“If you were someone who wanted to keep an eye on her. Where would you place a camera?” I ask arching an eyebrow,
“The bedroom,” they both answer in unison.
That thought sickens me but it is the most plausible place. “Then that’s where we’ll start.”
We take every single thing apart. The bed. The mattresses, dressers. The TV and pictures off the wall. Anything that’s in there, we remove it from the room. Hours later I’m pissed and relieved that nothing’s been found.
“Could the guy have even been in here?” Tate asks looking around.
“Yeah. When I woke up she was already up and in the office. I ran into her in the hallway and then I pushed her back into the office. They had time to come in here,” I assure them.
“Did you check the window sills?” Parker asks nodding to them.
“Yes,” Tate answers.
I place my hands on my hips and continue to look around at the now empty room. “Maybe we were wrong…”
“Guys,” Parker says getting our attention.
I look at him, and he motions to the ceiling above us. “What?” I ask looking at the white ceiling.
“The ceiling fan,” Parker says, and my eyes slam to it.
“We can’t reach it,” Tate says. “The ceiling’s too high. They wouldn’t be able to place anything up there.”
I look from the ceiling down to the floor. He does have a point. But if the bed was back where it belonged… Could someone?
I walk out of the bedroom to my office and then make my way back to the bedroom once I get what I needed.
They both take a step back when I walk in with the baseball bat. I swing it upwards hitting the ceiling fan. It takes several times before pieces of it start to fall, and we spot the one thing we’ve been looking for. There attached to the base of the ceiling fan is a little camera of some sort. No bigger than my pinkie. Can’t fucking believe it!
“Could there be more?” Parker asks fisting his hands down by his sides having a problem controlling his own temper.
“I know he was in the kitchen because he had broken a vase of hers.” How fucking stupid was I? Nothing was stolen my ass! Our privacy was stolen.
I tighten my hand around the bat and speak. “Let’s go see.” I’m in the mood to do some more swinging.
*****
I sip on a glass of scotch as I sit in my parent’s living room. The lights are off and the room is silent, but my mind is thinking a hundred miles an hour. So loud, it’s actually giving me a headache.
Three. We found three devices. Two were for whoever to listen to conversations. One in the kitchen and one in my office. The one for the bedroom was for recording. And it makes me literally sick to my stomach to know that someone has seen her in such a vulnerable position.
I blink when the lights come on
“What are you in here doing?” my father asks with a questioning tone as he comes to stand in front of me.
“Thinking,” I answer dryly.
“About?” He arches an eyebrow.
I lower my glass and set it on my knee. “I’ve spent all this time keeping the ones who are guilty out of jail; no punishment whatsoever. Then, someone comes and tries to take my family and what do I do? I play God and punish them however I see fit.” I made Jax pay. Jeremy got what he deserved. When I find White I will fucking kill him. Slowly.
He stands there looking down at me for a few long seconds before he walks over to his liquor cabinet, pouring himself a drink as well. “That’s understandable. I would do the same for your mother or you boys.”
I shake my head. “If you ask Parker, he would say I’ve lost my mind.” I lift the tumbler and take a good sized gulp. “Maybe I did.” I no longer see things like I used to. All I see now is hatred and rage.
My dad walks over to the big window and pulls back the red curtains my mom had made to fit this room. He looks out the window as he speaks. “When was the last time Samantha saw you?”
It’s pathetic that I have to actually have think about it. I came straight to this room for a drink when I got here. Sometime this morning when they released her from the hospital. “This morning. I had stuff I had to do over at the house.” I take another drink wanting to feel the burn.
He sighs. “Put your revenge on hold, son. Quit sitting in this dark room while trying to think of ways to kill someone”
“But…”
“No buts.” He lets go of the curtains and they fall back into place. “There’s a cop car sitting outside.” Parker had called in Officer Brad after we found the first device in our bedroom. They ended up putting more detail on us now. And they are trying to see if they can track who had purchased the devices that were used in our house. “Your mother and I are here. The alarm is set. Go up there and be with your wife.”
I release a long breath. “I can’t let it go,” I say clenching my jaw.
“I’m not telling you to let it go. I’m telling you to wait, lay low. You have the rest of your life to make them pay. To plot your revenge,” he says casually.
“She’s not allowed to do anything but lay around in bed.” I stand quickly finding that rage that comes so easy these days. “I did that to her.”
He places his untouched drink on the end table. “No you didn’t. They did that to her.”
“Because of me.” I shake my head. “It was right in front of me the entire time. If I would have seen it, I could have prevented all of this.”
He sighs. “Maybe,” he says honestly.
I fall back into the seat and look down at my glass. “Do you ever think you made the wrong choice?” I ask quietly.
He answers quickly. “Marrying your mother? No,” he answers sounding shocked at my question.
I shake my head. “Your career.” I look up at him and if he does feel that way he doesn’t let on. “That used to be my life dream. Be just like you.” I smile a little. “Make you proud of what I could become.”
“I’ve always been proud of you, Son,” he says walking over to me.
I scoot over allowing him to sit down on the couch next to me. “I don’t know if I can do it anymore.” I look over at him. “I’ve only ever saw one side of this life. Now that I know what it can feel like to have someone ripped away from you...” I pause as I swallow the thickness in my throat. “All I think about is the man who I had once defended was one of the guys involved in hurting the woman I love,” I say letting out a long breath.
My father knows everything that has happened in full detail, and I know he feels just as responsible as I do.
He places his hand on my shoulder and speaks. “Your mother and I have always told you boys to follow your dreams.” He smiles. “My job as a parent is not to judge your choices in life. It is to love you with no boundaries, no expectations. And I will do just that—Love you for you and for what you want to be.”
I swallow the lump in my throat. “You’re young, Slade. You have a wife who loves you, and you have two loving parents who are here to help in any way we can.” He stands up and looks down at me.
And I nod my head. “I have to do this.” I clear my throat. “For my family. It’s the right thing to do.” This job is not part of my life anymore. I need to walk away.
He surprises me when he smiles. “I agree.” Then turns and walks out of the room.
I fall back into the chair and close my eyes tightly. I hate myself. I hate myself for the life I have led her down. She deserved so much better. Our child deserves better. I feel sorry for her, for falling in love with someone who keeps her at a distance when she needs me by her side.
Feeling a little more relieved now that I’ve made up my mind, I stand from the chair and make my way upstairs. It’s time to make a change.
Entering my old room, I stand in the dark bedroom as my eyes look over her while she lays in the bed. I still see her limp body lying lifeless in the middle of the street as Parker performs compressions on her. I still have this image of my life slipping awa
y no matter what I do. And that fucking scares me to death. It makes my heart ache every time.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
SAMANTHA
I try to open my heavy eyes. The room sways a little bit as I try to turn over. I’m so tired of lying in a bed. I’ll wake up and my leg will be numb or my shoulder hurts. I feel much better when I’m up and walking around or even sitting up in a chair.
Once I get turned onto my left side I open my eyes fully. I blink a few times when I see Slade propped up against the headboard with the laptop on his lap. His baby blue eyes are looking down at me, but they look guarded, cold even.
“Hi,” he says slowly.
“Hey.” I try to smile but it’s weak.
He frowns, and it breaks my heart. I don’t know what I did for him to be so distant. Something has snapped. I see the hatred he covers himself in, and I would give anything I can to take it away
I pull my eyes from his and look to the screen. He has California real estate pulled up. “What are you looking at?” I look back up to him.
His eyes go back to the screen and he speaks. “If you could live anywhere, where would you want to live?”
“Uh,” what kind of question is that?
“You love snow,” he states. “Would you want to live in New York? They have some crazy winters.”
I frown. “You hate cold weather.”
“True,” he says keeping his eyes on the screen. “How about California?” He types in a few things. “You could get a convertible. It’s always hot out there.”
What is he talking about? A convertible? That is not a car for a baby. “Are you going through a midlife crisis?” I don’t think I can handle that right now.
He turns his head and looks down at me. “No.” He sighs before he closes the laptop. “I just figured you would want to move away. Put all of this behind us.”
I frown. “Put what behind us?” I ask slowly.
His body stiffens and he lets out a breath as if agitated. “This life. This mess.”
I try not to notice the lump that forms in my throat. “What are you running away from, Slade?”
He sits up and throws the covers off of him before he stands, expressing the anger that always seems to be there now. “I just want us…”
“Why did you lie to me and blame us not returning home on termites? We said we weren’t going to lie anymore,” I interrupt him.
He looks down at me, and his eyes narrow. “Please don’t ask me that question. I’m never going to answer it,” he says so matter-of-fact.
I shake my head. “No, you will tell me,” I demand and his nostrils flare. I’m not going to let him intimidate me. “I’m your wife, Slade. I deserve to know why we can’t return home.”
He runs a hand through his hair and lets out a curse. He’s quiet for a few seconds as if he’s trying to decide what to tell me. “Tate found a tracking device in the truck he suspected there were also devices in our house.”
“What?” I ask in horror. “Tracking device…”
He places a hand up and then continues, “He and Parker met me there yesterday, and we found three. All listening devices.”
I frown. “Why would someone want to listen to our conversations?” I ask.
He shrugs. “They could be to hear what cases I’m on.”
“You never talk about work.” He never tells me anything when it comes to the firm.
“I was when I was home taking care of you,” he offers, and I nod still trying to figure out what’s going on.
After a few silent seconds I lie back and get comfortable. “Nowhere,” I say looking up to the ceiling. “I wouldn’t move anywhere.” I place my hand on my growing stomach. “All my family and friends are here. I want our child to grow up around their cousins.” For the first time in a long time his eyes looks soft and somewhat sad. “I don’t want to run, Slade. I want to stay and fight. Whatever problems we have, we can work through them. Whatever I’ve done to make you so mad, running away is not our answer.”
He’s on the bed and by side in a matter of seconds. “You think I’m mad at you?” he asks. “I love you, Angel.”
“I know that. But…you’ve been acting so different since the accident. You’re so angry and secretive now.”
“I’m so sorry.” His strong voice is sincere. “I’m so sorry. I’ve let you down.”
“You haven’t let me down.”
“I failed at protecting you.” He runs his fingers down the side of my face, and I lean into that embrace. Closing my eyes I feel that soft touch that I’ve been missing.
After a few seconds he speaks. “We will stay here. Let’s look for a place to live.”
I frown. “What about our house?” Why is he so hell bent on moving? Didn’t they remove the devices they found? Maybe he’s afraid there could still be more?
He pauses for a long moment and looks down at me with his soft baby blue eyes. “I’ve done some remodeling.” Then he looks away. “I don’t think you will approve of it.”
Remodeling? “Why? What did you do?”
He shrugs carelessly. “I took a baseball bat to the living room and kitchen.” He smiles and it looks half evil half amused. “Oh and our bedroom.”
Hmm yeah that doesn’t sound like a good thing. I’m glad I missed all that action.
*****
After that talk, Slade was on a mission to find us a new place to live. We came to the conclusion that we wanted to build a house. Within weeks we found five acres, which was only ten minutes from Vivian and Mark’s house, and Slade already has workers clearing off the property for us to build our dream home. Since I haven’t been able to do much more than lay in bed, we have been going through magazines looking at designs for what we want to build.
It’s early in the morning, and I wake to him on his phone. “No, I want it done sooner,” he demands.
I squint and slowly turn over onto my side to look at him.
“Listen,” he growls. “My wife is expecting our child in December. Now I want our house finished and us living in it when that happens,” he snaps.
I can’t help but smile.
“You think that fucking matters?” he snaps. “You just get it done. And make sure to warn your crew that as of tomorrow my ass will be up there every day to make sure you guys are getting shit done.” He hangs up his phone and runs a hand through his hair.
“It’s okay, Slade,” I say and he turns to look at me. “We can rent a house in the meantime,” I offer.
He shakes his head releasing a sigh. “I want our baby to come home to our house, not some rental house.”
“Can anyone even build a house within six months?” I ask curious. It seems like it would take more like nine months or even a year.
“Of course.” He waves my concern off. “Plus, they have unlimited funds. With that they should be able to do it in four,” he growls.
I place my hands on the bed as I start to push myself up. I have got to take a shower, I’m pretty sure I’m starting to smell.
“What are you doing?” he asks running over to my side, grabbing my arm.
“I wanna take a shower,” I say trying to stand up on my feet.
“You need to tell me when you want to get up, and I will help you.”
I roll my eyes. “Slade, I’m fine, or they wouldn’t have let me leave the hospital.” I’m still very sore all over and my left shoulder throbs at time. I went for a checkup yesterday, and they said it was probably from the seatbelt tightening. I still have the bruise across my chest from that one.
He leads me into the bathroom and reaches down to pull off his oversize t-shirt that I’m wearing.
“Oww,” I whine when I try lifting my left arm.
He curses then walks out of the bathroom leaving me standing here with one arm free. I try to move my body so I can get it up and over but a sharp pain shoots down my arm so painful that my breath catches.
I place my other hand on the counter and try taking a few deep bre
aths.
“What happened?” he questions looking down at me.
“I tried to get my arm free.”
He frowns and then grabs the shirt. Before I know what he’s doing he cuts it right down the middle with a pair of scissors.
“Why did you do that? I loved that shirt,” I say frowning.
“I’ll buy you another one.” He waves it off.
He turns on the water and when it gets to the temperature I want, he helps me into it.
He sits on the lid of the toilet as I shower. I refuse to have him wash me or my hair, I need to try to do things myself. My biggest fear is that I won’t be back to myself before the baby arrives. Then what? I can’t expect Slade to do everything for the both of us.
It takes me longer than it normally would but I enjoy the water before I turn it off. He grabs a towel and helps me out before he wraps a towel around me. “Slade?” I ask as he helps dry off my back.
“Hmm?” he mumbles as his eyes roam over my body.
“Why haven’t you gone back to work?” He always does this. Every time something happens to me, he works from home. But this time is different. I’ve heard his phone conversations with his father and Braxton. He keeps passing cases off, and it’s worrying me. It’s been two weeks, when is he going to go back?
I look up in the mirror to see him standing behind me just looking at me with an expressionless look on his face.
He licks his lips and then straightens his shoulders. “I quit my job,” he states calmly.
I spin around quickly and get tangled up in the towel. I start to fall and he catches me but not before I hit my side on the countertop.
“Fuck,” he hisses. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I stare up at him ignoring the pain in my side. “I could ask you that same question,” I snap looking at him wide-eyed.
He goes to release me, and I grab his arms, the towel falling to the ground. “Slade, you love your job. Why would you quit?” I search his face frantically, waiting for him to say ‘surprise’ or ‘April’s fool’s’…anything.
He just shakes his head and pulls away from me. I reach out and grab his arm again. I’m not going to let this go. “Please tell me you didn’t do this for me?” I beg.
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