Chapter 6
Mikayla
I frown at Jonah. Is he expecting someone? I’m not. And he doesn’t live here, anyway, so…
He strides to the door and calls through, “Who is it?”
“My name’s Lyle. I work for Ironwood.”
The man’s voice is heavy, full of fatigue, but I can tell he means business.
Jonah glares at the door. “Sorry, not interested—”
“No, wait.” Mason eases me off his lap and stands. “He said Ironwood—I work there.”
I frown as Mason goes to the door. If he wants to deal with them, that’s fine with me. But I’m confused—why would Ironwood employees be showing up at my apartment?
Mason steps outside to talk with them. I exchange a puzzled look with Jonah. He quickly removes my leash. If we’re going to interact with these guys, we don’t need to share our kink with them.
A minute later, Mason returns. He gestures for two guys to follow him inside. One has auburn hair, and the other’s hair is black. They wear black shirts and black pants. Neither are as tall as Mason, but they still fill the room, which feels tiny with all these men standing around.
They look exhausted, though. Their black clothes are rumpled, their eyes are tired. I can’t tell if the whiskers on their faces are the result of art or accident.
Mason clears his throat. “Jonah, Mikayla—this is Austin and Lyle.” He points to the black-haired man, then the auburn-haired one. “They’re in the Hunter division at Ironwood.”
This makes absolutely no sense to me. “But—why are you here? I don’t need bodyguards.”
“We’re bounty hunters,” the auburn-haired man, Lyle, says.
Jonah shakes his head and steps slightly in front of me, like he’s protecting me. “Again, this doesn’t make sense to us.”
The black-haired guy, Austin, directs his bright blue gaze to Jonah. Both of his hands are covered in tattoos. His jacket prevents me from seeing if the tattoos go all the way up his arms. “Are you Jonah Croft? We need to talk to you.”
“Uh, yeah.” Jonah’s voice is puzzled. “This is my girlfriend’s place, though—if you’re looking for me, why are you here?”
“We’re looking for your cousin, Ariel Capulet.” Austin gives us an apologetic smile. “We thought she might’ve come to you for help.”
Jonah stands taller. “If she did, I sure as fuck wouldn’t be handing her over to you.”
“You don’t get it.” Lyle shakes his head. The intensity in his golden-brown eyes finally convinces me that these guys are sincere. “We’re trying to help her, too. We’ve been trying to track her down. Finding you, Jonah, was our last lead.”
I speak up. “She isn’t here. I promise.”
They exchange a look with each other.
Austin mutters, “Fuck.”
Lyle nods. “I know. What now?”
They still look dead on their feet, like they can’t even think straight.
“It’s, um, it’s Christmas.” I wave toward the kitchen. “You look hungry. Do you guys want some dinner? We have leftovers.”
Lyle perks up.
* * *
Mason
Mikayla’s thoughtfulness is one of the things I love about her.
I first noticed it in her friendship with Violet.
Because of the way Violet views and interacts with the world, making friends was more challenging for her.
But when I first met Mikayla last summer, I could see that she readily accepted Violet’s quirks.
She gets out leftovers for my very grateful coworkers. Austin and Lyle are good guys. I don’t interact with them often because they’re in the Hunter division of Ironwood, but I’ve seen them around. They’re always professional, respectful. They take their work seriously, which I appreciate.
They just as seriously attack the meals in front of them.
Mikayla watches them with a fascinated expression. “When’s the last time you guys ate something?”
Lyle pauses shoveling food into his mouth long enough to shrug at Austin. “Hmm. It was, what, breakfast?”
Austin swallows. “Yeah, yesterday.”
“Yesterday breakfast?” Mikayla grabs the dish of potatoes and sticks the whole thing in the microwave. “You need more food.”
“Thanks,” Austin says. “We’re so fucking hungry—I mean, we’re really hungry.”
At least they’re making an attempt to be polite.
Lyle finishes everything on his plate and eyes the microwave timer, likely counting down along with it to when he’ll get more potatoes. “Mason, man, you asked what we’re doing here—but what about you? Why are you here? I thought you were spending Christmas in Florida.”
“Um, that.” I hold in a sigh. “Things didn’t work out with Retta. We’re splitting up.”
“Shit, sorry.” Lyle frowns. “Are you okay?”
“I’m as okay as can be.”
Austin smirks as he looks between me and Jonah and then over to Mikayla, whose back is turned while she waits on the microwave. “You seem pretty okay.”
Fuck, I know what this must look like. Me, in my forties, pursuing a woman the same age as my daughter.
What am I doing here? Mikayla couldn’t possibly want me here when she already has Jonah.
The microwave beeps at the exact same time as Austin’s and Lyle’s phones. They both look at their devices and their eyes widen in shock.
“We gotta go.” Austin stands abruptly.
Lyle stands, too. “So sorry, thank you so much for dinner, Mikayla. It was very nice to meet you.”
They take their plates to the sink. I can tell they’re torn—they want to help clean up, but whatever notification they just got, they can’t ignore it.
Jonah waves them off. “I’ll handle the dishes. If you find Ariel…please, take care of her. She’s one of my favorite people.”
They nod solemnly. Lyle says, “We will.”
“I’ll walk you out,” I say as they move to the door. “I should head home, anyway. Thank you again, Mikayla and Jonah. Dinner was really great.”
Mikayla’s mouth opens and closes. She starts forward, but Jonah takes her hand.
“Let him go.” Jonah’s voice is a whisper, but I hear it just the same. “It’s okay, pet. I’m still here.”
I feel like a fucking asshole. But I can’t keep pretending.
Seeing Lyle and Austin, and that look they gave me and Mikayla, it brought everything back.
With Retta, I tried to be proper and calm and vanilla.
That didn’t work, because that isn’t me.
With Mikayla, I’m going to try to be, what, young? That’s even more preposterous.
Austin and Lyle are out the door, already out of sight down the hall. They must have gotten a new lead on Ariel. I follow behind, feeling like my my life is ending. Every instinct screams at me to go back.
But this is best for everyone—I should go my own way before I get even more invested, before I fall harder for Mikayla.
I make my way down the stairs and out of the building, out to the middle of the parking lot.
The streetlights barely penetrate the darkness.
My heart feels as if it’s being carved from my chest. Slowly.
With a dull knife. It’s cold, probably the coldest day southern California has seen this year.
I hunch my shoulders against the chill, and against the pain in my chest.
This hurts. Leaving her hurts.
I’m being an old fool. Shouldn’t I try for happiness when I can?
Running away from the potential is only going to hurt more in the end.
Retta’s betrayal was on her, not me. I thought learned a lesson from it, to never lose myself in a woman again…
but maybe it wasn’t the right lesson. Because losing myself in Mikayla feels safe.
I turn around. Is it too late to go back inside, to knock on her apartment door, to ask for another chance?
The main door of her complex opens before I reach it. And none other than Mikayla rushes outside.
She isn’t even wearing a coat, just that little red velvet dress.
“Mr. Clark!” She hurries over to me. “Mason!”
It’s the first time she’s called me by my first name.
“What are you doing, Mikayla? You’ll freeze.” I shrug out of my coat and wrap it around her shoulders.
She shivers. “You left and we didn’t get to talk and I have some things to ask you.”
“I was coming back—”
“Shh, it’s my turn to talk.” She pushes a finger against my lips. “I have questions.”
I smile against the contact. “Okay. Ask your questions.”
“Earlier, you said you shouldn’t want me.” Her eyes shine with pain. “Why is that? What’s wrong with me that would make you not want me?”
“Mikayla.” I sigh. “I’m so fucking sorry. I didn’t realize it sounded that way to you. I said I shouldn’t want you—as in, it’s wrong of me. Not that there’s anything wrong with you.”
“Wrong of you?” She thinks about it, her nose scrunched. “Oh, crap. Because of Violet.”
“Violet. And our ages.” She’s so young, so pristine. So fucking sweet, I can’t stand it. But I crave her all the same. “I feel like a dirty old man when I look at you.”
“How old are you, anyway?” Mikayla asks. “Because Jonah’s older than me, too.”
“I’m forty-five.” I fold my arms across my chest. “Quite a bit older than Jonah, aren’t I?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She folds her arms across her chest, mimicking me. “He’s thirty-one. I don’t mind big age gaps. And I don’t care how old you are. What matters is how we feel.”
I’m quiet for a long time. The cold, southern California air swirls around us. “I want you to be happy—don’t you get it? Mikayla, fuck. I was leaving for you, not because of you. Because I love you. I can’t stay away, but shouldn’t you be young and in love, without me holding you back?”
“You’re being stupid. I’ve been in love with you since we met. Please.” She tugs on my shirt sleeve. “Come back inside. Spend the night with us. Spend every night with us.”
The building’s main door opens again. Jonah steps out. He searches the parking lot, craning his neck, until his gaze lands on us.
“I don’t know if your Dom would like this.”
Mikayla gives me a bratty little smile. “I already spoke with him about it. But why don’t we talk to him together, and find out?”