Chapter 2
Chapter Two
Autumn
I start shivering the moment Mace stands, leaving me alone on the loveseat.
It’s ridiculous. It felt so good in his arms. My world has been pitched upside down.
I can’t imagine it will ever be okay again.
Yet, I want to curl up in Mace’s lap. I want his arms around me, holding me, telling me everything will be okay.
This was a horrible idea. I shouldn’t have come here, but I didn’t have a choice. There’s no way I would defy my father’s dying wishes. Besides, he’s right; Mace is the best person I could have come to. He will take care of this disaster and keep me safe.
I still can’t believe he doesn’t have a woman in his life. How is that possible? He has always seemed like a god to me. Long before I ever met him, my father often spoke highly of Mace. I didn’t meet him for the first time until I was eighteen, and I nearly swooned.
I’m too distraught to swoon right now, but as I sit here rigid on this couch on the fifteenth floor of this fancy building in downtown Seattle, I find myself staring at a man I’ve had a ridiculous crush on for the last four years.
I can’t move. I’m frozen from fear and panic and exhaustion and about ten other emotions. And I’m watching Mace move smoothly around his office as if nothing could thwart him.
The only sign he’s distressed is the fact that his brow is furrowed. He stiffened as I told him about my father, and I know he got choked up. In some ways, my dad was like a father to Mace, too. I know Mace looked up to him. I’ve heard him say as much.
He grabs a phone off his desk and places a call.
I can’t hear what he’s saying because he keeps his voice low, and I’m too distressed to listen anyway.
I’m certain he’s making a call related to my father.
He said he would send someone to the house immediately.
I don’t even ask how they will get in. This is Mace.
I’m sure he and his people—apparently, he even has people located in Indianapolis—can get into any building.
Hell, Mace can probably walk through walls. I wouldn’t doubt it.
Do I have a fixation on the man as a superhero? Yes. That’s how I’ve always seen him. I knew he was capable of things us mere mortals are not able to accomplish long before I met him because that’s how my father spoke of him.
He returns to my side while he’s still talking, and I want to slump against him as soon as he’s close enough. He sets a hand on my shoulder and absently curls his fingers around the back of my neck, anchoring me to Earth.
As soon as he ends the call, he squats in front of me. “A team is headed to your house, sweetheart. If anyone happens to see them, they will look like staff from the coroner’s office, sent to retrieve the body.” He points toward the manila envelope I’m still gripping. “May I see what’s in there?”
“Yes.” I release it and hand it to him. “Mostly, it was instructions on what to do in an emergency. Did you know you’re the executor of my father’s will?”
Mace’s eyes widen. “No. I didn’t.”
My father had told me several times over the years that if anything ever happened to him, everything I needed would be in this envelope. I hadn’t expected him to actually be gasping out his final dying breaths, clutching my hand and instilling the fear of God in me to grab this and run.
“He was scared…” I mutter absently, reliving those moments. “For me…”
Mace sets the envelope on the floor and places his huge hands on my outer thighs. His palms rest against my bare skin because my skirt has risen up too high. “Your father loved you so much, Autumn.”
I swallow hard, emotions bubbling at the surface. There’s no way I can speak. I’ve cried a river since I arrived here. Until now, I’ve been mostly holding it all in, all the tears. What was I going to do? Cry on the airplane and cause everyone to look at me? No, thank you.
“Let’s go downstairs. My apartment is one floor below us. You can shower and change clothes, and we’ll get some food in you. I’ll go through this envelope there.”
“You live here, in this building?” I manage to whisper.
“Yes. Most of us do. Blade, the owner, lives one floor above. I live in an apartment one floor down. So do three other guys who work here.” He stands, gripping the envelope with one hand and helping me up with the other.
I grab my purse and follow him, wishing I hadn’t been wearing three-inch heels when I’d gone on the run fifteen hours ago. My feet are furious.
Mace holds my hand as we leave his office. He guides me to another office and knocks on the doorframe. The door itself is open.
A dark-haired man with a gray beard who looks to be about my father’s age glances up. “Hey.”
“I have an unexpected client,” Mace informs him. “Autumn, this is my boss—the owner—Blade. Blade, Autumn.”
Blade rises and comes toward us. “Everything okay?”
“No. I’m going to take her to my apartment, get her settled, and figure out what she’s dealing with.”
Blade glances down at our combined hands. “But you know each other.”
Mace nods. “Yes. She’s the daughter of my Army captain. Captain James Burke.”
“I’ve heard you speak of him.” Blade’s brow furrows. “Dare I ask where he is?” His voice is kind, as if he already senses the horror.
Mace tucks me against his side, wrapping his arm around me. “Murdered last night.”
Blade winces, his gaze coming to me. “I’m so sorry.”
All I do is nod. It’s all I have the energy for. I can’t help but lean into Mace. I shouldn’t. We aren’t close. I don’t know why he’s treating me as if we’re far more acquainted than in actuality, but I’m not inclined to pull away. This feels too nice to stop.
Mace continues, “I’ve already called our contacts in Indianapolis to investigate.”
Blade’s brows are furrowed in deep concern as he returns his attention to Mace. “Good. I’ll get someone to cover for you. Keep me posted.”
“Thank you.” With his arm still around me, Mace leads me toward the front of the office.
The receptionist stands. She, too, looks genuinely concerned. Not surprising since she was the first person I spoke with when I entered the office. My sorrow and grief are not hidden.
“We’re going to my apartment,” Mace informs her.
She nods. “Let me know if you need anything.”
I’m dreading the elevator. It could be filled with strangers, but my concern is unnecessary because Mace leads me in a different direction. Before I know it, we’re in a stairwell. We descend one flight and step into another hallway.
Every door we go through is locked to outsiders. Mace is able to open them with a thumbprint against a keypad, including the next entrance, which I assume leads into his apartment.
I’m beyond grateful that we don’t have to order a rideshare and head across town. I don’t have the energy for one more step. I’m seconds from collapsing.
Apartment is an understatement for the home I’ve entered. It’s massive. I think there were four doors in the hallway, which means his apartment takes up a quarter of this floor.
Mace immediately bends down in front of me, lifts one of my feet, and removes my heel.
I grip his shoulders to steady myself as he does the same on the other side before tossing the offensive shoes toward the wall. He’s so astute that I nearly choke up all over again at his kindness.
“Thank you,” I murmur as he stands.
He smiles warmly and takes my hand again, guiding me toward the kitchen area. The room we’re in is a huge open-plan great room that includes a living room, kitchen, and dining room. The area is brightly lit by the floor-to-ceiling windows.
Mace sets the envelope on the island before opening the fridge and grabbing a bottle of water. He doesn’t release his hold on me until he has to in order to twist off the lid. “Drink, sweetheart,” he orders.
Shivers run down my spine at his choice of words and his tone. He commands me, but he does so gently. It seems incongruent, and yet, I suspect this is his natural way. Kind and bossy at the same time.
After I down half the bottle, he glances toward the envelope. “Have you gone through it?”
“Yes. Among the contents is a sealed letter with your name on it. I suspect what matters is on the thumb drive.”
He lifts a brow, turns, and carefully empties the items onto the island. He skims through the letter that was addressed to me, the one I opened. I haven’t opened the envelope with his name on it, so I don’t have a clue what it says.
Mace runs a finger over his name before returning his attention to me. “Tell me what you need first. Food, a shower, or sleep?”
I shrug. “I don’t know, but the thought of chewing and swallowing brings bile to my throat.”
He gives a curt nod. “Let’s go with a shower and then sleep.” With a finger tucked under my chin, he tips my head back. “I’m so fucking sorry, sweetheart. I know you’re hurting. I promise I’ll find out what happened to your father and keep you safe.”
I swallow hard, trying not to cry again, but it’s a lost cause. Mace takes the water from my hands, sets it on the island, and hauls me into his arms again. He holds me close, rocking me.
We stand like this for a long time, and I’m beyond grateful for his kindness. I need this. I need to be held. Unfortunately, being this close to Mace means more to me than it does to him. He’s just being nice. I’m incapable of not wishing it were more than that.
When he eases back, he threads his fingers with mine and angles us toward the hallway.
This is so surreal. I’m in Mace’s home in Seattle. I’ve never even been to Washington before. I’ve never been alone with the object of my ridiculous fantasies.
I know Mace isn’t his real name. It’s Damian Delossa. But my father always called him Mace. I don’t think I even want to know why. I know what a medieval mace is. I don’t know how the barbaric device is still used in modern-day war, but I suspect there’s a correlation.
I’m surprised when Mace leads me past several doors and into the room at the end of the hall. It’s obviously the master bedroom. We move straight through it to the attached bathroom. It’s luxurious. Mace clearly makes a good living.
But why didn’t he direct me to a guest bathroom?
I tremble when he releases me. I prefer him to be touching me. Something is terribly off with me since I’ve never touched him before this morning, except in passing. Suddenly, I need the contact like a drug addict.
“Hang on a sec.” He leaves the room, but he’s back thirty seconds later, holding a folded white T-shirt.
He sets it on the counter. “Something to wear. Sorry, I don’t have anything that will fit you.
We can borrow some clothes from Blade’s or Cannon’s girlfriends, or perhaps order a few things to tide you over.
I bet I can get something delivered this afternoon. ”
“Thank you. I don’t want you to go to any trouble.”
He steps closer and cups my face. His expression is odd. I think he’s almost grinning. “Sweetheart, if you want to wander around in my apartment wearing nothing but my T-shirts for days, I’m okay with that. But I suspect your legs will get cold.”
I shudder at the thought of wearing his shirt with nothing under it. He’s teasing me. Isn’t he?
After a wink, he reaches into the shower to turn on the water. “You’re also stuck with masculine scented shampoo, conditioner, and body soap for now. Towels are on the shelf. Do you need anything else?”
“No. Thank you,” I whisper. What I really want to say is, yes, stay with me. Get in the shower with me. Hold me. Wash me…
He grips the back of my neck one more time and then leaves me alone in the bathroom, shutting the door behind him with a soft snick.