Complete Fixed: The Complete Fixed Series: Books 1-5

by Laurelin Paige

  I needed to let her into the investigation too, even more than I’d needed to make love to her. I needed her with me, despite preferring that she be kept safe and sheltered from it. I needed her, even though I hated more than anything that she had to know she had a reason to be scared.

  Honestly, I needed her because I was scared too.

  13

  Alayna

  Hudson was on the phone when I got out of the shower and wandered into the front room looking for him. He had cleaned up first, and was wearing some khakis he must have stowed somewhere in the loft. Khakis and nothing else.

  My stomach performed somersaults as my eyes traced along his broad shoulders and down the sinewy strands of his biceps. He was so strong. So capable. So worthy of being my protector. I trusted him with every part of me.

  He turned in my direction as he heard me enter the room, his eyes dilating at the sight of me wrapped only in a towel, but he kept focused on his conversation.

  "Thank you," he was saying. "We both appreciate it." He paused to listen. After a second, his eyelids shut briefly before he opened them again—his version of an eye roll. "Yes, Mirabelle, I should have talked to Alayna earlier, but we are working it all out now. I promise. We will see you Sunday and you can interrogate me about it then."

  I bit back a smile. So Mirabelle had been on my side too.

  I was less irritated with the way things at the boutique had turned out, knowing she'd chewed out Hudson as well.

  "She's watching the kids?" I asked as I patted the ends of my hair dry with a towel.

  "Yes. Jordan's team is taking them over to her house. She’ll keep them for the weekend."

  We’d decided this before I'd showered, but I needed reassuring of the plan.

  "And it won't be too much of a handful for her? Having all those kids plus hers?"

  "I sent Payton to help, and Mirabelle has a nanny of her own. She also said something about Sophia coming by—you know how she likes to hover over the grandkids." He picked up a button-down that he must've pulled from the closet and began putting it on.

  "And it will be safe enough at her house?" I hated asking, because it felt like the other Alayna— the one who worried too much. The one who fretted over nonsensical, ridiculous things.

  But I reminded myself that this time the question was warranted.

  "Mirabelle's house has state-of-the-art security," he said reassuringly. "And on top of that, we have some of Jordan’s guys watching. Mirabelle already knows, so she won't kick them off the property."

  I nodded, taking a deep breath in and then letting it go. Letting go of the worry. Or at least letting it loosen a bit.

  Maybe all it did was redirect my worry. His comment about men at Mirabelle's reminded me of what Stacy had said when I'd been at the boutique, and then I had a new concern. "H, does Jordan have men watching Mirabelle's store too?"

  He looked at me carefully. "Would you prefer the answer was yes or no?"

  “I would prefer the answer is true," I said back with a huff, although I did hope it was a yes. If whoever was hanging around my sister-in-law wasn’t one of ours, the implications were concerning.

  He chuckled. "There are men watching her store while she's open. But don't take that to mean that the threat has extended further than those letters you read. I've just been taking extra precautions."

  I loved that about him—that he was always extra cautious. That he never missed any details. I relied on that trait now. "I'm glad you did. Though Stacy's noticed them, and I think it might've been a good idea to give her and your sister a heads-up, because both of them can be pretty dramatic when they want to be about anything out of the ordinary. But I'm glad you are looking out for them."

  He shrugged, as if to say he thought his methods were completely fine. I hadn’t really expected otherwise. His confidence, that unshakeable force, was something that I found very attractive.

  I shook my head again, tossing the towel I’d been using on my hair onto the floor.

  "By the way, Jordan stopped by with some clothes for you while you were in the shower. He picked them up from the penthouse. I laid them on the bed for you." The heat of his gaze trapped me, pinning me in place. “Or. You could wait to get dressed. And I could get undressed again."

  Warmth spread over the entirety of my skin, but I pulled away from his stare and marched toward the bedroom. "Stay dressed. That wasn't the reason we asked Mirabelle to take the kids."

  His sultry tone followed after me. "You mean it wasn't the only reason.”

  "I don't seem to remember it being on the list at all." I found a pair of panties and stepped into them, long past the embarrassment of Hudson's assistants seeing my personal items. "We’re supposed to be working as a team to figure out who's harassing our family."

  I began to put on my bra, reaching behind me to do the hook-and-eye.

  "I think we work best as a team when I'm inside you."

  His voice was closer this time. I turned and found him in the doorframe, watching me.

  Honestly, if he kept looking at me like that, he was going to win this dispute.

  I hurried to pull a T-shirt over me, hoping he'd be more focused if I were more covered. "Can we at least eat dinner first?" I asked. “I’m starving.”

  "Dinner first," he nodded, but he didn't move. And didn't stop staring.

  "Dinner where we lay everything out on the table? Clear things up? Get on the same page?"

  He nodded again. "Everything on the table."

  “Not me on the table,” I added quickly, in case he was taking this another direction. “The things you’ve been keeping from me.”

  “All of that is a part of everything,” he smirked.

  I could agree to that.

  But I made a mental note that before there was any more sexing, I also wanted to talk about to the New Park School incident as well. With all that had been going on and not speaking to him, I hadn’t told him yet. And I was really desperate to find out about Judith Cleary’s threat.

  "Good. Thank you." I walked to him, draping my arms around his neck. He responded by wrapping his arms around my waist and pulling me closer. I gave him a quick kiss that I could tell he would easily make longer if I let him.

  I didn’t let him.

  But I liked the mood he was setting. I wanted to follow it through. "Can dinner be out somewhere?" A couple’s getaway hadn’t been the purpose of this weekend, but maybe Hudson had the right idea. We hadn't had much time together lately. I couldn't even remember the last time we'd been on a date.

  He looked down at me regretfully. "That sounds wonderful, precious. However, since we sent extra men to be at Mirabelle's, the team is a little stretched. I'd prefer we stay in. This building has an armed guard twenty-four seven."

  I frowned. The bubble of my date night was burst as fast as the idea had come.

  His statement also reminded me that he seemed to think we were in real danger. Not Alayna’s overactive imagination version of danger, but the kind of danger that made him feel like he wasn’t enough to keep me safe on his own.

  Seeming to sense my distress, he quickly worked to soothe me. "Compromise? We order in, but eat on the rooftop. How does that sound?"

  "Romantic. Thank you, H." I suddenly remembered I had my dress from Mirabelle’s with me. Maybe this could be a sort of date night after all. Threats and tension and secrets revealed notwithstanding.

  I moved my hands to his chest and began to push away so I could finish changing, but he pulled me closer, and spun me so my back was against the bedroom wall.

  "Why didn't you tell me about Lee Chong and your plans for The Sky Launch?" he asked, his expression serious.

  My stomach dropped a little to hear him. His tone wasn't angry or judgmental. Rather, he sounded hurt. As hurt as I had been when he hadn't included me in his life.

  We did say all secrets on the table, and I did want to tell him about this, but it felt so insignificant next to everything else going on. How
could I possibly spend tonight’s valuable time together blathering on about vinyl records when our family was at risk?

  So I downplayed. "It really isn't anything I spent much time on. Just a passing—"

  "I saw your plans. You've obviously spent extensive time on it." Again, there was no accusation.

  "You saw my plans?" I hadn't shown anyone but Gwen.

  "I found the folder on the desktop of your laptop. Your PowerPoint was very thorough."

  A burst of indignation shot through me. "You went through my laptop!"

  He went on as though there were nothing upsetting about that at all. "While you were sleeping. The plans were brilliant. I loved every detail. The coffee shop and merchandising area was one of the highlights."

  I was only somewhat mollified by his compliments, and attempted to cross my arms over my chest, but he still had me trapped against the wall, and he grabbed my arms instead and pinned them over my head. “Why are you fussing?”

  "You looked at my laptop behind my back," I grumbled.

  "And you went through those letters that I had laid out while I was sleeping," he said, with a smirk.

  He didn’t quite have the point he thought he did—those letters were out in the open, versus my closed and stored laptop. Not that I was going to argue it with him, so we just held each other's gaze for several seconds.

  Finally, I asked, "You really thought it was good?"

  "Brilliant," he repeated, sincerely. "Why wouldn't you tell me about that? Did you think I wouldn't support you? Did you think that I would object to you expanding the nightclub?"

  I suddenly felt vulnerable, my arms in the air, his eyes piercing into me. Seeing into me. Poking around in the deepest parts of me. Just like he’d always done so well.

  I lowered my head. "I thought you'd say it wasn’t the right time." My voice sounded smaller than I meant it to.

  "Why? Because the twins are still so young? It was you who said you wanted to be home with them. I can't believe that I ever gave you the impression that I wouldn't want you working if that was what you wanted. I have always supported you in—"

  I cut him off. "Because I didn't think you thought I could handle it. Not so soon. Not so soon after…"

  His brow furrowed for a second before he understood my meaning. "That's your fear talking, Alayna. It's not fair to use me to personify your doubts. If you say you need to work, then you need to work. If you say you need to be on a beach in the Virgin Islands, then that’s where we’ll go. If you say you need another baby—"

  I stopped him right there. "I don't need another baby."

  He smiled. "You know what you need. And I'll support whatever that is."

  I felt my eyes getting wet. "But you don't really think my head’s a crazy mess?" My voice cracked. “The other day, it seemed like you were afraid of my state of mind.”

  He dropped my wrists so that he could cup my face with one hand. "Your mind is the reason I fell in love with you, precious. Your sexy, brilliant, incredible, crazy, mess of a mind. Maybe it feels like it's chaos in there sometimes, but I promise I wouldn't want you any other way."

  That right there was why I didn’t want him any other way, either.

  “Damn,” Hudson said when I walked out onto the roof forty-five minutes later.

  While he’d ordered tapas and set up a table and chairs, I’d put on the wrap dress I’d purchased earlier in the day. I’d done what I could with what makeup I had in my purse, styled my hair, and by the time I was done, I thought I looked pretty dang good for a mother of three.

  I looked pretty dang good, period.

  “Turn around,” Hudson said, practically growling out the command.

  I complied, spinning slowly. Seductively.

  “Are you sure we have to eat dinner first?” he teased. “Because I’m suddenly hungry for something other than food.”

  Actually, he was probably dead serious, from the way his eyes had turned dark and liquid. It was amazing to me, seeing this now, that I had ever worried we had lost our spark. What we’d lost was the kind of raw honesty, the uninhibited lust you could only get when you’re completely focused on the other person.

  But it seemed that, along with my own confidence, our communication was back.

  “I’ll feed you,” I promised. “Whatever you want to eat. But first you assured me we’d talk.”

  “I did say we’d do that, didn’t I?” The sensual darkness in his eyes stayed, but his smile turned from predatory to warm, and I wondered to myself for the thousandth time—how did I get so lucky?

  He took my hand and walked me to the round table set up in a small corner of the roof. Somehow he’d managed to scrape up a tablecloth and a pair of candlesticks as well. It was exactly the romantic scene I’d imagined.

  “This is perfect, H,” I said, as he pulled out my chair for me to sit in.

  “You’re perfect. Stunning, really.” He seemed to remember something and added, “Also, you’re smart, funny, brave, and enough. According to Mina, it’s not appropriate to only compliment a woman on her looks.”

  I laughed. “She’s amazing.”

  “She’s you.”

  “She’s you, too.” I sat down, and he pushed my chair into the table.

  “She is,” he agreed, then went to sit at his own seat.

  The food was already set out on the table, the wine already poured. My stomach grumbled. I hadn't eaten much of my lunch, and I was hungry, but food still didn't interest me as much as details. Not with so many questions left unanswered.

  "What was the first letter you received?" I asked, watching as Hudson began loading items onto his plate.

  He looked at me sternly. "You need to eat, Alayna."

  "I'm not going—"

  "I will talk, as long as you are eating."

  I quickly grabbed a roll and stuffed a piece of it in my mouth, smiling smugly in his direction. "I'm eating," I said when I'd swallowed. "Now go."

  He laughed to himself, as though he shouldn't have been surprised that I would have behaved any other way. Then he sighed, seriousness settling back over him like a suit. "The first letter arrived when you were five months pregnant with the twins."

  I rewarded him for beginning the story by scooping some goat cheese and mandarin salad onto my plate.

  He went on. "You had just been put on bedrest. The letter had shown up mixed in with some files from Human Resources, folded in a plain white envelope, no address. It was a mystery how it got to me without being screened, which made it unusual right off the bat. The language as well was deeply personal. Not many people were aware of your bedrest situation. That was still new—and it’s not like I spend much time discussing our personal lives with other people regardless. Normally a vague letter such as that wouldn't cause alarm, except for those details. I handed it off to Jordan, who assured me it was nothing. A prankster. Someone with a chip on his shoulder. Possibly someone even in the building—which would explain how they’d known about you, perhaps a stray word from Patricia overheard. Jordan said he’d get to the bottom of the matter. He didn't recommend further action at that time."

  "But you increased security at home and at The Sky Launch." If it hadn't been that big of a deal, why had he made that move?

  Hudson looked only mildly surprised that I had learned this information. "You've been doing your own investigating, I see. Yes, I did increase security. The letter made me realize we hadn't had an update in a while, and the personalization had jarred me—I won't lie. I was more anxious than usual, with your difficult pregnancy, and I recognized that I might be overreacting, but it was better to be safe than sorry."

  "And you didn't tell me because…"

  "Because I knew I was being ridiculous. Paranoid. I wasn't about to concern you with something that should have been a dead issue. Especially when Dr. Addison had warned that you needed to stay away from stress." He lifted his glass of wine and took a swallow. "Certainly, you can understand that."

  I paused. Stud
ied his face. Searched for any of his tells to see if he was manipulating the story. Not that I didn't trust my husband, just… sometimes he liked to think he was saying and doing things for my benefit, and occasionally that involved a little futzing of the truth.

  Everything about his expression and his posture though, said he was sincere.

  "Yes. I can understand why you didn't tell me then. Go on." I placed another forkful of food in my mouth to demonstrate I was keeping up with my part of the bargain. Hudson swallowed back a broiled shrimp himself before continuing.

  "I'd almost stopped having nightmares about the first letter when the second letter came. It showed up in the mailroom, addressed to me personally, so it was screened for toxic substances, but not read. It was delivered to me in a stack with a bunch of other items at the penthouse, because you had just given birth."

  My mind played quickly through the lines I remembered from the letters I had read. "That must be the one that had a line like, ‘Congratulations, you must think you're the man of the year twice over.’"

  "That one," he confirmed. "This was letter two, so it was obviously more alarming. Jordan ran all the tests, traced the return address to a post office downtown. Every lead led to a dead end. Again, Jordan believed it was just someone jealous of my life. Someone particularly triggered by my happy family. He didn't believe there was any real threat involved, and indeed, since the language in that letter was much more benign, it was easier to put out of my mind."

  "And you didn't tell me about it because I just had twins and it wasn't a big deal and even your head of security wasn't worried. Blah blah blah. Right?" I was giving him a hard time, but that was our thing.

  "Would you have said something, were you in my place?" he challenged as he popped a cherry tomato in his mouth.

  "Probably not," I conceded. "But definitely the third letter—"

  "Came six months later." That's all he said.