I glanced over my shoulder to check if she were still asleep. All I could see was her blond bun against the glass. I’d locked the doors, and the neighborhood was good. She’d be safe.
Here. Without me.
I rang the doorbell.
From inside, I heard the long-winded ring of the bell. It echoed throughout the house. Tapping my boot impatiently, I hoped no one answered. But it was a no go. The door opened and on the other side stood a man with eerily familiar eyes. They were empty too, sheathed by gray eyebrows. His hair was gray and gold, combed without a hair out of place. My heart hammered. My throat dried.
He smiled at me, but it didn’t touch his eyes. It was a front. “May I help you?”
I held out my hand. “My name is Klayton Caldwell.”
His eyes hardened. “Are you a damn reporter?” He grabbed the collar of my shirt and slammed me into the brick wall beside his door. “You’d better not be another damn reporter.”
“I’m not,” I grunted. I could break his jaw in one punch. He wasn’t a threat to me. “I promise.”
His gaze narrowed. “Then who are you?”
“Let me go.”
He weighed his options, finally deciding to let me go when he realized I was twice his size in both height and weight. He situated his shirt, even though mine was the one that he’d wrinkled. “What do you want?” Something in his eyes drained. “Is it George? Is my boy okay?”
“I don’t know who that is.”
He sagged in relief, seeming to lose the life in his body instantly. He ran a hand down his face and breathed through his fingers. “You selling something?”
“Can we go inside? I need to talk to you. It’s about Madison.”
Everything in his entire body seemed to lock in place. He looked into my eyes like I held his life in my hands. “What do you know about my baby?” He stepped as close as he could to me. “What do you know about my daughter?”
“Can we please go inside and talk? Please,” I begged, something I never did to anyone.
He must’ve seen my turmoil, because he nodded slowly, watching me in a new light. Suspicion, hope, fear, rage—they churned in his eyes.
“Where is she?”
We had to talk first. But he needed something, after all these months he needed something. “She’s safe. She’s okay, I promise. That’s why I want to talk to you.”
In seconds, his eyes were gleaming. “She’s safe?” he whispered.
I tried to bite my tears back by clearing my throat. “She’s safe.”
“Oh, thank God.” He stumbled back into the wall, clutching his chest as he began to sob. He put his face in his hands and lost it. “Where is she?” he demanded.
“Let’s go inside and talk.”
Now that he knew I wasn’t the bad guy, he motioned for me to enter, sniffling behind me. The foyer of their home was wood and filled with floral paintings. Shoes on a rack lined the floor. I looked down at my boots and then at him, but he shook his head and grabbed my arm, screaming “Joanna!” at the top of his lungs. “Joanna, get down here now!” The emotion in his voice left me feeling gutted. They’d take her immediately. What was I thinking? Bringing her to the place where I’d lose her.
“What is it, Austin?” came a lax, feminine voice.
Austin shoved me into a living room and pointed at the couch. “Come down here now, honey.”
I sat on an unblemished white sofa. There was a baseball game on. The Rockies were playing the Dodgers, but the volume was on low, and there was a beer on the table half finished, along with four empty ones. I knew the feeling. Turn the TV on, drown out the emotions, fill it with beer—all gone. The rest of the living room looked upscale and homey, nothing like the house where I’d grown up. It had barely been a house, but it had four walls and indoor plumbing. Anything more was a joke. I’d never get it.
Austin stood staring at me, hands on his hips, hope in his eyes. A woman in her early forties came in, dressed in beige chinos and a gray tunic. She had dark eyes and honey brown hair; I saw why Madi’s hair was confused. So were her parent’s hair. She’d gotten most of her father’s traits.
When she saw me, she started. Then she looked at her husband. “What’s going on?”
He grabbed her shoulders. “He knows where Madison is.”
“You mean …” Her bottom lip trembled.
“She’s safe, honey.”
Her mother’s mouth opened in a soundless sob.
“They won’t want me anymore.” Why had Madison thought that? What about these people gave her the impression that they wouldn’t want their missing daughter home? I’d had her for such a short time, and even I wanted to keep her.
“Where is she?” her mother demanded. “Is she here?”
I didn’t answer that yet. They’d take her. She was still mine. “Can we talk first?”
“Where is she?”
“Let the boy talk,” Austin said, patting her hand.
“Should we call the police?”
“No,” I said sharply. “Not yet. Mad won’t want that.”
“Mad?” they said together, eyebrows screwed down. They were getting it now. Something was off. They both sat down. Her father on the coffee table and her mother beside me. “Talk,” Austin whispered.
“Okay.” I took a deep breath. “Probably a month ago, maybe more, my friend came into my shop with a woman. That woman was Madison. She’s been with me ever since. But she’s not the same daughter you lost.” I pointed at her father, at her mother, they had to understand that.
“What happened?” Austin asked, tears streaming silently down his face.
I met his eyes fearfully. “You don’t want to know—”
“Tell me,” he said forcefully.
“She was abducted. I don’t know where he took her, and we can’t figure out what he did to her, and she won’t talk about it. But I do know that she managed to escape. My friend, Cat, found her and took care of her. Then she brought her to my place. I tried to do the same. Mad won’t talk, she doesn’t want to be touched, and she won’t eat. She’s—” I looked down as my own tears streamed down my face. “She’s broken.” I looked back up. “You have to know that. She’s not your daughter anymore. She doesn’t even think you want her home.”
Her mother sobbed uncontrollably.
“She begged me, begged me, not to bring her here. But she’s not getting better. She can’t hide out in my place rotting away. She has to heal. She needs her family, not me.”
Austin hid his face in his hands.
“There’s some things you have to know about her. She’s fragile. She refuses to be around men. She won’t let them touch her, talk to her, get anywhere near her. So you can’t have cops in and out of here because she’ll crack. She can hardly keep anything down. She can barely sleep. She needs support, but she needs it her way. Not the way you think. And there’s a huge chance that once she wakes up, she’ll take off.”
“Where is she?” her mother asked. She hadn’t heard me at all.
Austin either.
All they wanted was their daughter. I understood that. But they had to listen to me. “She’s not going to come in here smiling and happy. She went through horrible things for a long time.”
That was the wrong thing to say.
“But we can get her better. We can be there for her, remind her who she used to be, and love whatever version she chooses to be now. That’s why I brought her home. I can’t do that for her.”
“Where is she?” Joanna grabbed my hand in hers, curling her fingers around mine.
Please forgive me, Mad. “She’s sleeping in the car. I gave her something.” Austin glared at me. “Trust me, Mr. Hart. If I didn’t give her some anxiety meds, she wouldn’t be outside right now. They’re harmless. She’ll wake up soon, but I’d prefer to get her inside before she does. If you know what I mean.” I gave him a quirk of my brow. “Once she’s in, she’s in.”
“Let’s go get her,” he said, letting it g
o. “Stay here,” he told Joanna. “I don’t need you fainting on the driveway again.”
She nodded, staying put. I tried to free my hand. Eventually, she let me go. I followed Austin out of the house and down the driveway, across the street, and to my truck. He stood on the passenger’s side, staring at his daughter for so long I looked around the street for onlookers. I folded my hands behind my back and waited, ignoring his tears and the guilty look on his face.
“She’s so beautiful.” He touched his hand to the glass. “Isn’t she, son?”
I cleared my throat. “Gorgeous, sir.”
“Thank you for keeping her safe.” He turned to me. “Thank you for bringing her back to me.” Then he pulled me into a bear hug.
It might’ve been the first hug I’d ever been given by a man. I wasn’t sure I wanted another one. He sobbed into my shirt, gripping it with his fists. I held him as best I could, staring at Mad’s sleeping face as her father sobbed against me.
“Let’s wake her up,” I said. “I’ll do it.”
He let me go and wiped his face off on his shirt, showing me his dad body before I turned away. I needed to hit up the gym asap. Cringing, I unlocked the door to my truck and then opened it slowly. She moaned in the front seat, curling up with her hand tucked under her chin. I stooped to my heels. “Mad? Wake up, baby.” She moaned again, mumbling, “no, daddy,” under her breath. I had never been more embarrassed in my entire damn life.
“No what?” her father asked behind me.
“I don’t know.” I gently touched my hand to her face. I was giving her back bruise free. Physically, despite her weight loss, she did look better. I caressed my thumb over her cheek. “Wake up for me, Madi.”
She reached up tiredly to grasp my wrist. “Klay?”
“Wake up, baby.”
“I’m … so … tired …” she whispered, sounding drunk.
I looked at her father guiltily as he glared at me. “It was either this or nothing. I’ll carry her inside.” I unbuckled her seatbelt and slipped my hands under her thighs, cradling her in my arms. She was as light as always, fragile, yet strong enough that she still found it in her to get up every morning, to look me in the eye after she’d broken down. So damn strong she’d found a way to trust me when I knew that my sex made it impossible for her. I held her close, pressing kisses to her face despite the fact her father was watching me, watching her—he was witnessing my heartbreak.
I pressed one last kiss to her sleeping lips and then stepped into the house.
Her mother was waiting for us. She shook so badly, Austin held her arm to keep her steady.
She buried her face against Madi as I held her. I kept my eyes closed against the cries her parents exuded. I could feel her waking. Feel her shaking. Feel her finally understanding.
“Mom?” she whispered tiredly. “Mom?” she said again. “Mom!” she screamed. Not in love. In horror. She fought in my arms until I let her down on her feet. “Don’t touch me!” she shouted when her Dad reached for her. She hid behind me. “You brought me home?” She sounded so betrayed, so enraged. “Klayton, why?”
I tried to free myself from her, but as angry as she was, she wouldn’t let me go. Her parents couldn’t even look at me. I warned them. “Mad,” I whispered, turning around to hold her arms. Her eyes were red, broken. How could you, was written all over her face. “This is where you belong.”
“No!” She wrapped her arms around me, affixing herself to me. “I belong with you.”
“They’re your parents. They miss you. Talk to them.”
She cried uncontrollably in my arms. When she could no longer stand, I collapsed on the tiled floor in the foyer with her, holding her on my lap as she shook and hid. She buried her face in my arm away from them. The shaking was so bad I knew what was coming before it came. Puke sprayed all over me and onto the tiles. I didn’t react. I was used to it. I simply held her, rocking her back and forth as her parents watched in horror.
“What do we do?” Joanna asked helplessly.
They needed to go. As hard as that would be, she’d never calm down with them watching her lose it. “Go make her a grilled cheese.”
That brought them up short. Her father got the hint. “Let’s go. She’s safe. She’s home. Let’s go make her a grilled cheese.”
“But,” her mother started, reaching for her daughter.
I shook my head at her. And finally, her mother understood. She got what I’d been trying to say. Madison wasn’t here right now. In her place was an abducted, abused woman. Joanna put her hand over her mouth and slid to her knees, her eyes agape with the pain she’d endured, and the pain her daughter had also. Austin managed to get her up and wrestle her out of the room. In my arms, Mad trembled like she was cold. But her skin was burning up. She was in shock.
“Where’s your bedroom?”
She shook her head. “Take me home.”
“You are home.”
“No, Klayton.” Her shaking hand gripped my arm. “Take me to your home. Our home. That’s our home. I’m sorry I was a burden. I won’t be a burden anymore. I’ll make it my home too.”
The burning in my throat ached. “You’re not a burden, Mad. You’re a gift.”
“Take me home. Take me home. Take me home. Take me home …”
I couldn’t take it anymore. “Where’s your bathroom? I know damn well you have your own bathroom.”
She was no help. Repeating her mantra.
I struggled to my feet with her in my arms. There was a set of stairs in the alcove beside the foyer. I took it, climbing to the second story. I peeked in one room, finding that it was her parent’s. Another search turned up a room that looked outdated and smelled like menthol. I found a boy’s room, fit with Toy Story items everywhere, and then finally, what could only be Madison’s room. White and teal everywhere. The room was spotless. Twin bed, sheer curtains, teal sheets, a vanity mirror—anything a perfect Hart would need to flourish. I closed her door behind me and locked it.
“They have a key,” she whispered, lifting her head. She looked at her room the way I had her entire house. She was overwhelmed.
“You have a bathroom in here?”
She rested her head on my chest in response. I gave up and searched myself. I found her closet first, and then her en suite bathroom.
“Can you stand on your own?” I set her down and then began filling her tub with hot water and the half-empty bottle of candy cane bath gel I found on the edge of the tub. The room immediately smelled like Christmas.
I undressed her. When she was naked, I lifted her into her tub. She sat in the middle of the water. I tossed her puked-covered clothes in the sink and then rolled my sleeves up, ignoring the puke on my arm and jeans. I sat on the edge of the tub, inhaling the scent of peppermint.
“Why candy canes?”
“Leigh bought it for Christmas. It came with lotion and perfume too.” She was hyperventilating.
Leigh.
I’d forgotten about him.
“It smells like shit. What are you, twelve?” I grunted at the memory of his douche ass perfect face.
She shocked me by laughing sadly for one second. “In this house, I am, Klayton.”
Her parents were stuck in the past, but I thought Madison was as well.
“In this house, I am a cookie cutout of what my parents want. I couldn’t even go more than forty minutes out of town to college. Thanks, Klayton.” The hurt in her eyes looked a lot like anger. “Aren’t you going to get in?” She looked at her sickness all over me.
“I don’t think that’s a good idea right now.”
“Why?” she hissed. “Because my parents are downstairs? Get in this tub right now, Klayton.”
What was her problem with her parents? There was something there. But the hurt and anger in her eyes made it hard not to comfort her. I locked her bathroom door and then disrobed. She looked right at my penis for some reason, and then up at me, cheeks aflame. It made me grin. “Huge, right?”
/>
She looked down at the water. I sighed, dropping my grin as fast as it appeared. Then I sank into the water that smelled like her ex and held her naked body in my arms. I washed her with the candy cane soap until the water was dirty, then I drained and refilled the tub, and this time left the water clear and soap free.
“I want to leave.”
“Tell me why.”
“You know why.” She gripped my arm that wrapped around her tits. “I don’t want to be here.” She kicked at the water. “In this perfect house. I want to be with you. Where it doesn’t matter who I am. I want to be Mad.”
“It doesn’t matter who you are here or there. If you want to wear my sweats or high heels. Don’t let how your parents want their lives get in the way of how you want yours. They love you. Maybe they’re not the same anymore either.”
That seemed to bring her up short. She paused where she’d been tracing my tattoos.
I continued. “Maybe they only want you, any version that they can get. They want their daughter. Their Madi.”
“She’s gone.”
That took the air from my lungs. “No, she’s not.” I grabbed her chin and forced her defiant eyes on mine. “No, she isn’t. She’s still a part of you. She’s the same you who’s a wise ass. The same you who giggles, even if it’s rare. The same you who trusted me with her body.” Her tears spilled over. “She’s in there. She’s just broken. And it wouldn’t hurt if you were different. If parts of you were stronger, more aware. Not every part of who you were and who you are is wrong. You have to take what you want and be whatever parts make you happy, well, healed.”
She breathed heavily in my arms. Then she confused me, getting out of the water soaking wet and naked to grab at the mouthwash on the counter. She poured a capful into her mouth and then spit before she returned to me, eyes red and determined.
Her naked body fit perfectly inside of my hold. She held my face and brought my lips down on hers. Her lips were hot and tongue hotter. When our piercings met, I groaned low in my throat, letting myself go in her mouth. I kissed her as hard as I could, not holding anything back. I tasted her tongue, her trust—any parts of her I could get in that moment.
Mad Love (Guns & Ink Book 1) Page 19
