this—with anyone at all. And yet I couldn’t stop myself from wanting to dig deep and uncover all his secrets.