She turned her head so her cheek rested on my heart.
“I sent a text to Rile. He said your father’s condition is critical and he’s being transported to the ER now.”
“Okay,” she whispered.
Mila was quiet for so long that I thought she may have fallen to sleep, but when I angled my head to check, her eyes were glassy and fixated on nothing.
“What are you thinking about, sweetheart?”
“Adler.”
“What about him?”
“So many things. His father is dead. Someone should tell him.” She sighed. “I wonder if he knew Marshall killed my sister and that she was his sister too.” She paused. “What about his mother?”
“I don’t know much about her.” In everything I’d learned about Marshall Livingston, I found very little about his wife.
“Will he be arrested?”
“Adler?”
She nodded.
“I don’t know the answer to that question either. It will depend on what all he knew, what his involvement was.”
“Do you think he knew all along that his father attacked me?”
I could say without any hesitation at all that I hated Adler Livingston, but that didn’t mean I believed the man knew the extent of his father’s anger. Maybe madness would be a better word.
“I don’t think so,” I finally said. “He may have been his father’s pawn, but my gut tells me he wouldn’t have hurt you.”
“Thank you for saying that, Decker.”
My phone vibrated in my pocket. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath. As much as I wanted to ignore whoever and whatever it was, I knew I couldn’t. I pulled it out and swiped the screen with my thumb.
Judd Knight didn’t make it. The text was from Grinder, not Rile or Edge, so it didn’t surprise me when the next text that came over said, Please give my condolences to Mila.
I dropped the phone on the bed and wrapped my other arm around Mila, holding her as tight as I could without hurting her.
“He’s gone, isn’t he?”
“Yes, Mila, he is.”
“Now I’m really alone.”
I knew from her staggered breathing and the dampness I felt on my shirt that Mila was crying.
I could tell her she wasn’t alone; that she had me, but I knew that wouldn’t be enough or what she needed. I’d been in her life a handful of days, and no matter how many times I reassured her that she could depend on me, count on me, be with me, none of that would change the fact that Mila now saw herself as an orphan. Whether I’d been in her life the last few years or not, didn’t change the fact that Judd Knight had just abandoned his daughter for the second time—and this go-around, it was permanent.
40
Mila
Decker stood by my side through everything. He took me to the cabin on Bluebell Creek and went with me to the funeral home and cemetery to make arrangements for Sybil’s services.
He held my hand when my father’s attorney told me that in absence of any other heir, I’d inherited all of my father’s holdings, and was now a very wealthy woman.
He stood in the back of the room when I met with Knighthawk’s board of directors and told them I wanted nothing to do with my father’s business.
When I told Deck I couldn’t handle making arrangements for my father’s services, he said he’d handle it, and that was the last I heard of it.
He sat next to me when the woman they all called Casper came to the house to tell me that while Adler Livingston was a piece of dog crap of a human being, she didn’t believe he knew anything about his father’s nefarious activities. Casper also told me that Adler’d moved out of my apartment building and that it was up for sale.
Every day, Decker helped me clean up the old house that now belonged to me, as well as make arrangements to turn my grandfather’s house over to the bank.
In the three weeks since my father died, Decker had slept by my side every night without doing anything more than kiss my forehead before I fell asleep.
He never once asked whether I planned to stay in Texas or return to Boston. He didn’t ask what I planned to do with the money and everything else I’d inherited from my father. He didn’t ask anything of me.
As I walked through my life in a daze, he held my hand and guided me. Now, as we sat out on the steps of the front porch, I needed to give him the answers to all the questions he didn’t ask.
“I’m going back to Boston,” I began.
“Okay,” Decker answered without looking at me.
“I made a life for myself there.”
He nodded but didn’t speak.
“I want you to know how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for me.”
He turned his head then, and looked into my eyes. “I would do anything for you, Mila.”
“Texas isn’t my home, Decker. It hasn’t been for a very long time. Even when I used to live here, it wasn’t.”
He turned his head and looked around, maybe as if he wanted to tell me that I did belong here, but he didn’t.
“I’m leaving tomorrow,” I said, standing to go inside. I heard the screen close behind me and knew Decker hadn’t followed.
I slept at the house alone for the first time that night, but before Decker left, he told me he’d be by in the morning to take me to the airport.
“My flight leaves at ten,” I’d told him, somehow knowing he wouldn’t ask.
41
Decker
When I got back from dropping Mila off and went into the barn, Quint was there, waiting for me.
“Well?”
“Well what? She’s gone.”
Quint lowered his head and shook it. He and his wife, Darrow, had gotten back from their honeymoon yesterday morning, and last night, I had told him about everything that happened while they were gone, including the part about how I’d fallen in love with Mila Knight.
“Did you tell her?”
I shook my head. “No use.”
“Seriously, Deck? Have you learned nothing from me?”
While Quint did have a point, given he’d almost lost Darrow because he was too stubborn to tell her how he felt, that didn’t mean my situation with Mila was the same.
“Her life is in Boston. Mine is here.”
“Darrow’s life is in London. Mine is here.”
“But it doesn’t have to be. You’ve got me here, running the place. I could never leave you in charge.”
Quint laughed and flipped me off. “You know those things you see that at the end of a person’s life, they won’t remember the hours they worked or the cars they bought, but they’ll remember the time they spent with people they love?”
“What…the fuck…are you talking about?”
“You know…like those priceless commercials. Ice skates, fifty bucks. Ice skating with your kids, priceless.”
“You’ve lost it. The man I knew, who’s been my best friend since high school, is gone. I don’t know who the hell you are.”
Quint laughed again. “It’s love, man. It changes you. Pretty soon you’ll be quoting this stuff back to me.”
“No, Quint. I won’t be.” It felt good to laugh, even for a few minutes, but the reality was, things weren’t going to work out between me and Mila like they had for Quint and Darrow.
“How did you leave things?”
“I left her at the airport.” I knew that wasn’t what my friend meant, but I was done talking about it. “I’m gonna ride out.”
“I’ll go with you.”
42
Mila
Home, I thought, looking out the plane’s window as we made our descent into Logan. I couldn’t wait to stop at my favorite market and pick up some fresh seafood, go home, and relax in the oasis I’d created for myself in my four-hundred-square-foot apartment.
It might take me some time to get used to the fact that I could sit in front of my air conditioner in my bra and panties if I wanted to without worrying that someone was about to invade my
privacy.
Tomorrow, after I unpacked and did some laundry, I’d look for a new job. It didn’t matter that I didn’t need the money; my life had never been about money.
If there was ever a perfect illustration of money not buying happiness, it would be my father’s life. In the end, it was his money that was his downfall.
As I walked through security and out of the terminal, I looked at the people holding signs with the names of those they were picking up. It wasn’t the first time since I left Texas that I felt the stabbing pain of missing Decker. That began as soon as he drove away after dropping me off at the curbside check-in. Even though it made no sense for him to do so, and I had no right to expect it, part of me thought he’d park and walk me in. When I leaned over to kiss him goodbye, he turned just slightly and kissed my cheek.
Looking out the window as the driver of the car service I’d called from the airport pulled up in front of my building, I didn’t feel the same giddy anticipation as when I’d gazed at the city from the plane. And when I got out of the car, the driver popped the trunk but didn’t get out to help me with my bag. That never would’ve flown in Texas.
I walked down the three steps that led from the sidewalk to the building’s entrance. Had it always been this dirty and grungy? I fiddled with the key that I’d forgotten always stuck, and when I stopped to get my mail, there was a card in it saying I had to pick it up from the post office since it had been full to over-flowing.
Instead of climbing the stairs, I took the elevator. By the second floor, I remembered why I rarely did in the past. It smelled. Horribly, in fact.
These were all things I knew, even if they hadn’t been at the forefront of my memory. That was why I’d painstakingly decorated my apartment in a way that would transport me from the griminess of the city.
I unlocked the door and stood on the threshold, waiting for that feeling of peace to envelop me. It didn’t. My decor didn’t look cool; it looked old, and not in a good way like that of the house off Old Austin Highway.
Leaving my bag next to the closet door, I went into the kitchen and saw my geraniums were dead, and looking out at my tiny patio, I saw the bougainvillea was dead too. It was to be expected; I’d been gone over a month, but still, looking at the sorry state of the place I’d consider my oasis, left me feeling depressed.
The next day, when I picked up my mail, there was another letter from Northeastern College of Music in the pile, this time saying they’d changed their mind and were renewing my contract, after all.
Instead of feeling elated, it pissed me off. First of all, the semester was about to begin and I was completely unprepared. Second, why did they put me through all the worry if they were going to change their mind?
I dropped the rest of the mail on the table inside the door to my apartment and then walked the two blocks to Northeastern’s faculty administration building.
“Miss Knight, it’s so good to see you,” proclaimed the receptionist who’d barely looked up from her desk the last time I was there and certainly hadn’t known my name.
“Um…yeah…hi. I received this letter and—”
“Mila, welcome back,” said Dr. Statler, head of my department, as he came out of the provost’s office. “Great timing. Come in. Dr. Berry would love to get the chance to talk with you since you’re here.”
What the fuck was going on? Before I’d gotten the letter saying they weren’t renewing my contract, I’d been an adjunct instructor, aka lowest on the totem pole. Why then, did the provost want to talk to me?
“Come in,” repeated the provost, who I’d never met before.
“Dr. Berry, may I present Mila Knight. She is the associate professor candidate I mentioned—also an NMC alum.”
“Yes, yes,” said the man, stepping forward to shake my hand. “It’s a pleasure to meet you. May I call you Mila?”
“Of course,” I said, looking between Dr. Berry and Dr. Statler. Associate professor? Where had that come from? “Wait a minute,” I mumbled.
Both men stopped talking midsentence. I pulled the letter out of my handbag and looked at the date. Coincidentally, it was sent two weeks after my father’s death, and one day after the Wall Street Journal article reported his passing along with the news that I was the sole heir to his fortune.
“I stopped in today to let you know that I cannot accept your offer of a contract renewal—”
“You do understand that our intention is to bring you back as an associate professor rather than an adjunct instructor?” said Dr. Statler.
“I do, and thank you, but I am relocating and will no longer be living in Boston.”
“How disappointing to hear,” said Dr. Berry, eyeing Dr. Statler.
“Where will you be relocating?” asked the red-in-the-face head of my former department.
“Texas. As I’m sure you’re aware, I have recently inherited my father’s business holdings.” I turned around to leave, but looked over my shoulder. “Have a nice afternoon, gentlemen.”
I stalked out of the office and back out to the street. I kept walking without any idea of where I was going, but eventually, I ended up at the same park where Adler and I had been the night I got the call about Sybil’s murder. Of course I hadn’t known it was a murder then. I also hadn’t known that Adler Livingston was the worst kind of man…other than his rapist father. The other thing I hadn’t known was that Sybil was only my half-sister. Not that it made any difference. My only regret about Sybil was that we’d never managed to become closer. If I had the chance to do everything over again, I’d be a better role model to my younger sibling.
The bench where I’d gone to return my sister’s call that night was empty. I walked over and ran my hand over the back of it. So much life had happened since that night. So much death too.
Instead of sitting there, I walked over to the area in front of the park’s bandshell and sat in the grass. As Casper said, Adler was a piece of crap of a human being, but that didn’t stop me from missing him sometimes. That didn’t mean I ever wanted to talk to him or see him again, but he had been my friend for four years, and in that time, we’d had fun.
My first night back in Boston, I thought about calling some of the friends I’d made both when I was a student and an instructor at the college, but when I ran down the mental list of who, there wasn’t anyone I felt like talking to.
I didn’t today either. At least no one in Boston. The person I really wanted to talk to was back in Texas, and I’d just lied to my former boss, saying that’s where I planned to relocate.
But had it been a lie? What was there for me here? Even if things didn’t go anywhere between me and Decker, there was still more for me in my home state than there had ever been for me here.
My fingers ached to play the piano, and while I could now afford to buy one, it meant I’d have to move in order to have enough space. Was there anywhere else in Boston I’d want to live? Nowhere was coming to mind.
In Texas, I already had a home.
43
Decker
“Mind if I ride out with you?” Edge asked when he came into the barn and found me in the office.
“You ask me that every day.”
“You aren’t the easiest asshole to get along with these days,” shouted Quint from his perch on the gate of an empty stall.
I didn’t bother to raise my head when I flipped my friend off.
Edge tossed an envelope on the corner of my desk.
“What’s that?”
“Property report on the Brandywine Ranch.”
“Brandywine? Why?”
Edge turned around and made eye contact with Quint. Both men turned and looked at me.
“Jesus. What?”
“He doesn’t know,” said Quint, coming in to sit on the edge of the desk.
I stood up, ready to walk out, but Quint rested a hand on my shoulder. “Mila’s farmhouse is on the outer edge. She probably has no idea what she’s got there. Gotta be at least a thousand acres.
”
“Shit,” I said, shrugging Quint’s hand away and walking over to Ike’s stall. I saddled him up as fast as I could, threw a leg over, and edged the horse out into the wide open.
There was absolutely no chance that I could tell Mila how I felt about her now. She’d think I was after the same thing every person she came in contact with probably was. She’d think I’d want a piece of her pie when all I wanted was her. No ranch, not even a farmhouse. Just Mila. Whatever she wanted, I’d give her. Wherever she wanted to go, I wanted to be by her side, holding her hand.
The stupidest thing I’d ever done was not get on that plane with her and never look back. In the short time since she’d been gone, I realized that the King-Alexander Ranch meant something to me because it was home. The people I loved and cared for had always been there. Even after Z left, it was still his home, the place he always came back to no matter where in the world his job took him.
Why hadn’t I realized that sooner? Why couldn’t I see that home was where my heart was—and now my heart was with Mila.
I rode past the Schoolhouse pasture, coaxed Ike into jumping the fence, and kept going. Mila was gone, but I still needed to feel close to her.
As I got nearer to the house, I could swear I heard piano music. Maybe I’d spent so much time listening to Mila play, I heard it in my memory.
When I got close to the front door, I knew that what I heard wasn’t inside my head. I tied Ike off and walked to the front door. I probably should’ve knocked, but I couldn’t wait. I had to know who was in that house.
As I came around the corner, the first thing I saw was Mila’s beautiful blonde hair cascading down her back in soft waves. I leaned against the open door frame, loving the way her body moved with the music. Loving the way she carried the most exquisite sounds I’d ever heard from her fingertips and into my ears. Loving her.
Decked (The Invincibles Book 1) Page 17