Second Chances_A Billionaire Bad Boy Romance

by Ellie Danes

  A solitary tear pushed its way to the bottom of my eye and crawled down my cheek. Brittany reached up to brush it away, her hand lingering against my face for a moment. Her soft fingers quivered as we locked eyes. Before she responded, she wet her lips with the tip of her tongue and then bit down on her lower lip, still staring into my eyes and piercing me, making me drown in their freckled blueness. Her lips parted slightly, and I watched as she took in a sharp breath and held it, her breasts pushed out as she brought her hand from my cheek to my knee.

  Chapter 20

  Brittany

  I brought my hand down to his knee, lightly scratching it to comfort him. My suspicions had been accurate, I told myself as everything he had just confessed sank in. Yet, none of it scared me because I had been expecting something like this. I had known since meeting Dalton that something was off—something bigger than him hiding his criminal record or his involvement with my sister and her killer. What did shock me was what he had done and how he had gone to the police to bring the gang down. He had gone in fully aware that he could once again have gotten thrown into jail, and had been ready to take that responsibility for his actions and hold himself accountable.

  “You did good, my friend.” I tried to lighten the mood by speaking in a poorly constructed accent, and Dalton gave me a half-smile. I wasn’t quite sure how to respond at first, but I did want him to know I was proud of him. “You’re one of the closest friends I have, Dalton, and I stand by my statement earlier. No matter what, I value our friendship, and I feel safer whenever you’re around.” I took his hand in mine, enjoying how his rough callouses felt against my fingertips. “I do want you in my life,” I said, and then went on to say that I was sorry about everything he’s had to go through in his life and the situation with his real and foster parents. “Speaking of fathers, I will need your help with my father.”

  “Of course,” he said. “Anything.”

  I told him how my father had agreed to come over later tonight and that I had been planning on discussing Talia with him and how much he knew about Dalton, but after hearing Dalton speak about his own parents, I knew now what it was that I had to say to my father tonight. I had an obligation to myself to tell my father I no longer wanted to go to grad school, and that I was dropping out to pursue my own dreams.

  “Your father will most likely kick you out of this apartment, won’t he?” Dalton asked.

  “I’m scared to death,” I confessed. “I’m a hundred percent positive he will kick me out of this apartment the minute I tell him my plan. I don’t have enough money to pay rent on the room myself, and I’ll probably be out on the streets.”

  “I’ll never let that happen.” Dalton placed his hand on top of mine which still rested on his knee. “I’m here to support you, no matter what storm crosses your ocean.” He raised my hand to his lips, and I wish he had instead leaned in to meet my own lips.

  My phone began to ring in my pocket. It was my father, and when I didn’t pick up he sent me a text saying he was outside waiting to take me to dinner nearby. He didn’t seem to want to enter the building again after the fight we’d gotten into last time we’d seen each other.

  Dalton saw the caller ID and squeezed my hand tightly. “I’m here,” he whispered.

  I smiled, then leaned over and kissed him on the cheek.

  “Now I have something which I must fix in my life.” I said, imitating what he had said to me before his adventure with the police.

  I left him in the courtyard and went out to meet my father. He was ending a call over speakerphone when I got in the car.

  “That was Reginald,” he said, his voice laden with irritation. “I’ve been unable to convince him to give you a second chance.”

  “Good.” I dove right into the conversation. “I don’t want a second chance, and I am dropping out of school, Father.” I added the word ‘father’ at the end to add punch to my words, and my father turned the car off before we had even left the front of the building.

  “Excuse me, young lady?”

  My throat clenched up and suddenly I felt nauseous, but glancing back at the apartment complex, I thought of Dalton and could feel the heat of his hand still on my own. “I want my own life.”

  “This is because of that Dalton character, isn’t it? You need to know something about him, Brittany Wellington, and you better listen good to what I’m about to tell you.”

  “He’s a criminal,” I finished for him. “He already told me, and I don’t care. He was sent to jail after fighting for Talia.”

  “He went to jail because he’s just as violent as Krall.” My father spat out the name of my sister’s murderer, a name that was also never used in our household.

  “No, he went to jail because he tried to stop a violent man named Krall.”

  “Are you trying to spit on your sister’s memory? She would be—”

  I didn’t want to hear the rest of it, so I got out of the car. With a slam, my father followed suit and chased me as I marched back up the steps to the building. He grabbed my arm and spun me around to face him.

  Before he could say anything, I blurted, “You suffocated Talia, and now you’re suffocating me!”

  I ripped my arms from his grip, then turned to go inside. Mrs. Curtis was sitting as usual by the front door, reading her book. She smiled at me as I blew past, my father hot on my heels.

  “I’m only trying to protect you from making the same mistakes that she made, which eventually got her killed.” My father whispered so hard I swore that he was yelling at me as I dug in my pockets for my keys.

  I could feel Dalton’s presence still in the courtyard, and I looked over and saw his stoic expression. He gave me a confident nod of encouragement.

  “You never knew her, Dad,” I said. “You never knew Talia, you never knew your own daughter and you lost her, and you’ll lose me, too. I won’t die, I won’t get murdered, but I’ll be dead to you.” I wanted to seem confident, but I could feel my rage taking over so I took a deep breath after raising my voice at him. I had my keys in my hands. They clanked together as my hands shook. In a calmer tone, I said, “I love you, Dad, but it doesn’t seem like you love me or loved Talia, you only love your idea of us in your head. Talia’s gone, you can’t bring her back and you can’t fix the broken relationship you two had, but I’m still alive. Dad, I’m still alive, so please, let me live my life.”

  With a grunt, my father threw his arms in the air. “I give up. If you want to flush your life down the drain, be my guest.” He turned, and I watched him walk out the entryway to the apartment and begin descending the steps in the front. I turned to Dalton, who had sat watching the entire thing from the courtyard, and held back tears as I forced a smile on my face to let him know that I had finally stood up to my father and I was proud of myself. My smile wasn’t successful, and I could feel it curling deeper into a frown, so I retreated alone into my apartment.

  Chapter 21

  Dalton

  “Mr. Wellington, hey, I have a question for you!” I bounded from my spot in the courtyard and ran toward Brittany’s father who had now made it to the steps outside of the apartment building.

  With a murderous expression on his face, he spun around to face me. “I do not want to hear anything from you, boy.”

  I wanted to spit on his leather shoes, maybe scuff them a bit, but I held back and politely answered, “That’s fine, sir, I’d really rather not talk to you. But it concerns your amazingly talented and kind-hearted daughter.”

  “Is August privy to you seducing my daughter?”

  “Well, sir, it was not a one-sided seduction, and no, in fact, but I was intending to call him after this.”

  “Do that.” Brittany’s father stepped into his car. I opened his passenger side and nearly gave the old man a heart attack.

  “I want to ask for your daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  “Get out of my car before I call the cops.”

  I held up my hands and stepped back fro
m his car, showing that I meant no harm. Brittany’s father reached over and closed his passenger door. He started his car, and after a moment of hesitation he opened his window a crack. I leaned in to hear him better.

  “You want to ask Brittany to marry you?” he asked.

  I nodded.

  His expression was incredulous. “Now?”

  “No, not now. Just in the future. In a few years, or maybe in a few months, but I know she’s the one.”

  “Why in god’s name are you telling me this?”

  “It felt like the right thing to do.”

  His frown deepened. “Well, don’t, because it isn’t.”

  “I’m sorry, sir, I’ve already made myself a promise, Brittany a promise, and earlier in the courtyard, I made a promise to Talia.”

  Staring straight ahead out of his windshield, Brittany’s father had the driver shut off his car. “You made a promise to my daughter Talia? That’s impossible. She is no longer with us.”

  “I know. But she finally answered me in the courtyard just now. I had asked for her blessing a while ago, and as Talia is known to do, she took forever in answering.”

  I could see the chip of a smile start to peek on the side of Brittany’s father’s lips as he must have remembered how Talia used to act. He finally turned to me, his eyes gray as stone.

  “She answered you in the courtyard? Are you drunk, young man?”

  “Completely dry,” I said, “and I heard her clear as day.”

  I had heard her, a soft voice on the wind as it rustled the lavender I’d planted in the courtyard. As the stems of the lavender rubbed against each other, I could hear her favorite saying ring through the apartment complex as if she stood right next to me. “Why not?”

  She had answered my question from the laundry room days ago.

  To Brittany’s father, I said, “I will protect Brittany, no matter what, and I will not stoop to the depths I did when protecting Talia. I will care for Brittany, and I’ll earn enough money on my own without my inheritance to support her in whatever she wants to do, which I know is painting.”

  “So, you’ve convinced yourself you have the blessing of my daughter who passed away while you were in a cell for assault, and now you want my permission?”

  “No, not exactly, I just thought the right thing to do would be to let you know. It would be nice to have your blessing, but you’re a dick who stifles his daughter’s dreams so it doesn’t much matter anyway.” I was ready for him to back his car up and run me down after I threw those words in his face

  Instead, his brow furrowed, and he clamped his mouth shut. He stared out front through his windshield again, then nodded to himself. “Do whatever the hell you want, just don’t expect any support from me.” And with that, he drove off.

  That was when I called my father back. He exploded at first about how I had missed my meeting with his assistant, not letting me get a word in edgewise.

  Then I told him everything, about the gang, about the police, and about wanting to marry Brittany. He was livid, mostly about the gang association, but my foster mother spoke up weakly in the background of the call. She said, “This is what Elizabeth wanted. He’s finally become a better man.”

  “Mariah, he has caused a scandal, and just as I warned him, that breaks the contract we all agreed upon. I cannot release the money—”

  For a crucial moment, Mariah Jones grew a backbone. “No, August, he did not break the contract decided upon by Elizabeth and Dalton’s parole officer. Yes, the gang thing may be a scandal, but one that will inevitably lead to good press for the son of the Jones family. He has found a woman and he has fallen in love, and he has chosen to finally walk a different path than his original one we had scooped him off of when it landed him in jail. Now, don’t make this any messier than it is by getting lawyers involved and creating a scandal with this denial of giving Dalton his money. The money is rightfully his, and if Brittany agrees to marry Dalton in the next two years, you cannot withhold it from him.”

  I held my breath, waiting for my foster father’s response.

  “Take your damn money, he spat. “Having to watch after you is too much. I’ll be glad to finally be rid of you. Also, Mariah misspoke—you are not the adopted son of the Jones family, you are the Mallard bastard I’ve had stuck in my side for years now. Once you have your money, you will be a stranger to us.”

  “Dalton, honey,” Mariah said, “he doesn’t mean it, he’s just up—”

  With a resounding click, I could tell that my foster father had hung up the phone, silencing my mom on the line as well. Perhaps his threat had been the truth, or maybe it was regrettable words flung out at me in the heat of the moment. Either way, none of it mattered to me. All I cared about was getting back inside to hold Brittany close.

  Chapter 22

  Brittany

  I could hear him yell to my father but I couldn’t make out what he was saying. I went over to my window to peek out and watch their interaction, worried that my father would drive over Dalton and leave him flat on the sidewalk. Keeping out of sight behind my blinds, I strained my ears so that I could make out what Dalton was talking to my father about. The only word I could make out was marriage.

  It scared me at first, flushing all the blood out of my brain and making my legs go weak. I was too young to think about such things, and I had only met Dalton recently. On top of that, Dalton still had a troubled past he was working through, and my life had just gotten very complicated now that I’d told my father I would no longer be following the predetermined path he had for me. My chest felt about ready to pop, as if someone was jamming too much air into it, or it was filled with carbonated liquid and a gremlin inside my chest had begun shaking it vigorously.

  Then, just as suddenly as the panic had set it, it subsided. I pictured Dalton and me holding hands down at the harbor, our hair gray and rings hugging the fingers on our left hands. I smiled to myself, realizing that this fantasy was something I wanted. Why not, I asked myself, and even though Dalton was rough around the edges and was the opposite type of man that my parents approved of, I could only think of reasons why I should marry Dalton.

  The first one was that he made me happy, made me feel like I was enough, and encouraged everything in me that I loved. The second was how much I loved him, and how much I knew he cared about me, and I knew that Talia would approve of this feeling we shared. A bonus reason, and one that I certainly didn’t need in order to be attracted to Dalton because I already wanted him so badly and it wouldn’t matter either way, was that if we were to marry then he would be able to gain access to his money, and we would piss off both sets of our parents.

  My internal dialogue came to a halt as I heard Dalton’s footsteps approaching my door. The man who was willing to risk millions of dollars and his freedom to do what he thought and felt was right, the man who had defended my sister, the man who had helped me stand up to my father, the man who could look straight through me and see me for who I truly was, that man was walking to my door.

  He knocked. I made my way to over and slowly unlocked it, the latch making a deep thud as I undid it. I opened the door.

  Dalton pushed me back against the wall in the entryway to my apartment, closing the door as he did. His lips were on mine as he pressed his weight into me. His large, rough hands gripped me by my shoulders and slowly slid down to my waist, his callouses felt rough against my soft skin. He bit at my lower lip, sending a spasm down my thighs, and I could feel him getting harder against me.

  I ran my hands around his hair that fell over his ears, pulling him harder against me. I pushed my tongue in and out of his mouth, then ran it over my teeth as I pulled back to look him in the eye. When our eyes met, lightning passed between them, electrocuting me until I could feel a slight wetness in my panties, and Dalton lifted me up to carry me to the bedroom.

  He lay me down on the bed and swung a leg over me, straddling me as he removed his shirt. His tattoos glowed in the dim light peeking th
rough the curtains, and I could see my sister’s name on his chest. I reached out and touched it, feeling how the tattoo bumped out at the lettering. He started to say something, but I put a finger to his lips.

  “I want you, all of you,” I whispered.

  “You can have all of me.” He wrapped his lips around my finger, sucking on it lightly to tease me on what was about to come, and then he leaned down to my waistline and lifted up my shirt slightly to kiss just below my belly button. He hooked his fingers into my waistband and began to pull down, slowly removing my pants. He scratched his short nails down the outer sides of my thighs, kissing my inner thighs starting at the knee and progressively getting closer to my panties. He kissed me through the fabric, and then hooked his fingers around the lace waistband to peel them off of me. He teased me first, slightly swirling his tongue around the outside before completely taking me in his mouth. When his tongue was inside me I moaned, slamming my hands against the wall behind me and arching my back. I could feel the vibrations of him moaning too, his nose and tongue massaging me.

  “You taste amazing.” He groaned in pleasure as he started to kiss up my stomach and pull my shirt off. Soon, he had me pinned down, completely naked underneath him with his own pants still tight around his waist. He reached down and undid his belt and then he stood up off the bed to slide his pants down. He was hard and he was caught in his briefs because the fabric had gotten caught on his stiffness. When it was finally free it slapped hard against his lower abs. I leaned over and took him fully in my mouth, reaching around to grab his firm ass and squeeze. He pulled my hair as I moved my tongue around him, tasting him and teasing him.

  “Get back on the bed,” he commanded, and I obeyed, letting him ease himself back on top of me. “Brittany, I want no one else. You make me whole again.”