Wherever It Leads

by Adriana Locke

  I’m stunned, my mouth hanging open. I look at Pres and she’s as shocked as me.

  “Can we kill him now?” she asks. I’d normally laugh, but I don’t think she’s kidding. And I don’t think I’d be adverse to the plan either.

  “He’ll get his,” Brady says. “I have to be debriefed again in the morning because the guys that had me were terrorists. But between them and Fenton, I have no doubt Grant will be handled. We just need to let it play its course.”

  I rub my hands down my face, trying to soak in all of this information. It’s all clear now, all of it making sense. But there’s still a hole in my heart and I can’t fill it . . . because he’s not here.

  “What will happen to Fenton?” I ask, looking at my brother. “We were at dinner tonight and they came in and took him . . .”

  “He expected it. I don’t think he knew when, and I don’t think he’d want them to do it in front of you,” Brady says. “But he warned me and told me they’d try to arrest him, but he’d already discussed it with his attorneys and nothing would stick. But Mandla, at a minimum, will be closed most likely.”

  “Oh my God,” I say, my lip trembling. “It’s his mother’s company. He’ll be devastated.”

  Brady grins. “He won’t be happy about it. But he’ll come out a winner. Trust me.”

  I haven’t done this in a long time, but it’s exactly what I need.

  The porch swing glides back, the chain squeaking a little as the wooden bench floats forward. Over and over again, the rhythm settling over my soul. The sky is a pretty blue, not a deep midnight color, but more of a light-up-from-behind kind of thing that makes it not seem quite three o’clock in the morning.

  Presley is asleep upstairs in my childhood bedroom. Mom and Dad went to bed a couple of hours ago, right after Brady turned in. I was surprised Mom didn’t sleep outside his door, just so she could make sure he was there every time she woke up. I can’t blame her. It still seems unbelievable.

  I tried to lie down, first in my bed and then on the couch, but I couldn’t find that sweet spot. Or maybe it’s that the sweet spot isn’t accessible to me right now because all I keep thinking of as I toss and turn is Fenton.

  I watch the clouds sweep past the moon, almost like a hand is guiding it across the sky. I think of my brother snoring in the room above and how quickly things can change—both good and bad. He was here one day, gone the next. We’re so, so incredibly lucky to have him home again, but who knows what tomorrow holds? Things can change in an instant, your loved ones sucked away, your happiness taken, never to return.

  My exhale breaks the stillness and I draw my legs up and wrap my arms around them. I notice the heart tattoo on my finger, my friendship token with Presley. I trace it with another finger and catch myself smiling. It makes me happy. Something so simple, so free—well, besides the twenty-four dollars it cost—means the world to me, makes my life better.

  I swing back and forth and think to the other things that make me happy. None of them, not one, surprisingly, is a tangible thing. The feeling of my family together makes me happy. Smelling my mother’s house when I walked in earlier tonight made me happy. And images of a certain smirk, the scent of Fenton’s musk also make me ridiculously happy.

  The sound of the door opening startles me. I look up to see Brady walking outside, his flannel pajama pants and red t-shirt looking rumpled.

  “I thought I’d find you out here,” he yawns, slipping into the swing beside me.

  “Why are you awake? I figured you’d sleep for days.”

  He shrugs and I realize I’ve touched a nerve and I instantly regret saying that. “Every time I close my eyes, I listen for footsteps. It’s hard to turn off that feeling of being alert all the time, you know? And I haven’t had a mattress or a pillow for months.”

  “I can’t imagine, Brady. I’m so sorry you had to go through that.”

  “I should’ve listened to you, I guess.” His shoulder bumps mine, making me laugh.

  “You should’ve. I know everything, you know.”

  “So, little sister, since you know everything, have you heard from Fenton?”

  My spirits sink, my shoulders slumping forward. “No. I got a text from Duke—do you know him?”

  Brady shakes his head.

  “He works for Fenton. He told me Fenton was being questioned and his attorneys were with him and he would get a hold of me when he can. But what if he doesn’t?”

  “He will.”

  I sigh and sink against the wooden planks of the swing. My heart is empty and my soul full of dread. I need to make things right with him, just like he did for me. “I should’ve believed him.”

  “No, you shouldn’t have,” Brady quips. “You should always question everything. He’ll understand.”

  “I just feel so rotten. So mean, Brady. So not like me.” I nod, squeezing my eyes shut to block out the memory. “I just wish I could see him. I just wish . . .”

  My voice trails off as his face comes into my mind. The sincerity in his big, beautiful grey eyes as he told me he loves me. The playful smirk as he gave up the location of my bikinis. The genuineness when he handed me his mother’s necklace and told me to remember where my loyalty lies.

  I clasp my fingers around the charm. My loyalty lies with my family, but it also lies with Fenton. He’s proven his love for me in a way I can barely wrap my head around. I’ll do whatever I need to do to show him it was worth it.

  “Do you love him, Brynne?” Brady asks, watching me carefully.

  “Yeah, Brady. I do. Whether I should or I shouldn’t, I can’t deny it. I don’t want to deny it.”

  He stares at me, a blank look on his face. “Why shouldn’t you? He just saved my life, Brynne.”

  “But he didn’t tell me who he was at first,” I sigh. “That gave me serious pause before. You know—could I trust him? Did he betray me? But I don’t think so now. Now having you back and hearing your side of things. But really that was the only way I’d ever know.”

  He blows out a breath and stands, a limp to his stride I haven’t noticed before. He walks the few steps to the railing and leans against it, facing me. “People make mistakes. You know that; you’ve made your fair share. I’ve made mine. I’m sure Fenton’s made his own too, and I know he’s not some Prince Charming.”

  “Oh, he’s charming,” I assure him, making him snort.

  “I don’t want to know. He’s my boss and you’re my little sister.”

  “Does that bother you?” I ask. “You know, there was a day, a particularly hard day, where I sat on the beach and told you about him. I told you how I felt about him and that I needed your advice on what to do. And now you’re here,” I say, still almost unable to believe it. “So you wanna give me some?”

  “He’s a good guy,” he says, moving his shoulder and wincing. “And one I think you’d be really stupid not to get to know a little bit more. Just see what happens. I feel like I know him pretty well after all this,” he laughs, “and his friendship and loyalty is like no other.”

  My hand goes to the elephant around my neck.

  “What’s that?” Brady asks, peering through the darkness.

  “It’s a necklace Fenton gave me. It’s an elephant.”

  Brady smiles knowingly. “An elephant means family and loyalty in Zimbabwe. That’s why he gave that to you. He was telling you without telling you he would be loyal to you.”

  I press it between my fingers and start to speak when I hear the faint jingle of my phone. “Oh my God! Where is it?”

  Brady laughs, stepping out of the way. “In the kitchen on the table. I saw it when I walked by.”

  I race inside and pick it up, my fingers flying over the keypad when I see Fenton’s name. “Fenton!” I breathe, my voice shaky. My heart is beating so hard I’m afraid I won’t be able to hear his voice. “Fenton! Are you there?”

  “Hey,” he husks, his tone full of exhaustion. “How are you, rudo?”

  “Where are yo
u? Are you okay?”

  “I’m fine. I’m home,” he says, and I know he’s grinning even though he’s demolished. The tenderness in his voice makes me weak, and I collapse into a chair as Brady walks back in the room, the little hole in my heart starting to fill up.

  “I’ve been worried,” I say. “I’ve been trying to find out where you are. Just . . . it’s so good to hear your voice.”

  “Did you see your brother?”

  “He’s right here,” I smile, my heart flickering in my chest as I watch my brother limp to a chair and slide in. “Fenton, I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am,” I say, my voice breaking. “I can’t thank you enough. You brought him back, even when I said those horrible things to you.”

  The line is quiet as I wait for him to respond. He doesn’t.

  “I’m so sorry,” I cry. “I should’ve believed you. I—”

  “It’s okay, rudo. I understand.”

  “No, you don’t. I just . . .” I push away from the table, my blood pulsing in my veins. “I need to see you. Can I see you? Now?”

  He chuckles, the weariness heavy. “It’s late. You don’t need to be out driving this time of night after the day you’ve had.”

  “After the day I’ve had, all I need is to be with you. If you’ll have me.” I hold my breath, waiting on his response. It occurs to me he might not want to see me and that slays me.

  “If I’ll have you? You know I always want you, Brynne.”

  I grin, releasing the breath I’m holding.

  “But you should wait till morning. It’s a long drive from your parents’ house and it’s late and—”

  “I have Presley. She’ll bring me. She’s a terrible sleeper anyway and such a romantic. She’ll love this.”

  He groans and I know he isn’t thrilled with my compromise, but I don’t care. I need to see him. Now.

  “I’m coming over, Fenton.”

  “Maybe I should—”

  “I’ll be there as soon as I can!” I interject before he can finish.

  I click off the phone and look at my brother. He’s watching me with an amused look on his face.

  “Is it okay if I go, Brady? Maybe it’s rude for me to leave you right now?” I bite my lip and plead with my gaze for him to give me the go-ahead.

  He laughs and stands, heading towards the living room. “It’d be easier, probably. You’re stressing me out.”

  “Shut up,” I laugh.

  He chuckles and gets comfortable in the recliner. “Go. Have fun. Make peace with Fenton, but don’t tell me how you plan on doing that,” he snorts. “I have a lot of stuff to do tomorrow, and honestly, I want to try to sleep and eat and just be as normal as possible. So don’t worry about me, all right?”

  I jet up the stairs to wake Presley, but remember something. I pause on the steps whip out my phone again and press redial.

  “Brynne?” he asks, his cashmere wrapping around me. “Everything okay?”

  “I forgot to tell you something.”

  “What’s that?”

  “I love you,” I whisper. “And I’m not pretending. Not one bit.”

  “Do you now?”

  “I so do.”

  “Then get over here and show me.”

  “On my way.”

  The engine purrs as Presley slides the Mercedes up Fenton’s driveway. The headlights bounce off the stucco front and I see the curtains by the front door rustle.

  “Thanks, Pres!” I shout, jumping out and slamming the door behind me. She honks as I round the front and starts to back down the driveway.

  Quicker than I’ve ever sprinted in my life, my heartbeat matching my steps, I fly around the garage and up the front steps. The door opens as soon as I reach the top and I fling myself, breathless, into the arms of the man of my dreams.

  He pulls me in tight, nestling his face in my hair. My face burrows into his white t-shirt. I feel at home. Like everything in my life has finally come together.

  We just stand in the entryway, locked together, absorbing the moment. There are so many things I want to say, but the moment is so pure, so perfect that I’m afraid to spoil it with words that I’m sure won’t come out right.

  “Fenton,” I whisper, pulling away just far enough to see his face. His eyes are creased, his forehead marred with the stress of dealing with everything these past few weeks. I run my hand down the side of his face and when he leans into it, I break a little bit inside. “I’m so sorry.”

  “Don’t be.” His tone is crisp, his words definite. He lowers his face so he can peer inside my soul. “You have nothing to be sorry for.”

  “No, I do. I should’ve believed you.”

  He chuckles, the sweet sound of amusement making me grin despite my guilt. “You should’ve. But,” he says, lifting his chin when I start to respond, silencing me, “I understand why you didn’t.”

  “It was all too much, you know?”

  His eyes, already heavy with stress and lack of sleep, crinkle even more as he grins. “It was. And now it’s over.”

  Tears spring to my eyes, blurring my vision. “I can’t thank you enough for going after Brady. You brought him back to us, Fenton.”

  “It was my responsibility to do that. I’d been trying to do it since the day he was taken. You have to believe that.”

  “Brady believes that.”

  “He’s a good man.”

  “So are you. And Fenton, I believe that too,” I whisper. “I want you to know I can never repay you, but I’ll prove to you how much I appreciate what you’ve done and how sorry I am for not believing you. I have so much to make up to you and I will. I promise.”

  He takes my hand and leads me into the living room. We sit on the sofa, the moon hanging low in the sky. The only light comes from it, swamping the room with a hazy glow. There’s no sound, just our breathing.

  “How’s he feeling?” Fenton asks, his eyes shining. “He was a little sore on the plane.”

  “He’s going to be fine,” I laugh. “He’ll get checked out again tomorrow, but he’s a doctor, you know.”

  “I saw something about that,” he winks.

  “I told him about you and I . . .”

  Fenton’s face darkens. “You did?”

  I nod.

  “What did you say?”

  “I just told him I’d met you and didn’t know who you were. And then I found out and was pretty shitty to you. But somehow, in the meantime, I kinda fell in love with you. I do love you, Fenton. I’m not saying I want to marry you tomorrow or anything,” I grin, making him laugh, “but I want to be here for you in the way you were for me. I want to make you laugh and smile and go with you on your trips and wear bikinis and make you mad so you’ll remind me who my man is.”

  “No bikinis without me. That’s a deal breaker,” he says, trying to look stern.

  “But I want to try this with you. For real this time. Starting over, me and you. Nothing lurking out there we haven’t said, no surprises. A real try.”

  He laughs and drags me onto his lap. His hands lock around my waist and I can’t help the silly smile on my face as I look into his eyes.

  “You make me believe in love,” he says, his voice soft. “I can see years of being together, taking trips, maybe even starting a family someday. I’ve never felt that way before. I’ve always felt like being with someone would be a compromise, that I would have to give up being me to be in that relationship. But with you, I want to do that. I want to make sure we figure this out so we are both happy. Together.”

  I press my lips against his, the softness reducing me to a heap of mush. Our mouths fit together like they were made for one another, the dips and curves of our lips melding into the others’ perfectly.

  “I don’t want you to have to give up being you for anything, especially me. I like you just the way you are.”

  “I like me better when I’m with you.”

  “Me too, Fent.”

  “And I like when you call me that.”
<
br />   Tossing my head back, I let out a laugh. For the first time in so long, happiness pours from my heart unbridled. When I look at him again, his face is cracked with a smile of his own. I kiss him once more for good measure and because I can. Because I’ve missed doing it.

  “Will you stay with me tonight?” he asks.

  “Yes. Presley left. So unless you’re going to take me home, I have no other choice.”

  “Good thing because it really wasn’t a question. I wasn’t letting you leave,” he winks.

  “I’m supposed to work tomorrow afternoon, but I’m going to call and see if they’ll give me the day off. I really want to spend the day with my family if I can. I know Brady has a bunch of things to do tomorrow,” I yawn, glancing at the clock. “Or today, I mean. But I’d like to hang out with him some if he’s able.”

  Fenton nods, his face sobering. “I have a few things tomorrow afternoon too.”

  “Oh, yeah? Work?”

  “Sort of.”

  The way he says it piques my interest. It’s in his tone, the way he clearly didn’t mean for it to be a lead-in for a follow-up, which is exactly why I want more information.

  “Such as?”

  “So nosey.”

  “Like you’re surprised.”

  He glances away from me, his jaw ticking. “Mandla is now defunct.”

  “What? What’s that mean?”

  “It doesn’t matter.”

  “Oh, it does matter!” I say, taking his chin and pulling his gaze towards me. “What’s going on, Fenton?”

  “I didn’t have authority to go in after Brady. There are laws about those types of things and I broke quite a few of them.”

  “Fent . . .”

  “Yeah. So in my little meeting tonight with the FBI, I was told to start shutting it down.”

  “Oh, no,” I say, pulling him in close for a change. “I am so sorry, babe.”

  “Don’t be.” He pulls back, the tilt of his lips catching my attention. “I mean, I hate it. It was my mother’s thing. But you know, I ran that company out of obligation, really. Because it was the right thing to do. Don’t get me wrong—I wanted to do the things I was doing. But it had become more of a routine thing than an intentional thing. I need to do things with the right spirit, like my mother preached, with a servant’s heart. And I wasn’t doing that, anyway. Not really.”