Hayden (A Next Generation Carter Brother Novel Book 4)

by Lisa Helen Gray

  His lips form a word, but a car door slamming nearby stops him from speaking.

  We both turn to find Reid stepping out of his pick-up, a grin on his face as he zips up his jeans. His hair is tousled, his cheeks flushed. If I hadn’t just been rejected after sharing the best kiss of my life, I would yell something dirty, happy he got some.

  What shocks me is Cassandra stepping out behind him, wiping her mouth before smoothing her dress out.

  At least tonight worked out for someone.

  I snort, glaring at Clayton. “You can find your own way home.”

  I unlock my car, getting inside and quickly locking it again. It takes him a moment to pull his gaze away from Reid and Cassandra and take notice.

  His knuckles tap on the glass, yet I ignore him, unable to face him as I slip out of my shoes and slide into my Uggs.

  “Hayden,” he calls, his voice getting louder. “Hayden, wait.”

  I start my car, giving him a chance to move. My expression must express just how I’m feeling right now, because he steps back, getting out of the way.

  The last thing I see before driving out of the car park is his head bowed as he runs a hand through his hair.

  If I wasn’t so confused by the hurt and pain running through my chest, I would have reversed into him. It’s what I would have done had he been anyone else.

  I hate that I don’t know what makes him different. Why I feel different when I’m around him. And as hard as I’ve tried not to, I like him. Not in a way where he has potential. He’s the real deal. That kiss was everything my parents had warned me about.

  “You’ll know he’s the one by the kiss, Hayden. It will be like your first kiss, even if you’ve been kissed before. Time will stop, you’ll get this intense flutter in your stomach, and it will hurt to pull away. He’ll be the only one to steal your breath with a kiss and make you see stars. Someone whose kisses are like that… he’s the one,” my mum had told me as a teenager. Her wisdom had stayed with me, and I knew I’d never settle for anyone without that kiss.

  My dad, however, had another kind of wisdom to pass down.

  “If someone kisses you like that, you should at least be thirty. Otherwise, knee the fucker in the balls and run. Run like you’ve never run before.”

  I should have gone with my dad’s advice.

  If I had, I wouldn’t be driving on dark, windy roads with angry tears pouring down my cheeks.

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  Gears 5 is paused on the television as I get comfortable on the sofa, a new tub of cookie dough ice cream in hand.

  It’s definitely needed after the phone call I had with Christina’s boss. He was an arrogant prick, more bothered that someone else was going to jump on the headline story before him. So far, they could only speculate and ask for any witnesses to come forward, which doesn’t exactly sell papers.

  I have one more lead, but to pursue it, I need Liam to get me into the files Rob was unwilling to share with me.

  The past twenty-four hours couldn’t have gone more wrong. It’s like the universe is against me.

  After leaving the restaurant last night, I hit a drive-through and stewed on my anger. The touch and memory of our kiss was embedded in my head; it played over and over until I got to bed and fell asleep. Not even the best kiss I’d ever had could keep me from sleep. Nothing could.

  He has fully managed to screw with my head, and that isn’t an easy feat. I’m made of steel.

  I kept replaying our moment, giving alterative endings. I went from him pulling me into his arms and whispering how much he wanted to take me home, to hitting him with my car as I pulled out of the car park.

  I’m never at a loss for words. I have comebacks for everything. Which is why I spent the morning sulking, angry I didn’t have anything to say to him. I’m not fond of this feeling. I’m giving myself until two to pout, and then I’m going to pull on my big girl pants and move on.

  I have two weeks off after this week, and I plan on spending it by getting my shit together.

  And drunk.

  With Faith’s hen/stag party coming up, there will be plenty of alcohol involved to soothe my wounded pride.

  My mobile vibrates on the coffee table, pulling my attention away from my thoughts. Reluctantly, I place my ice cream on the table before picking up my phone.

  “Hey, Liam.”

  “Hey, trouble.”

  “Did you find what we needed?”

  Laughter slips through the phone. “Not even your dad was this demanding, and he could win awards for being a diva.”

  “Let’s not rehash the old times,” I tease, knowing he loves me.

  “Old times,” he mutters. “I’m not old.”

  “You know I love you really.”

  “Which is why I’m doing this, kid. I got into the paper’s records and they’re telling the truth. There are no records of the story she was working on. But her computer was wiped clean. Whoever cleaned it knew what they were doing because I couldn’t find a trace anywhere.”

  “I was certain there was something there. Her boss has been avoiding my calls all week, and today he couldn’t get me off the phone quick enough.”

  “You can be difficult,” he tells me hesitantly.

  I beam at the praise. “Thank you.” It wasn’t how I interpreted our phone call, however. “What about the witness Rob mentioned?”

  “Are you positive they got a statement?”

  “Yes. He said there was nothing they could use though.”

  “He saw this statement?”

  What is he getting at?

  “I didn’t ask. I only assumed he had. He said a colleague went to take it. Why?”

  “Because it doesn’t exist, Hayden.”

  That can’t be right.

  “How is that even possible? They have a name.”

  “I’ve looked through their entire system, not just that case file.”

  “Isn’t that illegal?”

  “Technically, yes, but I helped improve their computer security. I’d say that gives me rights.”

  I roll my eyes. “Of course it does.”

  “I dug deeper on the name you gave me in case something stood out as weird. I got nothing. I do have an address. I’ll email it to you.”

  “Thanks, but what about this statement?”

  “Not sure, kid,” he tells me, but I detect the lie rolling off his tongue. “The system hasn’t been hacked. That would have come up when I did a system check.”

  “So, whoever changed it had access.” I mull that over, none of the scenarios good. However, it still doesn’t give me a link as to how that’s connected to Christina’s murder and the break-ins.

  “I’m not sure. I don’t know what was in the statement to say whether it was worthless information or if someone thought it was important to remove. Either way, it shouldn’t have been removed from their file. It should be on their system, even if the statement was removed. The only way this exists at the moment is by word of mouth.”

  “I’ll think on it, see what I can come up with. I’ll keep it from Rob for the time being. Because if it has gone or been misplaced, it will put him in a difficult situation.” I take in a steady breath. “I’ll go see the witness and hopefully get some answers.”

  “Hayden, maybe you should drop this or get Beau to look into it. He’s new there and won’t have problems looking into what happened.”

  “I don’t want to get Beau involved for that reason. He’s made a home here. I don’t want to get him fired. Then he’d have to work away somewhere.”

  His heavy sigh sounds conflicted. “Just don’t do this alone, for heaven’s sake. I don’t want your dad to revoke my Godfather status.”

  “Didn’t he already do that when you gave us those sour Haribo’s?”

  He sniffs. “He didn’t mean it. He knew he deserved it after getting me drunk and putting me in that rubber dinghy on the river. I woke up to two swans going at it and no idea where the fuck I was.”

>   A burst of laughter slips free before I pull myself together. “I won’t go alone, I promise.”

  “Take Landon. No one will think to fuck with you then.”

  As much as I trust my brother to take care of me, I couldn’t put him in that position.

  Ever since the moment I felt him die, I’ve worried constantly about him. I could survive the pain of losing anyone, no matter how it hurt or what they meant to me, but if I ever lost one of my brothers, I would die inside. They’re a part of me in a way no one else could or ever would be. We’re triplets.

  “I’ll see if he’s free,” I lie.

  “Okay, I need to get going, so I’ll speak to you later.”

  “All right. Love you, Uncle Liam.”

  “Love you too, kid.”

  After ending the call, I take stock of the ice cream tubs and junk food wrappers littering my table.

  I’m pathetic.

  It’s enough to get me off my arse and to my feet. I don’t mope. I don’t dwell. And this story isn’t going to write itself.

  I know exactly who can go with me, since they were meant to be coming over here at two.

  *** *** ***

  Slamming my car door shut, I then lock my car, hating that I have to leave the warmth of my car heater.

  We always park outside Lily’s house when we visit Charlotte. Her driveway is down a small lane between Lily’s and the library Charlotte owns on the corner. It’s a small cul-de-sac of some kind hidden behind the houses and other buildings next to the library.

  Since Charlotte only has room for one car, we all park here and use Lily’s garden to get there. It saves us having to walk down her shitty lane that has potholes and mud puddles when it rains, and from getting stung by the overgrown stingers to the side.

  Blanche slams the lid on her bin down when she notices me.

  “Why are you here?” she yells, her voice like nails on a chalkboard.

  “Why are you? Aren’t you past your expiry date?”

  A gruff growl escapes her. “You are the spawn of Satan.”

  I shudder. “If it wouldn’t offend my beauty, I’d say that made you my mother.”

  “I’m going to get you banned from coming here.”

  I shrug, knowing it will never happen. “Try.”

  “Is everything okay?” Lily’s soft, musical voice asks.

  She steps outside, wrapped in a long beige wool coat and a matching set of brown gloves and a hat. Jaxon steps out behind her, shutting the door with a smirk on his lips when he’s sees who I’m talking to.

  Prick.

  I sigh. “Blanche was trying to get me to set her up with someone.”

  Lily smiles, her entire face lit up with happiness. “That is so amazing.”

  “She’s lying. Stay away, evil child,” Blanche growls, slamming her door shut behind her.

  “Were you coming to see me? Lily asks, chewing her lower lip. “We were on our way out.”

  The guilt on her face has me reassuring her quickly. “I’m just going to see Charlotte, but I will catch up with you when you’re free.”

  She lets go of her lip, visibly relaxing. “I’d really love that.”

  “I’ll catch you both later.”

  “Wait, who are you setting Blanche up with?”

  My gaze flicks from Lily to Jaxon, who looks smug as fuck.

  “Jaxon’s granddad.”

  I leave him with his mouth hanging open and race up the garden to the small gate Maverick installed a little while ago to make it easier for us to come back and forth.

  Letting myself in, I hear sobbing and head towards the sound. What’s she got herself into now? As I pass a set of shelves in her hallway, I see a flicker of movement and duck in time to miss her cat taking a swipe at me.

  The thing hisses, so I hiss back, baring my teeth. “Don’t make me lock you outside,” I warn it, before stepping into the front room.

  The scene before me doesn’t surprise me. Charlotte has always been nutty—it’s why she’s my favourite. But what does surprise me is the gruesome scene on the television.

  “You got scared to tears again?”

  Jumping, Charlotte spills her bowl of popcorn. “Oh, Hayden, it’s so sad.”

  I glance at the television to check I’m seeing this right.

  I am.

  My brows draw together. “What is?”

  “He was bullied by the kids at his school and his parents always made fun of him. That one,” she says, pointing to a brown-haired chick with an axe, “just taunted him about it and then killed him.”

  “Isn’t he the killer?” I ask, motioning to the creepy looking thing on the screen as I sit down, grabbing a handful of popcorn.

  “Yes.”

  “Then why are you crying?”

  She bursts into tears again as the credits begin to roll. “It was so sad. He only wanted to be loved.”

  “Well, okay then,” I mutter, before realising she’s alone. “I thought you were spending the morning with Scott?”

  She’s suddenly interested in flicking through Netflix. “We should find a movie.”

  “What happened?” I ask, leaving no room for argument.

  She shifts on the sofa, facing me. “I upset him. He thinks he likes me more than I like him.”

  “And if he did like you more than you liked him, what’s the problem?”

  I hate this Scott already, and I’ve not even met him. They just met. They should be getting to know one another, not having a competition on who cares for whom more.

  “I really like him. I do. But I think I’m doing it wrong.”

  Please don’t let this be about sex.

  “Doing what wrong?”

  “Being a girlfriend. I keep messing up.” Her bottom lip begins to tremble.

  “Does he tell you that?” I ask softly, hiding the need to yell about the piece of shit.

  I can sense the lie before she even opens her mouth. Her gaze diverts to the side and she twists her fingers together in her lap.

  “No. No, nothing like that.”

  “Charlotte,” I warn.

  “What do you want to watch?”

  Sighing, I let her think I’m dropping it. I’m not. I’m going to give this Scott a real Carter greeting and let Landon know to do the same.

  He’s going to feel like shit once he finds out. He loves Charlotte. They’ve been close our whole lives. I think his hero complex was drawn to her bubbly personality and naivety.

  With Paisley now in his life, he’s not been around as much, and it’s starting to show. I don’t want some toss pot thinking he can take advantage of her. She’s family. No one fucks with my family.

  “Why don’t we watch Grey’s Anatomy until it’s time to go out?” I offer, giving her a small smile.

  “Out where?” she asks, visibly relaxing.

  “I’ll explain later.” She’s definitely holding back, but until she’s ready to talk, there’s no use in trying to push her. “What episode should we watch?”

  “Ooh, we could watch the episode where Izzy gets married.”

  I roll my eyes. “Or the one where McDreamy dies.”

  She twists her lips. “That’s not really a cheerful episode.”

  “Really? You just sat here crying over a serial killer. Horror movies aren’t meant to make you cry.”

  She mulls over my words before shrugging. “All right, as long as you skip to the part where she tells people he’s dead.”

  “After we watch the car scene.”

  “Deal.”

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  “You are so kind to do this, Hay,” Charlotte comments as I follow the directions on the sat nav.

  “I know. I love to give,” I murmur, my thoughts on the tea hamper I put together. I’m hoping it isn’t too much. It didn’t feel right turning up empty handed though. And the residents at Nightingale care home swear by the tea.

  “Tell me again how you found out she witnessed a break-in and was shaken up. You didn’t an
swer earlier.”

  For good reason. I hate lying. Sure, sometimes it’s fun to mess with people by overemphasizing or stretching out the truth, but outright lying to Charlotte seemed wrong. But sometimes, it was a necessity, like now. It’s not because she could find out what I do for a living but because I know she would worry, and when Charlotte worries, she bakes and gets chatty. It never ends well. For anyone. Especially if she’s really stressed and screams at you to try her cake. You eat that cake because, although it’s rare she ever loses her temper, when she does she’s a completely different person. But then they do say redheads have a hot temper.

  Knowing it’s the only way to save my stomach from being pumped again, I answer, “Her dad is a resident at the care home. I went to take him lunch and he asked me to check in on her, said he knew she was lying about being okay over the phone.”

  “You should show the others this side of you. They wouldn’t call you a witch. You’re so kind and always helping others.”

  “They just hate that they aren’t me,” I tell her, knowing it was Aiden and Mark who called me a witch. They’re still sore that I got out of paying for our tab when I caused a fight between them and another group of lads.

  “You’re right. I’ve always wished I was more like you,” she tells me, glancing down at her phone.

  We come to a stop at a red light, so I turn to her, waiting until she meets my gaze to answer. “Don’t ever be anything but you. You are special in a way other people wish they were. Never Change.”

  Her eyes dilate, filling with tears. “I won’t,” she promises, before I go back to paying attention to the road.

  “We’re here,” I tell her a few minutes later. I slow down to read the house numbers.

  When Rita’s, the witness’s house, comes into view, I pull into the nearest parking space.

  I pull out my phone, scrolling through my emails. “I just need to double check something.”

  I want to make sure I have everything right, so I don’t go up there and fuck up. After all, I’m going to pretend to be the granddaughter of the woman who was hurt when she had her house broken into.

  According to the information I have, she never moved back in, which gives me a chance to pass this off.