The Wedding Rescue, Book Five (An Alpha Billionaire Club BBW Romance)

by Wilder, Alexa

  By the time I had them on, Dylan had picked out a top for me and was getting dressed himself. I took a minute to brush my hair and refasten it in a pony tail. It was still stiff from all the hair spray I’d used the night before. I needed a shower, but whatever was going on, it didn’t look like a shower was on the agenda.

  Dylan had his keys in his hand as I exited the bathroom. To my surprise, he also carried my purse. Things must be serious if he was returning my purse. For a second, anxiety chilled my heart. Was he getting rid of me? No, he was being far too sweet to be dumping me. Maybe he’d gotten my purse from its hiding place because he’d finally realized I wasn’t going to leave him. Not unless he tossed me out.

  His arm wrapped around my shoulders in a protective embrace as we headed to the elevators. I leaned into him, nerves rising as he remained silent, the serious expression on his face growing more pained with each moment. And more pissed off.

  “Will you tell me what’s going on now?” I asked, my voice low, as if I could soothe whatever had him upset. He gave me a tight squeeze and shook his head.

  “Not yet. I want to tell you in private and we need to get moving. As soon as we’re in the car, I’ll fill you in.”

  “But no one is hurt?” I asked. Even though he’d said this wasn’t about her, my mom was still on my mind. Something happening to my mom was the only thing I could think of that would be truly awful at this point.

  Unless this had to do with the video. Now that a little time had gone by, more of the implications of the video had hit me. My first thought had been for Dylan, but my practical side had emerged to point out that the video would do me far more damage than it could strike at Dylan. He had the money to rebound if he lost his company. If it got out, I’d absolutely lose my job and no reputable accounting firm would hire me.

  “And it’s not the video?” I asked in a small voice. He’d assured me it was taken care of, but the unexpected happened every day. Look at me, snuggled up to Dylan Kane. Unexpected was a massive understatement. He wrapped both arms around me, dropping his head to kiss my hair.

  “No, it’s not the video,” he whispered. “Forget about that video. Axel’s guys found every copy of it. It’s gone. And we’ll be careful in the future. I won’t let you be exposed like that again. I promise.”

  The vehemence in his voice was both comforting and alarming. My nerves ratcheted up another notch. I knew better than to ask him what was going on again. If he didn’t want to tell me until we got to the car, he wouldn’t.

  Endless minutes later, buckled into the passenger seat of his Maserati, I waited for him to break the heavy silence. Now that we were alone, he didn’t drag it out.

  “Your house is on fire. Your neighbor was out watering her flowers an hour ago and saw smoke coming from your kitchen. She called the fire department. They’re there now.”

  “Who called you?” I asked, my thoughts frozen aside from the most basic questions. My house was on fire. How could my house be on fire? I hadn’t left any candles burning. The electrical systems weren’t new, the bungalow itself was decades old, but I’d had everything checked thoroughly before I’d moved in.

  “Axel.”

  “How did Axel know?” It didn’t matter. What mattered was my house. But I couldn’t quite get my head around that.

  “He put cameras on your door. Part of a security system I asked him to install. They got an alert on the fire around the same time your neighbor saw it. If he’d had a chance to put in the full system, he would have known soon enough to catch it.”

  “It’s bad?”

  Dylan turned to look at me, his eyes concerned. “We’ll know more when we get there.”

  5

  Leigha

  I was numb. For the rest of the ride I stared out the window, watching the familiar streets of Vegas fly by. My house was on fire. If the fire was big enough, the house would be a total loss. My house. Everything I owned was in that house. I had good insurance. Actually, it was great insurance. I wasn’t worried about the money. I was broke, but that was what insurance was for in the first place.

  I’d be able to repair any damage, even buy a new house if I had to. But I’d never get back the pictures of my Dad, or my high-school debate team trophy, or Bugsy, the stuffed rabbit I’d had since I was in infant. We’d been inseparable until I started kindergarten. He was threadbare and faded, but I still loved him. He was on a bookcase in my bedroom. Maybe he’d be okay.

  The warm pressure of Dylan’s hand around mine yanked my mind out of its useless wanderings. I wouldn’t know how bad it was until we got there. We were only a few minutes away and there was no point in worrying about the damage until I saw it for myself.

  Four minutes later, I wished I hadn’t seen it. My cute little bungalow was engulfed in flames. They were stronger by the kitchen, but had spread to every part of the structure I could see. Tears blurred my eyes. Dylan parked the car on the opposite side of the street, three houses down, away from the confusion of fire trucks and flashing lights. He was opening my door a few seconds later.

  Axel was on his way to us by the time we were walking toward the house. He met us in the middle of the street, putting out a hand to prevent us from going any further.

  “They’ve blocked the street from the other side,” he said, “We can wait here. They’ll need to talk to you, Leigha.”

  “What do you know?” Dylan asked, taking my hand and pulling me close to his side.

  I leaned into him, needing his strength. My eyes were riveted to the flames shooting through the roof of my little house. I didn’t need to ask, I already knew it was a total loss. My heart squeezed with grief, and my stomach rolled from the acrid scent of my life burning to the ground.

  I’d never been particularly materialistic. Maybe it was the accountant in me, always saving money instead of spending it on things I didn’t really need. But this wasn’t a new sweater or a big TV. It was my home. The first I’d ever bought and one I’d expected to have for years to come. It was the first place that was all mine, a haven where I’d felt free to be myself. I’d painted the walls myself, had chosen each pillow and curtain to fit my vision of a cozy refuge. Now it was well on its way to being a pile of ash.

  I was so distracted by the fire, I almost missed hearing the word, ‘arson’. My head popped up, and my mind came back into focus. Arson? I didn’t have to work hard to come up with the one person who might have burned down my house.

  “Are you sure?” I asked, interrupting Axel and Dylan’s quiet, intense conversation. Axel turned his sharp eyes to me.

  “There’s an empty gas can in the back yard. The police have it, hopefully he was stupid enough to leave prints. They could smell the gas he spilled on his way in. They’ll have to complete their investigation, but that this point they’re sure it’s arson.”

  Dark rage welled in my chest. My brain was screaming, ‘why?’. It was a stupid question. There was never a ‘why’ for something like this. Steven was a stupid, greedy asshole, and I’d been naive and blind enough to let him into my life. My breath came in choppy waves, my lungs tight with emotion and the caustic smoke clouding the air. Dylan turned me into his chest. Over my head, I heard him say,

  “We fucked up. We should have taken him in last night.”

  “Not your call, man. This is on me,” Axel responded, his voice heavy with regret.

  “No. You knew what I would have said, and you did it. Fuck.”

  Dylan rubbed a hand over my back, I think soothing himself as much as me. He was right, if Axel had called the police the night before, Steven would probably be in jail right now instead of running free and torching houses. I didn’t have it in me to be pissed at them. Maybe later. Just then I was too grateful for Dylan’s arms around me to be mad at him.

  “Any idea how he got away from Tsepov?”

  “No. I called a guy I know who’s in with Tsepov, but he’s not talking. I did get the feeling that Steven will be lucky if the cops pick him up before Tse
pov does.”

  “Do they need her for anything? I need to take her home,” Dylan asked.

  “No, take her home. I let the lieutenant know she was on her way, but he won’t be able to get to her for a while. He can talk to her later. She’ll be with you?”

  “Yes. Just give him my number and we’ll make ourselves available.”

  “She up for pressing charges about last night? I gave his name as the likely suspect - I told the lieutenant I was working security for her as a client’s girlfriend and gave him what we know about Steven - but this will all go faster if she makes a statement herself. They can’t hold him on anything related to last night without Leigha,” Axel said.

  Reminded that they were talking about me, and I could speak for myself, I lifted my head from where I’d burrowed into Dylan’s chest and said, “Let’s go now, before it gets too late. I have to start getting ready for Christy’s wedding in a few hours.”

  “I think your Mom would understand if you missed the wedding, sweetheart,” Dylan said, looking down to meet my eyes.

  “I’m not missing the wedding. And I want to press charges against that asshole.”

  “We’re leaving,” Dylan said to Axel, turning us to face his car. He kept me tucked into his side as we walked away from the mess of firetrucks. Behind us, Axel called out,

  “Leigha!”

  I ducked under Dylan’s arm and faced Axel. His handsome face was dark with remorse.

  “I’m sorry,” he said. “I thought I was doing the right thing.”

  I shrugged, not sure what to say. He hadn’t acted out of malice; he’d been looking out for what Dylan would want. It was hard to fault him for trying to be a good friend even though his decision had played a part in Steven setting my house on fire. Without a good response, I settled for raising my hand in a wave. Axel nodded his head and disappeared back into the smoky crowd of firefighters working to contain the blaze before it could spread to the other houses.

  Dylan was opening my door when I heard my name shouted across the street. I turned to see Mrs. Carmody bearing down on me, her teacup terrier, Jimmy, tucked into the crook of her arm. Short, scrawny, and tanned a deep, nut brown, she vibrated with energy. It wasn’t the crisis, Mrs. Carmody was a live wire all the time. If she was awake, she was on the go.

  “Where have you been? And who is this?” She narrowed her eyes at Dylan, her gaze as suspicious as if he’d been holding a Molotov cocktail and a match.

  “This is Dylan Kane,” I said, stepping a few inches away from Dylan. “He’s… we’re… I’ve been with him.”

  Dylan offered Mrs. Carmody his hand. She took it, but barely spared him a glance.

  “I thought you were home,” she said flatly. “I couldn’t get in the back door. I thought you were caught in there until the firefighters told me the house was empty.”

  She didn’t sound concerned, but after a few years of living next door to her, I knew that she was hiding her true feelings. If she’d chased me down in the street, she must have been terribly worried. Knowing she would hate it, but not sure how else to reassure her, I leaned down and pulled her into a hug. She leaned into me for a single breath. Yep, I’d scared her. Guilt welled even though it wasn’t my fault.

  “I’m so sorry, Mrs. Carmody. Do you remember Steven? My ex-boyfriend?” She nodded, her eyes shifting harder with dislike. I went on. “He attacked me last night and stole my car. I had to take a cab to the hospital for this.” I lifted my bandaged arm. “Dylan took me home with him and I only just found out about the fire.”

  “And the one in the suit? Why did he say he was working for you?” Mrs. Carmody gestured toward the firetrucks in front of my house where Axel had disappeared. She had ears like a bat and hated missing out. I wasn’t surprised she knew so much of what was going on.

  “He works for Dylan in security. He was helping with Steven.” Not a great explanation, but I wasn’t sure what else to say. Mrs. Carmody sniffed as if smelling something revolting.

  “I never liked him. He kept parking with his back tire on my lawn. You think he came back and did this?” I nodded. “And what about him?” She gestured to Dylan. “How does he fit into this? I would have noticed that car in your driveway, young lady. Are you spending the night with a man you just met?”

  I flushed a fiery hot red. I didn’t know how I could let Dylan display me naked in front of the room service waiter and still managed to blush in front of Mrs. Carmody. I looked up at Dylan in helpless embarrassment. He aimed his most charming smile at Mrs. Carmody and stepped in to save me.

  “Leigha and I are dating. I would have said you’d be seeing my car in front of her house more often, but given what’s happened, I think she’ll be staying with me.”

  “And where do you live?” she asked, studying him with still suspicious eyes. With a straight face, he said,

  “I live at the Delecta.”

  “You’re not taking Leigha off to live in a casino. She’s a good girl. And she doesn’t need to get tied up with another loser who gambles too much.”

  I giggled. I couldn’t help it. Mrs. Carmody met her cronies somewhere on the strip every Wednesday night for a buffet and a night of playing the slots. She spent far more time in casinos than I did.

  “I don’t gamble, Mrs. Carmody,” Dylan told her. She drew in a breath, probably to protest, when I jumped in.

  “He lives at the Delecta because he owns it,” I said. A light came into her eyes, and I inwardly groaned.

  “So you can take care of her?” she asked Dylan, ignoring my second, vocal groan. Dylan, still completely serious, nodded.

  “I can. She won’t have to worry about anything.”

  “Good. Make sure she has some fun. The girl works too much, never gets out to have a good time.”

  I rolled my eyes to the sky, partly embarrassed and partly touched. Dylan, apparently ready to get going, turned the conversation to business.

  “Are you taken care of? Did they tell you to evacuate?” he asked, pulling out his phone. She eyed his phone, but nodded.

  “I’m fine. Myrtle is coming by to pick me up. I’ll stay with her until this is cleaned up.”

  Dylan slipped his phone back into his pocket and wrapped his arm around me once more. “If you’ll excuse us, Leigha needs to get ready for her sister’s wedding, and we’re stopping at the police station first so she can press charges.”

  “Go,” she said, stepping back to clear our way with regal forbearance. “I’ll expect a dinner invitation by the end of the week.”

  “You’ll have it,” Dylan said over shoulder, steering me back to the car.

  “You’ll regret that later,” I said, thinking of Mrs. Carmody and her yappy little dog in Dylan’s elegant penthouse.

  “No, I won’t,” he said, his voice tight. Glancing up at him, I realized that despite his easy manner with my neighbor, and his gentleness with me, he was pissed off.

  I gave Mrs. Carmody a wave over my shoulder, making an effort to avoid the view of my burning house. From the corner of my eye, I saw that the firefighters seemed to be getting it under control. I hoped it didn’t set any of the other houses on fire. My own stuff had to be a loss; what hadn’t burned would be too smoke damaged to salvage. No matter how fast they put out the rest of the fire, it wouldn’t save anything. Suddenly exhausted, I sat back in the plush leather seat, wishing I had time to lay down and take a nap. Dylan slid into the driver’s seat and took my hand before he started the car, and we left my latest disaster behind.

  6

  Dylan

  Leigha looked so fragile, her eyes closed, lashes dark against her pale cheeks. This was my fault. I’d meant what I’d said to Axel. He’d made the decision not to have Steven arrested on his own, true. But if he’d called me, I would have told him to do exactly the same thing. Vermin like Steven always had enough for bail. A few hours in prison wasn’t enough of a price to pay for hurting Leigha.

  I hated the idea that my vengeance had left him free t
o take even more from her than he already had. If I’d had him arrested he might have done the same thing as soon as he was out on bail. Or maybe a few hours in jail would have convinced him to stay off the radar. I’d never know.

  How the fuck had he managed to get away from Tsepov? I knew one thing - unless Tsepov had let him go, Steven would be in deep shit when the Russian tracked him down again. My business stayed on the clean and legal side, but I knew what went on in my city, and Axel kept me filled in. His work took him to the dark sides of Vegas more often than he liked. So I knew that Tsepov was not a man to cross. Ever. If Steven hadn’t already gotten out of town, he’d be royally fucked. I couldn’t think of anyone who deserved it more.

  The next few hours passed in a blur. Leigha looked like she was held together by a thin thread. She gave her statement to the police clearly and with more detail than she’d told me. I didn’t lose it when she described his cutting her with the knife or touching her breast, but I wanted to. Instead, I sat beside Leigha, her hand in mine, feeling the fine tremble as she spoke in a steady, quiet voice. I’d made this hard enough for her, I wasn’t going to make it worse.

  I brought her home in time for a late lunch in my penthouse. Hard to believe it was only mid-afternoon. She ate a tuna melt with absent attention. I took in the faint purple bruises under her eyes, the slump of her shoulders, and bumped back the hair and make-up appointment a half an hour. She needed rest more than she needed an elaborate hair style.

  Leigha resisted only a little when I carried her to the bedroom and stripped off her shirt and jeans. I tucked her into the bed and climbed in behind her, wrapping my arm around her waist.

  “Just close your eyes for a little while,” I said. “You’ll feel better.”

  “I can’t sleep, Dylan. There’s too much in my head.”