by Unknown
“So fucking much,” I replied.
He gave me a lazy smile and dragged the pad of his thumb across my lips. “Did you miss me?”
I pressed my cheek against his chest and squeezed him with my arms. Of course I missed him. I always missed him. But that wasn’t why I was there. Why did I feel so bad for doing this?
“Yes,” I whispered. “Always.”
“Then you’ll be glad to know I’m working on a solution to that problem,” he said.
“You are?”
“Yes. I’m redefining job responsibilities and management roles around here so I can spend some time away from the office.”
I stared up at him in surprise. “You mean you’re actually going to give up some control?”
He laughed and kissed my temple. “A little,” he admitted. “But it’s worth it if I get to spend more time with you and the baby.”
“I’m all for that plan.” I wiggled my brows.
“I thought you might be,” he said. “And I’ve made us an appointment to look at some houses on Saturday too.”
“Houses?” I asked. “You mean no more sterile apartments?”
He shook his head. “No.”
“You know I didn’t actually think that apartment was sterile,” I admitted.
“I know.” He laughed. “But even if you didn’t, you were right. We’re a family, that means we need a house.”
His words set my heart aflutter. I’d never lived in a house before. He really did want to be a real family and the idea of it was so sweet it almost overshadowed my need for information. Almost.
“Sorry to cut this short,” he said. “But I have to go.”
“It’s okay.” I stood up and gave him a weak smile. “Mind if I use your bathroom before I go. I’m sure I’m a mess.”
“What’s mine is yours, baby girl.” He kissed me on the forehead and swatted my ass. “I’ll see you tonight.”
I waited until he was gone and then locked the door behind him. But when I sat down at his desk and pulled out my key, I wasn’t sure I could go through with it.
I had the same feeling of dread as when I’d discovered his secrets back on Belvedere Island. But this was different. I knew Ryland thought he was protecting me by keeping this information from me. And I wanted to trust that he was right, but with our history, I just couldn’t.
I took a deep breath and opened up his file cabinet. There were about a million neatly organized folders in there, and none of them had anything to do with Brayden. So I went through each meticulous drawer one by one until I found what I was looking for. And sure enough, it was there. Right beneath his perfectly organized pens. God, I loved my neat freak.
Please don’t hurt me Ryland.
I pulled the file with Brayden’s name on it from the drawer. And when I opened it, there were surveillance photos. Of Brayden in Chicago. With a bunch of scary looking guys I didn’t know.
I had a sinking feeling in my gut because it wasn’t too hard to guess who they were.
There was some information about Frankie and his associates, which I really had no desire to see. But Ryland obviously thought it was important, so I kept reading through it. From these records, it looked like Frankie’s boss was a guy named Alfredo Zucco. I’d be lying if I said he didn’t scare the shit out of me.
He had cold black, lifeless eyes. And Ryland had been keeping an eye on him too. But I didn’t know why. There were more pictures of Maria Gallo, Frankie’s wife. And they were recent. I was surprised by how scary she looked too.
I kept imagining someone like Norma, who may have been a little scatterbrained, but was generally harmless. But this woman didn’t look harmless at all. Brayden told me Frankie didn’t really work for the mob, but some kind of loan shark. I guess in my mind that had equated to not as dangerous, but clearly that wasn’t true.
If Frankie’s body being found in a dumpster was any indication, these people had no qualms about taking life at the drop of the hat. The Lockhart family was evidence to that as well. They were just collateral damage.
I wondered if Brayden was trying to look into these things. If he was, I didn’t know what his motive could be. By the time I’d gone through the stack of information, I was no closer to understanding what any of it meant. Ryland had been keeping tabs on a lot more people than I ever suspected. But he was the only one who knew why.
And at the end of the day, I had no other choice. I was going to have to come clean about not trusting him and ask him what it all meant.
***
When Ryland got home, I was waiting for him with a special dinner from one of his favorite restaurants. He kicked off his cap-toe Armani dress shoes and loosened up the collar of his navy blue shirt while he watched me with an odd expression.
“You’ve been in a very giving mood today,” he remarked.
I gave him a weak smile. Of course he knew something was up, but I wasn’t going to delve into it right away. I would let him eat first, relax a little before I told him I’d lied to him.
“Come and eat,” I urged him. “Before it gets cold.”
He sat down across from me and dug in. The room was quiet, too quiet. I ate my gnocchi and tried to find something pleasant to say before I dragged up the darkness that seemed to loom over us.
“I’m excited to look at houses on Saturday,” I volunteered.
Ryland polished off the last of his steak and pushed his plate across the table as he leaned back in his chair. “I’m glad to hear it, baby girl. Now come here and give me a cuddle.”
I walked on jelly legs and sat on his lap, curling against his chest. He was so warm and strong beneath me. My solid foundation. I hated that I still didn’t trust him completely, and I felt even worse for lying to him.
“Tell me what’s on your mind.” He rubbed circles over my back. “I know there’s something.”
I clutched at his shirt and started crying. How embarrassing. It was happening more and more the farther along I got in my pregnancy and half the time I didn’t even know why.
“Baby.” He gripped my chin in his fingers and brought my gaze to his. “What’s the matter?”
“I’m a horrible person,” I blurted. “A horrible wife.”
“What are you talking about?” he asked.
“I tricked you today,” I said, tearing my gaze from his. “I came to your office and had sex with you so I could look through your files.”
He stiffened beneath me, and his grip tightened. “Why, Brighton?”
“Because I knew you were hiding something to do with Brayden,” I explained. “I talked to him after you’d seen him in Chicago. And I thought… I didn’t want to believe you’d do that to me again. But I really started to think…”
I couldn’t say the words because it was too devastating to even consider. Ryland sighed and pulled me closer.
“You’d have every right to think that,” he said solemnly. “But I need you to know that’s never going to happen, Brighton. I need you to trust me.”
“I know.” I nuzzled against his neck. “But why didn’t you tell me you were keeping tabs on him?”
“Because I didn’t want you to worry,” he said. “I didn’t want you to have any more unnecessary stress.”
“Well that isn’t your call to make,” I protested. “Not when it comes to my family, Ryland. I need to know what’s going on. Even if I might not like it.”
“C’mon.” He lifted me up and carried me to the couch, setting me down so that my head was in his lap. “I’ll tell you what you want to know, but you have to promise not to get upset. It isn’t good for the baby and I need you to trust that I’ve got the situation under control.”
“Okay.” I nodded.
Ryland stroked his fingers through my hair, massaging my scalp as he spoke. He was staring at the wall, and I could see a hint of that old familiar hatred in his eyes when he started to explain.
“There are things I haven’t told you,” he said. “Things I didn’t ever want
to tell you. But you’re my wife, and I don’t want secrets between us.”
“Me either,” I agreed. “I want to know everything about you, Ryland. The good and the bad. Whatever it is, it’s in the past.”
He paused to let his eyes wander over my face, and I knew in that moment he still saw me as his pure and unsullied salvation. He didn’t want to taint that, and yet he continued anyway.
“I wanted to kill Frankie,” he deadpanned. “But by the time I left the hospital and figured out who killed my family, Alfredo had already taken care of him. He wasn’t at all pleased with the gigantic mess Frankie had made of that situation.”
“I imagine not.” I closed my eyes and breathed through the pain in my chest. As much as I hated Brayden’s decisions, I was grateful for them. Because if he hadn’t been with Frankie that night, Ryland wouldn’t be with me today. It was a catch twenty-two.
“It was all I thought of while I recovered,” Ryland continued. “So you can imagine my disappointment when it was taken from me before I even had a chance. Frankie deserved to die, but it should have been me to do it.”
I wasn’t going to argue with him because that was still his grief talking. It was clear as day in his voice, and I wondered if it would ever lessen over time. Frankie did deserve what he got, but Ryland wasn’t a murderer, as much as he told himself he could be. He was nothing like Frankie.
“A few more months passed, and I felt… lost. I was twenty-four years old, and I had everything. And then one day it was just fucking gone. My dad was still around, but his guilt ate him alive. I couldn’t look him in the eye anymore-I’d lost all respect for him. He was cowering in fear, trying to keep them from getting to me. He was so afraid they would, so I told him to let them come. It made no difference to me.”
More tears squeezed from my eyes, and I buried my face in Ryland’s thigh. I didn’t want him to see how much it hurt to hear this. How much my heart ached for him.
“The next week, he was gone too. He’d sold the house in Chicago and everything else he could to pay them off and leave me an inheritance. And then he ate the barrel of a gun as penance.”
“I’m so sorry, Ryland.”
“I didn’t feel anything when he died,” he said. “I placed sole responsibility for what happened on his shoulders, and he knew it. Perhaps I should have regretted that, but I didn’t. Still don’t, in fact. He was weak. A coward. And I refused to be like him. I refused to forget what happened to my family and who was at fault. That night played through my mind on repeat, Brighton. And there was only one face that I could see. One place for that rage to go.”
He didn’t have to tell me. I already knew it was Brayden. My family. We were guilty by association, just like his family had been. A cruel sort of justice to fit the crime. But there was someone else too. A man at the top of the food chain that I hadn’t given much thought to before. Now that Ryland was talking about it, I had to wonder how he fit into this puzzle.
“What about Frankie’s boss?” I asked. “What about Alfredo?”
“I was well aware that Alfredo gave the order,” he said. “But he was untouchable for someone like me. I was nothing back then, and to him, I was a loose end. Men like Alfredo-they don’t like loose ends. So he was amused as hell when I walked right into his den. It was a big risk. He could have killed me without a second thought, and we both knew it. Instead, I made him a proposition that day.”
“What kind of proposition?” I asked nervously.
“He wanted you and Brayden dead,” he replied in a rough voice. “I asked him to hold off in exchange for some heavy compensation. For seven years-enough time to do what was necessary. To get the resources I needed and to make my plan work.”
His words felt like a lead weight on my chest, and Ryland pulled me up into his arms and stared into my eyes. “I didn’t know you back then,” he said. “I’d never even met you when I made that agreement. I wasn’t thinking straight, Brighton.”
“So he’s going to come after me and Brayden,” I swallowed. “It’s true then.”
“I’m working it out with him.” He clasped my face in his hands and pleaded for me to believe him. “I will never let anything harm you, baby girl.”
“But what about Brayden?” I swallowed. “He’s there. He’s right in the middle of it. Does he know?”
Ryland looked away, his jaw clenching. “I tried to tell him. He doesn’t want to fucking listen. He thinks he can talk Alfredo out of it. That he can go to work with him.”
“What the hell is wrong with him?” I asked.
Ryland didn’t answer, and I was grateful. I knew he hated Brayden, and this was only going to make it worse. But I believed him when he said he was trying to do the right thing.
“I don’t understand how he came to be this way,” I said. “He isn’t the brother that I knew. He isn’t the one I grew up with. I don’t know why he’s trying to follow in Frankie’s footsteps.”
Ryland stroked my back and smoothed my hair away from my face, searching my eyes before he spoke again. “I’m going to protect you, Brighton. No matter what. But there isn’t anything else I can do for Brayden. Not when he’s willingly walking right into the middle of it.”
His words cut me, but it wasn’t his fault. He was right. The same thing I’d learned with Norma. You could only help those who wanted to help themselves.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Ryland
Brighton was curiously quiet as she moped around our bedroom getting ready. This was supposed to be a good day for her. A day when I took her to see the crème de la crème of the bay’s real estate market and told her to take her pick. Anything you want baby, it’s yours. Whatever enthusiasm I’d predicted was swiftly eclipsed by worry.
It was that fucknut Brayden and his dense as shit brain.
He’d gotten to Alfredo, and remarkably, was still breathing-for now. But I didn’t trust that slimy tick for one second. I had an inclination to throw some more money at the problem. Knowing how Alfredo’s brain worked, he’d take that as an insult. We had a deal, he’d say. The same offhand utterance he probably told my father right before our entire family was slaughtered.
Something needed to be done.
There was still, unofficially, another year on the clock. A year for me to figure out the best angle in which to approach this matter. The most important move I’d ever make. I needed to be methodical and precise in my planning and execution.
While common sense dictated I should take my time and be reasonable, I had a pressing need to quash the threat now. Being hasty could wind up getting us all killed. While Alfredo wasn’t actually connected, he was dangerous enough. He had a small army of loyal henchmen and rarely ventured anywhere with no less than six of them.
There was a time when I’d considered taking him on myself. That was until I saw his operation. I wouldn’t make it past the first wave of his crew, realistically. So I’d done what any man in my position would do. I compiled.
Years, I’d had eyes on him. Waiting for him to slip up. To nail him with something that’d actually cut the mustard in the half-baked justice system. But Alfredo was a shrewd one. I had a lot of shit on his men, but nothing on the golden goose himself.
It was irritating as fuck.
Sand slipped through the hourglass, day after day, turning up nothing of significance. It wasn’t until the charity gala that I’d started to follow the breadcrumbs in my head. Alex Burton could’ve said just about anything to ruffle my feathers, but he’d specifically chosen the word loyalty. It rung my alarm, and the threat was clear. He was involved in this somehow. I didn’t know what his angle was, but I’d stake my fortune that he was in bed with Alfredo on this deal. His crew lived by the code. The only law in their circle. And in an unfortunate twist of fate, Alfredo was indisputably loyal to Robert Burton, which also encompassed Alex by default.
Robert and Alex were always cooking up some dubious plot in their smarmy brains. A scheme that undoubtedly put Brighton rig
ht in their crosshairs. Just like her blood relation to Frankie had put her in Alfredo’s and mine.
The grimness of my choices and consequences weighed heavily on my mind. Remorse had a strangle hold on me. But it wouldn’t do me a lick of good to roll over and admit defeat just yet. Like me, Alfredo had a weakness. So did Alex, and so did Robert. I would find it, and I would use it against them if I must.
I would do this because I loved her. And love motivated me perhaps even more so than hatred ever had.
“Come here, baby.” I pulled Brighton into me and kissed her bare shoulder.
She tasted like sunshine, and I couldn’t fucking breathe without her near. She was soft and unblemished and pure as the driven snow. I’d never let anyone darken her life again.
“I’m sorry.” She leaned her head back against my chest and sighed. “I’m not trying to be a Debbie Downer.”
“Should we reschedule for another day?” I asked. “I want this to be a good memory for you. No bad thoughts hanging over us while we pick out our home.”
Her shoulders slumped in relief at my suggestion, and though I was disappointed, the offer was genuine.
“You wouldn’t be mad?” she pressed. “I feel so bad. I just can’t stop thinking about Brayden. He won’t return my calls. He hasn’t talked to Norma either.”
Norma. That was another issue I had yet to deal with. I saw an opportunity to take Brighton’s mind off the situation, and I seized it.
“You know she’s leaving the program in two weeks.”
“I know,” she croaked. “I’m really nervous. She seems like she’s doing so well. I don’t want to get my hopes up, but at the same time I hope it lasts.”
“I think she’ll do fine,” I assured her. “She didn’t have any issues during the three days she was down in Florida.”
“True,” she conceded. “But this is Norma. She’s never been great at follow through.”
“Well, once we get a house, how do you feel about giving her the apartment? Then you can keep an eye on her.”
Brighton spun in my arms and blinked up at me with complete adoration. Her eyes were large and childlike, glassy with unshed tears.
