The Billionaire's Son

by Sharon Hartley

  “I thought this was a rehab center,” Kelly said. “What’s with all these kids?”

  “And halfway house,” the woman said. “And shelter for abused women. Father Hernandez does what he can for those in need.”

  Something in the woman’s voice made Kelly glance her way.

  “Are you in need of aid?” the woman asked softly.

  “Maybe,” Kelly said. That was the impression she’d wanted to create, that she was a druggie in search of a safe spot to crash.

  “A friend of mine says he got clean here,” Kelly said. “Did I get that wrong?”

  “Who is your friend?”

  “Adam Chandler.”

  “I don’t know him, but go inside and talk to Sister Aleta,” the woman said.

  “Yeah, maybe,” Kelly muttered, not wanting to seem too eager. Sister Aleta? Father Hernandez. Was this facility run by a church?

  “Tell her that Nancy sent you.”

  “Thanks.”

  Kelly moved off, scanning the crowd one more time for any sign of Adam. She didn’t see him anywhere, or even anyone that looked like him, so retraced her earlier path and entered the doorway beneath the large sunburst design, which made her think of a benevolent all-seeing eye.

  A plump fortyish woman wearing jeans and a T-shirt with the same logo of the sun greeted her with a smile. “May I help you?”

  “I’m looking for Sister Aleta,” Kelly said, deciding to go with Nancy’s advice.

  “She’s in the gym.” The woman pointed. “Down that hallway, two doors on your right. Just follow the noise. You can’t miss it.”

  Kelly moved in the direction indicated. Was this place a rehab facility or the YMCA? Maria and Adam had met in group therapy, but no one here looked like they were in recovery.

  She passed an open door and peered inside to find rows of chairs before what appeared to be a chapel. Responding to shouts further down the hallway, she pushed into the gym where a basketball game was in progress with players from six to ten years old, all boys.

  An ebony-haired woman in her twenties raced up and down the court with the contestants trying to officiate what appeared to be bedlam. Kelly watched a bit of the action. When two of the players fought over the ball and one of them went tumbling to the ground, the official raised a whistle hanging around her neck and blew shrilly, bringing the dispute to a halt.

  “That’s it,” she shouted, hands on her hips. “Game over. I warned you guys.” The boys wandered off amid much grumbling and pushing and light punches on each other’s shoulders.

  Kelly walked across the now deserted court where the official stuffed equipment into a duffel bag.

  “Sister Aleta?”

  The woman turned, pushed sweaty hair that had escaped a ponytail away from her face and smiled at Kelly. “Can I help you?”

  “Are you Sister Aleta?”

  “That’s what they call me.”

  “Are you a nun?” Her mom claimed to be Catholic, but Kelly could count on one hand the times they’d attended mass. Kelly didn’t know much about the church, but was surprised a nun would wear shorts.

  “No,” Aleta said. “But the kids all call me sister anyway.”

  “Nancy sent me,” Kelly said.

  “Ah,” Aleta said, her smile fading. “What are you on?”

  “Oxy.”

  Aleta nodded. “Do you want help?”

  Before Kelly could answer, cries of “Sister Aweta, Sister Aweta” bounced off the high gymnasium ceiling.

  A little boy close to the size of Jason Wentworth ran up to Sister Aleta and tugged on the hem of her khaki shorts. “Aweta,” he wailed in a childish voice, again reminding Kelly of the little dude.

  Kelly gazed down at the child and her heart squeezed. He had a bruise on his right cheek where someone had slapped him so hard she could make out the outline of a palm. Suddenly she longed to see Jason, missing him with a physical ache in her core. Was he okay? Did he miss her?

  She shook her head. Of course the little prince was okay, at least physically. He was safe, unlike this child. Trey would never strike his son.

  And the Wentworth men had already forgotten she existed.

  Aleta knelt so she was eye level with the child. “What’s wrong, Julio?”

  “It’s my mommy. She won’t stop crying. Can you talk to her again?”

  “Of course, sweetie.” Taking his hand, Aleta stood. “Will you wait for me?” she asked Kelly.

  Kelly shrugged, playing the druggie unsure if she wanted to get clean.

  “Go to your mom,” Aleta told Julio. “I’ll be right there.”

  Julio bit his bottom lip, but trudged out of the gymnasium, glaring at Kelly over his shoulder. Guilt made her release a sigh. The people here may not all be addicts, but they were definitely in bad situations.

  “What’s the deal with all the kids in this facility?” Kelly asked. “I was told it was a place to get clean.”

  “Sunshine Center provides a multitude of services.”

  “How can you have druggies hanging out in the same location with children at risk?” Kelly used her chin to motion the way Julio had exited.

  Aleta’s gaze sharpened on Kelly. “Who sent you?”

  “A friend told me she got help here,” Kelly said.

  “Who is your friend?”

  “Maria Navarre.”

  “Is that so? I’m surprised Maria recommended us.”

  “Why is that?”

  “We were unable to do much for her.”

  “She met a guy here,” Kelly said. “Adam Chandler. Have you seen him around?”

  “Do you know Chandler?” Aleta’s tone turned sharp, so likely she knew Adam was a fugitive. Or maybe the FBI had already questioned her.

  Kelly rubbed her cheek, as if she’d been slugged there. “He used to be my supplier. The thing is, he’s a bad dude. I owe him money and don’t want to see him, don’t want him to know where I am.”

  “I can promise you he won’t come here.”

  “Because?”

  “Because he knows we’d call the police on him.”

  Kelly nodded, as if she totally knew the score. Even if the counselors here didn’t know Adam was hunted by law enforcement, most likely they knew he’d abused Maria, and could do nothing to stop it.

  Kelly looked toward the door, as if nervous. “Are any of his friends still around?”

  Aleta issued a harsh laugh. “Adam doesn’t have any friends.”

  “That sounds right,” Kelly muttered.

  “Listen—what’s your name?”

  “Kelly.”

  “Kelly. I’m sorry, but I need to go. If you want help, I promise this is a safe place. Adam won’t be able to get to you here. Please wait for me to come back.”

  Kelly nodded, but didn’t commit to waiting. No point in it. She believed Aleta that Adam didn’t have any friends here, so no one would have information on where he was holed up.

  She watched Aleta hurry from the gymnasium, presumably to assist Julio and his weeping mother.

  Kelly returned to Trey’s SUV and drove away, her gaze on the rearview mirror making sure she wasn’t followed.

  Back in her apartment, Kelly again found herself with time on her hands. Her trip to Sunshine had been a bust, so she no longer had that bit of undercover police work to look forward to. Where else could she look for Adam?

  It hadn’t even been twenty-four hours and suspension totally sucked.

  She glared at the refrigerator, knew there was no help for it and shoved her hands into yellow latex gloves. Her garbage can was almost full when the phone rang.

  “Jenkins.”

  “Kelly, it’s Trey.”

  She closed her eyes, willed her heart
to slow down and managed to say, “Hi.”

  “Are you at home?”

  “Yes.”

  “Would it be convenient if I brought Jason over to see you?”

  Trey wanted to come here? “Sure. When?”

  “Now.”

  “Now?” She swallowed. Surely she’d heard him wrong. “Are you serious?”

  “Yes. I know I should have given you more warning, but we’re in the area, and he’s been begging me to arrange a visit.”

  “Since when are you in my area?”

  “Dr. Barth believes Jason needs to get off Collins Island more often.”

  “Trey, Adam is still out there somewhere.”

  “I have adequate security in place. Hold on. Someone wants to talk to you.”

  Oh, no. Kelly clutched her phone tighter.

  “Hi, Kelly,” Jason said in his sweet little voice.

  “Hi, Jase. How are you?”

  “I want to come see where you live. Daddy says it’s okay.”

  Kelly shook her head, doubting that was exactly how the discussion with his father had gone down, and examined her apartment with a critical eye. Not so bad. Then she looked down at herself and groaned. She likely stunk from rotten tomatoes. Did she even have time to take a shower?

  But she couldn’t say no. She wanted to see Jason. She wanted to see Trey.

  Did he want to see her?

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

  TREY PUNCHED THE intercom when Hans braked the limo to a stop in front of Kelly’s brick apartment building.

  “Wait here until we hear from Scott,” he told his driver.

  “Yes, sir.”

  Trey gazed at the building, noting the lack of media frenzy. Joe’s press release had worked.

  He’d tried to stay away, knew that he should for Jason. He’d convinced himself a clean break was best, and not only because of his son’s mental health.

  They needed to stay away from each other for her sake, too.

  Maybe she’d made him better, but thanks to the Wentworth name her existence had become a living hell. She was well rid of his disruptive presence in her life and career.

  But God forgive him, he couldn’t ignore Jason’s pleas. Or his own emptiness.

  He wanted to see her. One last time. Was there anything left unsaid between them? A lot, in his opinion, but maybe it was better to leave it that way.

  Ballard had informed him that the Bureau had ceased surveillance of Kelly’s home, but the Protection Alliance had thoroughly vetted the premises and surrounding area. Scott was clearing Kelly’s floor before he and Jason went up.

  Kelly thought it was risky to bring Jason here, but Adam Chandler didn’t want to harm his son. Why would he? He’d only wanted money. It was Kelly, the woman who could identify him, who remained in danger.

  Once again because of him.

  “Is this where Kelly lives, Daddy?”

  Trey nodded. “Inside that building on the third floor.”

  “Why don’t we go see her?”

  “Scott will call me when Kelly is ready.”

  “Okay.” Jason got up on his knees and peered out the window.

  Trey tried to make sense of his thoughts as he waited for the all-clear. They shouldn’t be here, and it wasn’t because of any danger. He’d brought a small army with him. No one would get to Kelly or Jason this afternoon.

  But what was this stunning sense of urgency he had to see her? She hadn’t sounded pleased to hear from him. So why was he here?

  Because he couldn’t stay away.

  His cell buzzed, making Jason turn from the window. Trey smiled at his son, and then read a text from Scott giving the go-ahead.

  “You ready to go see Kelly?” he asked Jason, reaching for his hand.

  Jason nodded and grasped his fingers.

  The limo door opened, and four armed PA operatives surrounded them as Trey lifted his son and hurried to the entrance. They rode up the elevator in silence, Jason’s foot softly kicking his thigh during the ride.

  Scott waited in the hall when the doors opened. He motioned with his head to the right. Trey glanced that direction and found Kelly standing in a doorway. Looking even more beautiful than he remembered.

  Her gaze locked onto his, and he moved toward her.

  “Kelly,” Jason shrieked.

  She shook her head, but a smile softened her lips.

  “I see you brought your own military force,” she said as he approached.

  Her skin was damp, and she smelled of citrus. Trey wanted to pull her into his arms and breathe in her fragrance.

  “Hi!” Jason reached out his arms.

  “The building is surrounded by my private security,” Trey told her as she took Jason from his arms and stepped into her apartment. “You and Jason will be safe.”

  She hugged Jason, closing her eyes. “Hey, Jase. I missed you, sweetie.”

  Jason wrapped his arms around her neck and said, “Me, too.”

  “I swear you’ve grown an inch,” she said.

  “No, I didn’t.”

  Kelly pulled back and poked a finger into Jason’s belly, making him squirm. “And I think you gained ten pounds since I saw you.”

  Jason giggled and clutched at Kelly’s finger.

  “Have you turned into a fish yet?” she asked.

  “I swim every day, Kelly,” Jason said, still holding on to her finger.

  Trey turned to Scott who waited in the hallway. “Stay by the door.”

  “Yes, sir,” Scott said.

  “Stay in touch with everyone in the field and keep me informed of anything suspicious.”

  “Of course, sir.”

  Trey shut the door, flipped the deadbolt and turned to face Kelly, noticing she wore faded jeans and a tank top, looking casual and nothing like a woman who policed the dangerous streets of Miami.

  She smiled at him and lowered Jason to the floor. His son immediately looked around as if assessing the room. Her home was small, a one-bedroom apartment. The rooms were neat, efficiently furnished, the furniture appearing new. He saw no homey touches, indications that the woman he’d come to admire lived here. But exactly what would those signs be? Framed guns hung on the wall? FBI wanted posters?

  A photograph of her late mother?

  He knew next to nothing about Kelly’s private life.

  “This is where you live?” Jason asked.

  “Yes, it is.”

  “You don’t have a pool?”

  “Actually, yes, I do. Down on the first floor. Everyone who lives here can use it, but it’s much smaller than yours.”

  “Oh,” Jase said, and scampered into the kitchen, obviously intent on a thorough exploration.

  She focused on Trey and said, “So small it’s hard to do laps.”

  “How are you?” he asked.

  She hesitated, but said, “I’m fine. How are you?”

  “Lonely. The house is empty without you.”

  He watched her chest rise as she sucked in a breath. He’d surprised her with that answer. Hell, he’d surprised himself.

  “How is Jason?” she asked.

  “He’s doing well.”

  Was this how it was going to go? Polite conversation? Would they discuss the weather next?

  She shook her head, as if having similar thoughts, and rubbed her palms on her jeans. Was she nervous to have him here? He’d never considered that idea.

  “Can I get you something to drink?” she asked. “I wasn’t really prepared for guests, but I can make some iced tea.”

  “I’m fine,” Trey said. “If you like, I can have Scott bring up some wine from the limo.”

  Jason reappeared. “Do you have any potato ch
ips, Kelly?”

  “Jason,” Trey said warningly. “What did we talk about?”

  His son stuck out his lower lip. “Kelly doesn’t mind.”

  “How do you know?”

  Jason gave Kelly his most winning smile and said, “Daddy says I have to be good or we can’t visit you anymore.”

  Kelly shot him a questioning look.

  “That’s not what I said, Jason.”

  His son merely shrugged.

  “I’m trying to set boundaries,” Trey told her. “Someone told me he might be spoiled.”

  She laughed, a full-on belly laugh, which somehow broke the tension in his gut. Had he ever heard her really laugh before?

  “I don’t have any chips,” she told Jason. “How about a cracker?”

  “That’s okay,” Jase said. “Where is your bed?”

  She colored, shot Trey another look, but pointed toward a doorway. “In my bedroom.”

  Jason hurried into the room, and Trey followed. Of course he wanted to see where she slept every night.

  Trey waited at the doorway while Jason leaped onto the yellow comforter and placed his head on her pillow, giggling again. This was all a big game to him.

  When Kelly moved to Trey’s side, he wanted to reach out and touch her.

  “He seems happy,” she said.

  Trey glanced at her, but she remained focused on Jase. He’d found a remote control device and punched buttons in an attempt to turn on the small television that sat on a dresser.

  “He’s getting better,” Trey said.

  “Does he like the new therapist?”

  “He seems to.”

  “So he doesn’t miss me.”

  Was that a touch of sadness in her tone? Longing even?

  “He misses you,” Trey said. “So do I.”

  She lifted her gaze to his. “Do you?”

  “More than you can imagine.”

  Her eyes widened as she stared at him. What was she thinking?

  “I’m surprised you came here.”

  “It’s safe. No one will breach my security. The Protection Alliance even cleared rooftops for snipers before we got out of the limo.”

  She shook her head. “That’s not what I meant.”

  “What did you mean?”

  The television blared to life, and Kelly broke their connection, glancing back to Jason.