“No idea. Chloe spent the majority of time at the fartsy gala in the bathroom, and Lacey was with her. My guess would be they’re still in the bathroom.”
“What’s wrong? Chloe okay?” Kade pinned me with a glare. “Did you upset her again? You know her old man will have your balls on a skewer.”
“For three years you’ve been worried about her father killing me. I can handle Pitt. Besides, you know Chloe and I aren’t an item anymore. And her old man was pleased, if you ask me.” I couldn’t say for sure, but Kade’s best friend, Hunt, who worked for Pitt, mentioned Pitt had been in a good mood since Chloe and I had broken up.
“You’re not using her for sex, are you?”
“Those days are done, bro.” I wasn’t about to stay with a girl who wanted more than I could give. I saw my future with me and only me, although I couldn’t help but think of the girl who’d left me standing on the scorching tar street seven years ago. I dropped my feet to the floor. “Kade, have you ever thought about the Reardons? I mean, whatever happened to Lizzie and her family?”
He pinched his eyebrows together. “Where did that come from?”
I rubbed my chin. “For some reason, I’ve been thinking about Lizzie.” Her scent. Her dark hair. Her blue-gray eyes. Her long neck. Her plump lips—the ones I kissed and would give anything to kiss again. I’d bet at the age of twenty she was more beautiful than I remembered.
“Are you thinking of Karen? The anniversary of her death is coming up. It’ll be seven years since she died. And you always go weird on us around that time.”
I leaned on my knees. “So? I miss her.” Every one of us in the family missed Karen. She had been Daddy’s little girl, Mom’s princess, and to us boys she had been the most precious girl in the world. She had been happy, beautiful, and intelligent—sometimes too smart for her own good.
“Kel, we all miss Karen. But you hide for days around the anniversary of her death. I get that you have to work out your own shit. I get you loved her. We all handle emotions differently. Yet after seven years I’d have expected you to have come to terms with her death.”
Easy for you to say. You aren’t the one who can’t remember if you left the gun cabinet unlocked. You aren’t the one who was distracted by a beautiful girl who had walked into the garage that day as I was putting away ammo. My old man had told us that Karen found the combination to the gun safe. I wasn’t sure I believed him. He always had a way of trying to protect us, even our feelings. Somewhere in the back of my mind I suspected he wanted to shoulder the blame so my mom wouldn’t think that any of her sons were responsible for Karen’s death. I couldn’t bring myself to broach the subject with any of my siblings or my father, and I wasn’t about to now. If my mom found out I might’ve been the one to leave the gun cabinet unlocked, she could relapse and have to return to the mental health facility where she’d lived for years after Karen’s death. I couldn’t handle that. I couldn’t handle the screams that came from her room at night. I couldn’t handle her depressed and crying all the time. Most of all, I would die knowing that I was the one to send her back to the mental health facility. I would take my secret to the grave. Hell, I’d lived with it all these years. I could live with it many more if that meant my family was happy.
“No one gets over death. It’s just not that easy.” I pulled on my hair. “I often think about Gracie Reardon, too. How she must’ve been devastated. How could anyone handle killing their best friend, and at the age of twelve no less?”
“Kel, you need to talk to someone. Why don’t you go see Dr. Davis? He helped Kody when Mandy died. And he’s helped Lacey with her PTSD.” Kade’s voice held concern.
“I’m not going to a psychiatrist.” I narrowed my eyes. “I’ll deal.”
“Then talk to Dad. He counsels military veterans every day. Plus he understands what we went through.”
I snarled. “I said I’ll deal.” I was afraid that the minute I opened myself up, the guilt that had taken up a large space inside me would be real. Which would mean I was responsible for my sister’s death.
He raised his hands. “Okay. I’ll back off. So, have you heard from Davenport? Do you have an interview set up yet?”
I blew out a breath. “No. I called yesterday, and the receptionist said Mr. Davenport would be in touch. He was at the shindig with his daughter. I spoke to her briefly. But when I went to talk to him, he was gone.”
“You haven’t slept with her?”
I arched a brow. “Fuck no.” I pushed to my feet. “I may crave sex, but I wouldn’t stoop low enough to sleep with someone to get a job. I have morals, you know.”
He circled the desk. “Bro, I’m sorry.” He squeezed my shoulder.
The door opened. The thump, thump of the bass blasted in.
Lacey breezed in with her brown hair flowing behind her and her breasts poking out of her low-cut green dress. “It’s crazy out there.”
Sliding his gaze over the love of his life, Kade groaned.
“I’m out of here.” I stalked to the door. Lacey was only home for the weekend, and when she was, she and Kade sucked face the entire time. I didn’t blame him, but I didn’t want to witness their escapades.
“Wait, Kel,” Lacey said as she tried to wrap her small hand around my bicep. “Why didn’t you wait for Chloe after the art gala?” She peered up at me with those green eyes of hers, reminding me of Emma.
“We’re not together anymore, remember?” Then I got the hell out of there before she could give me the third degree about love and shit. Besides, I had another girl—with red hair and a light scent of jasmine—who drew my interest.
Chapter 5
Lizzie
I jumped on the subway, or as Bostonians called it, “the T.” A middle-aged lady sat across from me, holding onto her purse for dear life. Several other people from all walks of life occupied the other seats, reading, chatting, or sleeping.
My phone vibrated as the train sped down the tracks. I checked the screen. A text from Peyton. How come you ran out after you thanked my mom? I wanted to invite you to a frat party at BU. Call me. We can change wig styles and give the frat boys a run for their money.
I chewed my lip. Her invitation sounded like fun. But I didn’t know how long I’d be with Dillon.
Sorry. I’m tired. Let’s do something soon. In part, I lied again. I ran out because I was afraid she’d want to tag along, and bringing her with me would only get complicated. Plus, for the brief time I’d met Dillon, he didn’t seem like the type of guy who would welcome Peyton. Not when he was selling me a gun.
Let’s meet for lunch at BU next week.
Deal, I replied. Peyton and I had had loads of fun when we were at the University of Miami. The train braked, announcing my stop. I filed out of the train car with a handful of people. Climbing up the stairs, I pocketed my phone. Once outside, the cold wind hit me. I shivered as I got my bearings. I’d checked out the map before I boarded the train. I had to walk four blocks. Sweeping my long, dark hair around me, I tucked it inside my coat then began my trek to Rumors. I found my hair was a great neck warmer.
Speaking of hair, I was giving Dillon what he’d asked for—the real me. When I’d gotten back to my hotel room, I’d stared at myself in the mirror, debating for several minutes whether to show Dillon the real me or stay in disguise. If I showed up at the club as Emma with my red wig and green contacts, he might make a scene or cancel our business arrangement. I didn’t want to bring any attention to myself. Plus, I couldn’t afford to have him back out. I had no doubt that I could find another gun dealer in a vast city like Boston, but I wouldn’t even know where to begin. I also didn’t want to answer any questions that another stranger might have. Or do business with someone I didn’t know. Not that I knew Dillon all that well. But he came highly recommended from his cousin, who I’d partied with in Miami. Besides, I
was one person among a population of over six hundred thousand in this city. I had nothing to worry about, not with Terrance Malden out of town. I could be me for one night.
My eyes watered as I passed others heading in the same direction, crossed over streets, and turned a corner onto Massachusetts Avenue. The lighted sign for Rumors jutted out from the building. I sniffled as I entered a dim hallway. A burly bouncer sat on a stool at the entrance to the club, checking IDs. According to the club’s website, a person had to be eighteen or older to enter.
I unzipped my jacket, flipped my hair over my shoulder, dug into my jeans pocket, and removed my ID and money. I had two IDs. My driver’s license for Miami had all my real information. I’d also had a fake one made with a picture of me in the red wig and green contacts just in case. Tonight though, I carried my real ID. I handed it to the bouncer.
He pointed a small flashlight at my license. “Ten dollars.”
After I paid and he slapped a band around my wrist, I went in. The beat of the music grew louder. One of the things I despised about nightclubs was the noise level when I wanted to carry on a conversation. I was more than curious how Dillon and I would chat or do business in a nightclub. Although, when I thought about it, a dark, loud, and crowded room was the best place for us to do the exchange. The majority of people at the club were there to party and dance. They wouldn’t be paying attention to Dillon and me.
I held out my wrist to another bouncer who had a double chin, standing guard at the arched doorway. Strobe lights of red, green, and yellow whipped around the packed club. He sized me up, his gaze lingering on my cleavage. I’d worn a simple white V-neck T-shirt over a pair of skinny jeans with army boots laced up over them. I didn’t mind when guys swept their gazes over me. But when they lingered too long on one spot, mainly my boobs, I wanted to tell them to screw off. Instead I scowled.
“You can check your coat right over there.” He stabbed a finger behind me.
“No thanks. I’m a bit chilled.” My body was still cold from the trek there.
I entered the club, merging into the crowd of gyrating people. The beat of the music pounded in my ears while people bumped into me. As I skirted around couples feeling each other up, I scanned the room for Dillon. He’d texted me earlier to let me know he would be in one of the booths. So I slipped through an opening to the perimeter where booths lined the back wall. I passed each one, quickly checking faces. Fortunately, each table sported a lit candle, making it somewhat easy to discern features.
As I approached the last booth nestled in the far corner, Kelton’s voice floated by, extremely close. My heart stopped. I froze with my eyes fixated on a bald guy in the corner booth. His lips moved as he talked to someone I couldn’t see sitting across from him.
Shoot! Would Kelton recognize me after all these years? I wanted to think that he wouldn’t. However, knowing Kelton, he didn’t forget anything. I swore if he examined me up close he would see the gold speck in my left eye. It’s a dark room. He won’t see it. Besides, he’s probably here with his girlfriend, so he won’t give me a second glance. I couldn’t take that chance. Dillon had already questioned if I knew Kelton. If I gave Dillon any hint of knowing the sexy Maxwell, the deal would be off.
Kelton’s voice was practically on top of me. “I’m looking for Dillon Hart. Is anyone in this booth Dillon?” he asked.
I quickly peeked over my shoulder. Kelton had exchanged the tuxedo for a tight-fitting Hinder Band T-shirt showcasing his bulging biceps and frayed jeans that hung low on his hips.
“Thanks,” he said. When he moved to the next table, his eyes met mine.
Shit! Shit! I stood like a zombie in between the table Kelton was about to approach and the corner booth. He held my gaze for the briefest of seconds, cocking his head to one side until a girl skirted between us. I started to duck into the melee of dancing fools when a strong hand settled on my shoulder.
“I’ve been waiting for you,” a male voice said, his breath tickling my neck.
I tensed, ready to kick and punch, only to turn and find Dillon, smirking. His skull nose ring glinted from a strobe light.
Before I could say a word, his hands were in my hair and his mouth was on mine, hot and urgent. I mashed my lips together, about to push him away, as Kelton continued his search for Dillon. “Are any of you Dillon Hart?”
I sucked in a sharp breath. Dillon took that as his cue to push his tongue into my mouth. He pulled me closer to his hard body as he continued to kiss me. If it weren’t for his strength—and my reluctance to make a scene—I would’ve kneed him in the balls. Fortunately, he was keeping Kelton from noticing me.
He explored my mouth as he held my face in his hands. Suddenly, Kelton’s voice dulled as I got lost in Dillon’s sensual web. I began kissing him back, tasting spearmint as my tongue touched his.
He groaned, abandoning my mouth for my ear. “You’re much more beautiful with dark hair.” His voice was husky. “I know you want to crush my balls, but I didn’t plan this. I saw you panic. You said that dude was a creeper.”
“So you’re saving me?” Each word came out on a breath. “Kelton is looking for you. Not me. And news flash. I can handle myself.”
He chuckled. “I don’t doubt that.”
I was about to ask him how he even recognized me without the red wig when Kelton asked, “Dillon Hart?”
I held my breath, keeping my eyes on Dillon.
Dillon turned his head. Kelton stood with his back to the dancers. “What, man? Can’t you see I’m a little busy with my girl?” he asked like a snapping turtle—if turtles could talk.
“You’re Dillon Hart? I saw you outside BU with the redhead. Fuck, man. Two girls in one day?” He sounded jealous.
“I said I was busy.” Dillon’s jaw was moving rapidly.
“Chill. I came up to shake your hand. If you want to be a fucking rude asshole then I’ll have you removed from the club.”
Dillon’s hands tightened on my arms.
My pulse went from a lazy cadence to a full-out sprint. So much for not making a scene. Out of my peripheral vision, I glimpsed Kelton flaring his nostrils. Suddenly, I became worried for another reason. If Dillon had a gun on him, things could go haywire quickly.
“Be nice, baby,” I said as I pressed my body into Dillon’s. “The man only wants to meet you, not shoot you.”
“Who’s your girl?” Kelton asked as he touched my shoulder. “Your voice sounds familiar.”
I could change the color of my hair and eyes, but not my voice, and Kelton and red-haired Emma had already met. Since I wasn’t in disguise, I wasn’t prepared for him to know I was his childhood sweetheart.
Dillon growled. “Get your fucking hand off my girl.”
I kept my side profile exposed to Kelton. As long as he didn’t look straight into my eyes, I should be fine. I also was banking on the dim light to keep me shielded. The bald guy in the corner booth had a sharp focus on us, probably waiting for all hell to break loose. I didn’t know for sure, but I’d bet he was here with Dillon.
Kelton removed his hand from me as he growled.
All of sudden, I had to pee and maybe puke. “I have to go to the ladies’ room,” I said to Dillon.
“Don’t take too long.” He flicked his head to the bald guy in the corner booth.
The bald guy got up.
I peeled myself away from Dillon’s hard body then got lost in the crowd. As I weaved through the dancers, I decided to get the hell out of that place after my pit stop. You’re paranoid. He’s not going to recognize you. I silently screamed back at my subconscious, Hell if he doesn’t!
My appearance hadn’t changed that much since the age of thirteen, except that I was older. I had bigger boobs, and I’d lost most of my southern accent. But my voice hadn’t changed from when we’d spoken at the art
gallery. If Kelton put two and two together, he would figure out I was the redhead from art class, and then he would have questions. Ones I wasn’t prepared to answer, especially since he could derail my deal with Dillon to get the gun.
I found the bathroom down a darkened hallway at the back of the club. I also found a long line. I settled behind a girl with long brown hair who was talking on the phone.
“Chloe, Kelton is here. And Kody is performing tonight. I need you to keep me company. Kade is busy sifting through résumés for a waitress. I don’t know where Kross is. Don’t worry about Kelton’s brothers.”
Great! I was standing behind the baseball star Peyton mentioned at the art gala. She was dating Kade. I cursed under my breath. The entire Maxwell family was here? Out of all the clubs in Boston, Dillon had to pick the one with the Maxwells in it. I spied an exit sign up ahead. I checked the hallway up and down. From the doorway to the club, the bald guy who’d exchanged a silent gesture with Dillon eyed me with his arms crossed over his massive chest. He shook his head.
I scrunched up my face at him. If he was going to chase me, then let the games begin. I wasn’t staying in this club another minute, even though I had to pee. I’d find a bathroom somewhere else. Sure, Dillon would have questions about why I left. Or he would back out of our deal. Either way, I had a question for him. How did he know the real me? His cousin, the one I partied with in Miami, didn’t know the real me. I’d been dressed in my red wig at the frat party where I’d met him.
More ladies filed behind me.
I slid out of line and went up to the bald guy. “Why are you watching me?”
“Dillon wants me to,” he said as he narrowed his brown eyes.
“Tell Dillon I’ll call him tomorrow.”
For some reason the stars were aligned for me to run into Kelton not once, but three times in one day. I smiled. My mom had told me the day we drove away from Kelton seven years ago that if we were meant for each other, the universe would bring us together. I lost my smile, and her words of wisdom. My gut told me I wouldn’t be so lucky to flee him a fourth time if I didn’t get out while I had the chance.
The Maxwell Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3 Page 67
