21. Chapter Twenty-one
Chapter Twenty-one
Summer
“Are you going to answer that?”
Alec’s phone has been buzzing nonstop, but he is ignoring each call. I appreciate the gesture of him wanting to make sure I’m OK, but I am. I can’t stress it enough.
I was able to control my breathing eventually, even if I am still relatively in shock. It’s insane how thirty minutes can feel like two hours when you’re on the edge of a full-blown panic attack.
However, my mind is still racing, and I’m still unable to process what happened. I was there. I know what happened. But it doesn’t feel real.
“I’ll call them back. You’re more important to me right now.” His hold on me tightens, and I can’t help but nuzzle my face into him, counting each beat of his heart.
Is it possible to love the way someone’s heart sounds? Because I do.
“Plus, it’s only my director. He can wait.”
I crane my neck to look at him. “Alec, if it’s for your band, that is what’s important.”
The corner of his mouth curls upward. “I’ll answer it when you tell me who hit you.”
“Are you serious?”
“Dead fucking serious.”
I swallow the lump lodged in my throat and sit up. He sits up with me, keeping one leg around my back and the other hanging off the couch. After a long minute, I clear my throat. Saying it out loud makes it real, and I’m not sure I want to believe my father actually laid a hand on me. Alec waits patiently while I build up enough courage to tell him.
“My father.” My voice is low, shame skating through me.
I watch his expression as the color drains from his face. His body locks and his jaw cocks off to the side. His gray eyes, usually full of life, are now filled with hatred.
Not that he has a reason to hate my father, but I suppose he cares for me a lot more than I initially thought.
“Tell me what happened, and do not leave a single detail out,” he demands.
Shifting again, I take a large breath. Discomfort tears through my chest. “Well, I’m not positive where I should start.”
“The beginning.”
That’s easier said than done, but I do my best to pull the words together. It takes me a bit, but eventually I find them and start at the beginning.
I start with my mother’s funeral, and what I overheard the two officers say. I explain how my father has been very distant the past few days compared to how he used to be. As I explain everything to Alec, I fight to hold myself together. I don’t want to break down, but every cell in my body feels like it’s dying. My heart feels like it’s shattering. Before I know it, my lip starts to quiver and I start gasping for air again.
Alec holds me tight, rubbing gently circles on my arm. He doesn’t let go until my breathing is normal again, and I have better control of myself.
In all my life, I have never experienced this amount of pain. This much heartache. I didn’t realize how difficult it is to pretend to be OK.
Alec doesn’t say anything when I finish. He stares at me in a way I don’t want people to look at me–a look of sorrow.
I click my tongue. “Anyway.” There’s breakage in my hoarse voice. “I think it’s true.” His eyes narrow, but his expression doesn’t falter. I shift in my seat uncomfortably. “I think my father killed my mother.”
Alec looks as shocked as I feel, and from his tight expression and solid stare, I can tell that he’s still processing what I admitted.
“What makes you think your father has anything to do with it?” he asks.
“Well, my dad caught my mom cheating.” I swallow through the thickness in my throat. “The night she was found dead.”
Alec stares at me blankly, short of words. My heart beats faster, an uncomfortable feeling tingles in my belly. Please say something.
“Are you going to say something?” God, I need him to say something because if he continues to stare at me like that, I might start crying again.
He closes his eyes for a moment before opening them and looking at me. “Are you positive?”
“I wouldn’t make something like that up, Alec. He’s my father. Something is wrong, I’m telling you. I strongly believe he killed my mother or is hiding who did. I just need the proof.”
He nods, his lips pinned into a straight line. “How do you expect to get proof?”
I run my palms down my face and groan. “I don’t know. Look, can we talk about something else? I’m not really in the mood to even think about my father right now.”
Alec’s thumb presses against my cheek. I lean into it, loving the way his touch feels. “When was the last time you ate?”
Relief overtakes me, and I look at him through my lashes, trying to recall the last time I ate something. “I… don’t know.”
He claps his hands together and stands, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “OK, well, I’m getting you something to eat. Your stomach has been screaming at you since you’ve been here.”
Has it? I haven't noticed.
I watch him scroll through his phone before I look down. “I’m not hungry,” I mumble.
“Yeah, well, your stomach says otherwise. You need to eat. No exceptions. Now, what do you want?”
I roll my eyes. Even though I barely have an appetite, I don’t bother to argue because he won’t take no for an answer. “I guess I’ll have a Chicken Parmesan grinder.”
He smirks and types something into his phone. When he finds what he’s looking for, he holds up one finger for me to wait here before bringing the phone to his ear and heading into the kitchen. I can hear him place the order, but my mind drifts off.
When he comes back, I snuggle into his arms again, twirling the hem of his dark blue shirt.
“Hey, Alec?”
“Hmm?”
“Why do you call me sunshine?” I can feel his muscles move under the touch of my finger as I trace lines across his chest. I can tell he’s smiling without looking at him.
“Would you rather I call you babe?”
My head shoots to him in near disgust. “Ew, that’s so cliche. Plus, we’re not even dating.”
He shifts beneath me, thinking. “You bring light into my world, and I lost most of the light in my world a hell of a long time ago.”
I crane my neck, looking into his gray eyes. They’re so captivating. His words hug around my heart tight and the longer I stare at him, the more mesmerized I become.
His eyes fall to my lips, and at this moment I’m mentally begging him to kiss me. I want him to. I nearly melt as soon as I see his arm come up to my face, gently gripping my chin. He pulls my chin closer, and I lean in simultaneously. My mouth parts, ready to feel his lips against mine.
There’s a knock on the door right before our lips meet. I pull away at the same time Alec lets out a frustrated breath.
With a small tug of the corner of his lip, he says, “Let’s go eat.”
Eating is the last thing I want to do, but I get up anyway and let him drag me along into the kitchen. He pulls out a stool for me to sit on before he opens the door and grabs the subs from the delivery man. I stare into space in the meantime. My mind is still pondering back to his question from before.
How am I going to get the proof I need to prove that my father is behind my mother’s murder?
Alec plops down on the stool next to me, the brown paper bag crimping as he sticks his tattooed arm into the bag and pulls out one sub at a time, sliding mine over to me.
“Eat.”
I wish I could say I’m getting tired of his demands, but I’m not. I think it’s rather sweet that he actually cares if I eat or not.
“Yes, boss.”
He raises a brow at me, and I roll my eyes, sighing. After I unwrap my sandwich, I stare at it for a few moments. It looks delicious. Smells delightful. But I don’t want it.
Is this what happens when you’re depressed?
“Thank you, Alec.” I pick up my sub and take a tiny bite to make him happy.
“For what?”
The way he stuffs his food into the corner of his mouth has me laughing.
I look at my sandwich as if there is something wrong with it. I move it from side to side and upside down before placing it back onto the wrapper.
“I’m thankful for all of this. Everything you’ve done. Even by just being here for me. It’s been nice.”
I can feel his stare. “Anyone would be crazy not to want to be there for you.” His thumb comes in contact with my chin, giving a slight squeeze. “Would you like something to drink?”
I’ve never been a big drinker. Not caring for the taste, but honestly a drink sounds damn good after everything I’ve been through lately.
“Care to share your whiskey?”
“I’ll share anything with you,” he murmurs before getting up and grabbing two glasses.
The whiskey bottle pops open and Alec pours half into each glass. The sound of the dark liquor hitting the bottom of the glass reminds me of all those times I was at the ocean, shoving seashells against my ear to listen to the sound of waves.
“I know you don’t want to talk about it, but everything you’ve told me isn’t something you can avoid,” he says, placing the glass in front of me and sitting back down.
I make an ugly mocking face, knowing he’s right and hating that he is. “I know. It’s a lot. He’s still my father. Growing up, he’s was nothing but a loving, caring man. I… I don’t want to be right.”
I can see him nod as I bring my glass to my mouth for a sip. The small sip I thought I was taking turns into a mouthful, leaving me choking on the sting of it as it shifts down my throat.
Once the coughing stops, I shake my head. “I don’t understand how you even drink this.”
He chuckles. “I enjoy the taste once in a while. To be honest, this bottle is about two months old. The rest are years older.”
I scrunch my nose. “So, you buy more bottles to add to the collection?”
“Stop avoiding the conversation.”
I throw my head back. “I hate this.”
He slides the stool closer to me and swiftly moves his arm to rub my back. “Anyone would.” Silence falls, but Alec doesn’t stop touching me for a while before he adds, “Do you have access to his cases?”
“Why would I…” I pause, my mouth agape. “I can sneak into his office at the station.” Alec’s eyes shoot to mine at the same time I turn my head, a look of confusion and concern filling his eyes. “Officer Brentley. He and my father have been really good friends. He recently changed positions to work at the front desk at the station because he wanted to spend more time with his wife.”
Alec’s eyebrows crease. “How would he be able to help?”
“Typically, with my father’s position, he doesn’t continue a case after an arrest. That’s left up to the detectives to deal with, but my father said he was helping with a case, which means he has temporary access to case files.”
“You want to break into the station and potentially steal confidential information.” He states, his voice dipped with worry, and I understand why he would be.
“It’s the only way, Alec.”
He shakes his head, scratching his jaw. “If you get caught…”
“I won’t,” I cut him off. “I can do this.”
I know I can. I’m confident enough.
Alec doesn’t move his eyes off mine, and for a second, I think he’s about to talk me out of this. But then he nods.
I take a deep breath, knowing this is going to be one of the hardest things I have ever done, but if there is a chance, any chance at all, of getting my hands on my mother’s case file, it’s worth it. I could figure out who is behind her murder… even if it does turn out to be my father.
“One condition,” Alec adds, and my eyebrows furrow. “You are not doing this alone.”
My eyes shoot open, and I shake my head. “No. Absolutely not. Alec, no. You have a record. If I do get caught and you’re in on it, you’ll do jail time.”
Alec shrugs. “Well, we better not get caught.”
***
I place my hand over my eyes to block out the bright light shining through the window, the silk sheets soft against my arm. My hand pauses, and my eyes fling open.
This is not my blanket.
This is not my room.
A ball of anxiety flies through my chest as my subconscious recalls every incident that happened in the past twenty-four hours. The last thing I remember before my eyes drifted closed, leaving me in an endless slumber, is watching Fast & Furious with Alec on his couch.
I suck in a large breath, my eyes roaming around the room. Alec’s room.
I slept in Alec’s bed. I reach out, spreading my fingers against the other side of the bed. It’s empty. There is no evidence that Alec slept in here with me.
I push myself up and scoot off the bed. My stomach flips when I look down and notice a pair of Alec’s black sweatpants on me. Swinging my head around, I look for my shorts but come up empty.
My feet drag against the soft carpet in his room, and I carefully turn the doorknob, trying to remain as quiet as possible. Heat scorches between my legs when I open the door to see Alec sprawled out on the couch. He’s on his stomach in nothing but a pair of boxers.
My pulse rockets, along with that longing ache between my thighs.
I look around the room and spot my shoes and the shorts I was wearing neatly folded by the television, followed by my phone.
I tiptoe, trying my best to stay as quiet as I can so I don’t wake him. But I fail tremendously.
He lifts his head, his gaze dropping from my mouth down my frame, and my cheeks heat from how he stares at me hungrily.
“You look damn good in my pants.”
My head drops, but the smile on my face says it all. “I tried not to wake you.”
He flips onto his back, his arms resting behind his head. “I was already awake.”
I steal small glimpses of him through my lashes, admiring the tattoo across his chest. I never did get a good look at it. A pair of angel wings, ethereal and unfurling with a captivating elegance. A subtle shade of purple seamlessly blends into each feather.
It’s beautiful.
“Did you sleep out here all night?” I ask.
He nods, though his eyes remain closed. “You fell asleep. I didn’t want to wake you.”
I nod, even though he didn’t acknowledge it. “And the pants?”
His lips quirk upward. “I promise, I didn’t see beyond your panties.”
“I suppose we’re even then.” I tease, considering that I, too, haven’t seen beyond.
“I suppose so.”
I press my fingers to my forehead and chuckle in disbelief. “How did you manage to move me and undress me, and not wake me up?”
He shrugs, looking back at me. “Surprisingly, you’re a heavy sleeper.”
I’m typically a pretty normal sleeper, but given that I haven’t slept great the past couple of weeks, I suppose it has caught up to me. My subconscious self must feel comfortable here.
Bending down, I pick up my phone and shorts. My phone lights up in my palm, but as soon as I look at it, my stomach cramps, and anxiety creeps in.
Alec notices my mood shift, gets up and tugs his pants on. “What’s wrong?”
I look at him, fear lodged in my throat. “My dad.”