by Scott, S. L.
Loved ones.
Loved one.
Bennett.
He comes to the side of the bed while I try to catch my breath. Sitting down with a sigh, he rubs my shoulder and leans in to kiss it before asking, “Another nightmare?”
“Yes.” Another nightmare. The last week has turned my life upside down, more than it was already. Although we’re back in Manhattan, my days and nights have been filled with visions of what happened. I can still feel the cold gun pressed to my head. I can smell the Scotch on Kurt’s breath. I can see the blood that once covered my body. I keep experiencing the sensation that I can’t get away, that I’m slipping on glass and blood. I hate it. I hate him.
I have another appointment scheduled to talk to somebody, somebody who didn’t live through it, somebody who can hear my story and hopefully help me move past it one day.
There’s still unfinished business that lingers like a wet shroud, a trial, blackness trying to snuff out our light. I was once a dark princess. I blamed myself for everything that happened, for causing a chain of events I attribute to wanting my father’s approval. Through the pain and suffering I caused others, that I’ve caused myself, I’m finally ready to take responsibility for my part but not for the aftermath.
I look up at the man, a bright knight in shining armor, a giant in size and heart, a movie star in my sky, and I can’t help but want for this to be over for him, for me, and for us. So I sit up and crawl into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck. I don’t lean my head on his shoulder. Instead, I look him straight in the eyes. “You made me a steak salad.”
“Huh?” His nose crinkles in confusion, but I much prefer the smile that accompanies it to the concern that was there.
“The night we were attacked at your apartment, and we had to leave. You made me a carb-free dinner.”
He laughs. “You caught that?”
“I did. I’m sorry we didn’t get to eat it. It looked really good.”
“Stop apologizing. You didn’t mess up our dinner plans. You just made them a little more exciting.”
I kiss those delectable lips and then whisper against them, “You made an effort for me. I’ve never had anyone care that much before.”
“You’re making me feel guilty.”
Surprised, I tilt my head. “Why do you feel guilty?”
“Because it wasn’t entirely for you. The meal was, but dessert . . . I bought brownies, and they’re full of carbs, in hopes that you’d let me eat them off you.”
Giggling, I raise an eyebrow. “You want to eat brownies off me? Isn’t that a bit crumbly?”
“Mixed with whipped cream and . . . fuck. I’m getting hard.”
“Who knew brownies were the way to your—” I clear my throat, feeling him harden beneath me. “Heart.”
Kissing me below my ear, he knows the way to my . . . heart, too. “It’s not the brownies getting me hard, sweetheart.” Running a finger along the top of my breasts, he elicits a moan from deep within, making me crave more.
“Can we just stay here all day and ignore the rest of the world?”
“I wish we could.”
The troubles of the world sneak back in to burst our bubble, and I rest my head on his shoulder. “How long until we leave?”
“Just over an hour.”
“I guess I should get ready,” I say, though I don’t move a muscle. I want to stay here all day. The building may be the most secure location on earth—even more so with Ethan’s upgrade—but Bennett’s my safe place.
Standing, he doesn’t release me until my feet are firmly on the ground. That’s something I find myself doing less of lately. Bennett Everest keeps me floating on cloud nine. At one time, I was willing to do anything to save my family’s fortune, money I realize they lost a long time ago. Before Bennett, money didn’t bring anything but pain. Knowing I have him means more than having a check I can’t cash. He believes in me. He loves me—flaws and all.
Just as I’m about to slip into the bathroom, he catches my hand and twirls me back into his arms. “I’m working in the living room if you need anything.” I hate how he worries.
My sweet boyfriend can’t help it with that big heart he carries around. I kiss him, and he grabs my ass. I swat him away before we lose an hour in the shower getting dirty. “For practically being strangers, you sure are handsy.”
“You love my hands on you.”
“I do. And your face.” I could really use all of him on me and in me right now. “Do we have to go?”
He chuckles. “Yes, but once we’re home, you’re mine. All mine for the rest of the night.”
“I can’t wait.” Giggling, I start the shower and then undress, but stop and hit the button to turn the glass from clear to private. This place is decked to the nines. I love it here with him, not only because of the security but because of the family. Although I don’t share their last name, I’ve become one of them. They’ve accepted me with open arms, and that says a lot about how much they care for Bennett and his happiness.
Forgetting my hair clip on the nightstand, I open the door to the bedroom. I stop when I find him sitting on the bed, his head down, and holding my e-reader. Returning to him, I stand between his legs and lift his chin up. “What are you thinking about?”
Holding up the e-reader, he says, “You had to leave the books you love in Paris. And you haven’t been back to your apartment here. Sometimes I wonder if you’re happy. If you’re really okay. With me.” He always checks on me. I don’t think I could sneeze right now without him making sure I don’t need a visit to urgent care. It’s wholly unexpected and has stolen my heart in the best of ways.
This is love. This is what love is made of. Love is Bennett.
“My books weren’t collectibles, but novels I loved. I can buy more. Don’t worry about me. I’m happy. Everything in Paris was just stuff. I brought what matters most back to New York. You. You make me happy. You make me feel safe.”
His arms come around me, and he pulls me in to kiss my belly. “We can thank my brother for the security.”
“I meant my heart, my soul, my well-being is safe in your arms. I’m spoiled.”
“And I plan to spoil you rotten.”
“Like you.” I laugh.
“Yes, just like me.” He stands, kissing my head. “Go shower. I have work to do and then I think we should pay your place a visit.”
My whole body sighs under the weight of that thought. I’ve put it off, but he’s right. “All right, but I don’t want to stay long. I love it here and now that it’s more secure than ever, thanks to Ethan, I want to come back and cuddle for a while.”
“I’ll make sure to tell him how much we appreciate it, but Ethan lives for the security stuff. So figuring out how to lock down the building was a challenge he got to geek out on and get done in record time. His brain works in crazy ways.”
I linger in the doorway to the bathroom. “I can’t say I’m not impressed. Not only are the windows coated in mesh made from some kind of extraterrestrial technology,” I tease, “but the steel panels installed mean business. Yep, I must say you Everests are impressive.”
“We Everests?” he challenges with a look that begs to play.
I don’t want to be late, though, so I feed the ego. “You, babe. You are impressive.”
“I thought that’s what you meant.” He chuckles as he leaves the room, but I hear him in the hall as he walks away. “Fifty-four minutes. Shake that sweet ass, sweetheart.”
This apartment was the first finished and Bennett included me when we could move back in as if I’d always lived there. Ally and Hutton’s place is supposed to be done today. It will take a couple of weeks to finish making the security adjustments to the penthouse. They’re staying in safe locations until the apartments are cleared for them to move back in. Every pane of glass on the top two floors will have a steel panel that slides down when something gets within twenty feet of the building up here.
I pray it never comes to t
hat, but I feel positive about healing the wounds that caused my claustrophobia. I just chalk it up to go along with all the other damage Kurt caused and make sure I’m not only honest with myself about where to place the blame but to talk truthfully with Bennett and my therapist when those fears arise.
The box from my father had photos from my childhood, my mom growing up, her wedding pictures, and Braden as a baby. Broken glass from a framed picture of my mom holding me as a baby is scattered at the bottom. I dusted it off and put it in an album.
I try not to let my heart ache, but I’m mourning all three of their deaths these days. It’s easier to think of them gone forever than to think of them at all.
When McCoy Properties filed bankruptcy a few days ago, Ethan bid and won a portion of their Manhattan portfolio, including the building across the street from The Everest.
In a stroke of irony, the properties were sold the same day Kurt was denied bail for being a flight risk and locked in a French jail awaiting trial.
I’m not sure about the amenities or quality of life in a French prison, but I suspect it will be nicer than he deserves. I have never wished ill will on anyone before, but he and my brother are tied these days.
Journaling has helped to make sense of everything that’s happened to me. Seeing it on paper gets it out of my head. Reading my story makes it clear how easily they manipulated me. I regret ever walking into the McCoy offices, but the shame rests squarely on my father’s shoulders.
Kurt sang to the police the first night he was arrested in hopes of a reduced sentence. They hadn’t offered a plea bargain, but he was still begging for his freedom as if he could persuade them. He’s met his match.
I received a message the following afternoon from Lars. My father and Braden had been arrested that morning for kidnapping, conspiracy to commit a felony, and a list of other charges I lost track of. It didn’t take long for Braden to make his one call. With the company funds cut off and his inheritance burned through, I sent the call to voicemail.
I never heard from my father.
The evidence the police have gathered so far will put them both away for a very long time. They just spent all the money they have on bail, so getting an experienced lawyer is out of reach.
It may have taken me years to realize, but now that I see I was never going to get the love I deserved from him or be treated as an equal to my brother, I knew what I had to do. I’ve realized that their love is conditional. Unlike the Everests’ love—unconditional. So I have a process to follow.
Acknowledge the problem.
Address it.
Solve it.
Survive it.
I’ve done the first two. Now it’s time for the last two.
Under the shower spray, I wash my body and exhale, reminding myself to breathe. Don’t let the betrayal win. I’m healing through love, but I will not give another second of my time to their hate. They will never change, so I have to.
38
Winter
It’s been almost two months since I’ve been here and now nothing about this apartment feels like me anymore. The deep yellow couch and rich violet velvet drapes, the brushed bronze lamp, and the turquoise accents are so pretty, each piece chosen to make a statement. I bought it all, paid for it with my hard work and long hours, but now it reminds me of the apartment in Paris.
Too busy.
Too cluttered.
Too much of everything.
A pretty bow on the shell of the life I was leading.
A facade.
I prefer clean lines and warm leather these days. Sunlight that brings out the gold in soulful eyes and arms that wrap their love around me.
I was always searching for something to make me feel whole, to make me feel loved, to make me feel anything but shame in what I’d done. I never found it in a man, especially not the ones who were supposed to protect me. I found who I was when I turned toward the sun, soaking in his rays.
Bennett Everest walked right up to that table and into my life. He didn’t accept anything less than all of me and loved me more for it.
That’s a real man.
So I’ll spend my life giving thanks in the ways he deserves—kisses, support, laughter, and love. I turn to find him waiting by the door as if needing an invitation. He’s invited into my life. Wherever I go, I want him with me.
I pause knowing someone else has been here. My belongings touched. This feeling in my gut twists, but I carry on. Get in. Get out. I empty the basket of mail I’ve collected while I was gone onto the coffee table. “This place feels like a betrayal to what we’re building together.”
“Our life,” he says, not missing a beat. He walks around, looking at the décor and the few photos I have displayed on the coffee table. Picking up my favorite, he says, “I like this one of you and your mom. We should put it in our living room.” Glancing up, he holds it out for me.
“Just like that, you want my stuff mixed with yours?”
A question was never asked or a conversation had about moving in with him. We just fell into a life together. It’s a life I don’t ever want to fall out of. It’s a relationship I’m willing to work for when the honeymoon dating stage is over.
“Just like that.”
I want to hug him, bury myself in his arms, and disappear for a little while. “I’d like that very much.”
“You can bring anything you like. I want your input. I want your touch. I was even thinking we could put a few photos of us around the place.” The simple offer awakens a swarm of butterflies in my stomach. After setting the frame down, he sits on the couch. “I want it to feel like your home as much as mine. I know you didn’t choose it, but it’s safe and—”
“I love it there. I do feel safe, and we have great neighbors.” Moving around the sofa, I wrap my arms around his middle and look up at him.
“We do.” His smile makes my heart happy. He also makes it incredibly hard to stay on task. “I’ll look around for a few items I want to keep, but I’ve lived without most of it for so long, I think I’m ready to get rid of everything.”
“What about the apartment itself?”
“Including that. It’s time to close the door forever.” I shuffle through the mail that arrived after I was kidnapped that night. Just acknowledging that I was taken is another step on the healing staircase. I had my rights taken away, my choice, my life. “It’s time to part ways. So you’re totally good with having a full-time roommate?”
He sits back patiently. “If it’s you, I’ve been all in since the moment I saw you in that pink sweater at the bistro.”
“I was wearing pink?” The sweetness causes me to stay because I don’t want to miss a word of this.
“I remember thinking you were the only thing I saw under that overcast sky. A burst of color on a rainy day.”
“You need to stop being so romantic, or we’re going to be stuck here hours longer than planned.”
Sitting forward, ready to leap at an invitation, he asks, “In bed?”
I burst out laughing as I continue to sort the mail. “Later. We have work to do.”
“What’s this?” I look over at the envelope in his hands. Three addresses, crowd the front, and two red undeliverable stamps.
“Huh.” I take it from him and turn it over several times. The date is from December of last year. “I’m not sure, but someone has tried to get it to me for almost a year now.” I rip it open while reading the different stamps and the addresses marked on it. “This was delivered to the house where we lived with my mom. Then it was sent to the apartment where my father raised us. I guess Fred turned it away.”
“Interesting. It finally made it here.”
“The return address is a lawyer’s office.” I pull out the paper inside and unfold it. The first thing that catches my eyes is a silver key. My mouth falls open because so much makes sense now. “This is what my father wanted from me.”
“What is it?”
“The missing key to the locket.�
� Tears flood my eyes when I see my mom’s signature at the bottom of the letter written on a lawyer’s letterhead. The law office sounds vaguely familiar, but I’m more interested in the letter itself to dwell on it. Covering my mouth, I silently read:
Dearest Winter,
Happy Birthday, my sweetest daughter. This letter is to find you on your 25th Birthday, so if you’re reading it, that means it made it safely to you.
I want you to know that you will always be with me, and I will always be with you. Ring the bell and I’ll be near.
Stay the warrior I know you were born to be, strong and brave like I raised you because sometimes life doesn’t turn out the way we plan. If that happens, here’s the key to set them straight again.
I love you,
Mom
Shifting the paper from my lap, a tear just misses it. “My mom was amazing.”
“You got more than her looks.”
I feel strong, stronger than I’ve felt in years because of this man sitting next to me and my mom always being in my heart. Despite the bad that’s happened, I feel like the luckiest woman alive.
I pull the key off gently, not wanting the tape to rip the paper.
Bennett peeks at me. “You’re not wearing the necklace.”
“No, but I want to try the key as soon as we get home.”
“We can go whenever you’re ready.”
I read the letter one more time before folding it and tucking it back into the envelope. “Be right back.”
In my bedroom, bras, panties, and shoes are strewn across the bed. Makeup scattered on the vanity. Purses on the floor. I didn’t leave it like this, so someone has rifled through my belongings. I can’t see the fingerprints of the burglar, but I feel violated the same as if he touched me himself. The saddest part is I don’t know who to blame—my father, Braden, or Kurt. How did I ever accrue so many enemies?
“None of this stuff matters,” I remind myself. “It’s just stuff.”
