The Maxwell Series Boxed Set: Books 1-3

by Alexander, S. B.

  “Don’t anyone move,” Dad ordered in a lethal tone that I hadn’t heard in years, before he chased after my mom. The last time he was this pissed was right after Kody and Kross had beaten Greg Sullivan, Kade’s nemesis, into a coma.

  “I’m sorry. Did I say something wrong?” Lacey set down her fork.

  “You’re still not sharing things with your girl?” I asked Kade through clenched teeth. Damn brother always seemed to keep things from Lacey. Which always got him into trouble.

  “Until you walk in my shoes, shut the fuck up,” Kade barked.

  I hoped to never walk in his shoes. He worried constantly. He frequently got migraines. He was protective as hell. I swore he would develop an ulcer before he hit twenty-five.

  Kody sat back in his chair. “Is Lizzie Reardon in Boston?” His voice hitched.

  “Yes,” I said. “You were practicing on your guitar when our brothers were about to cut off my nuts earlier.”

  “Would someone tell me what’s going on?” Lacey demanded. She was worrying her bottom lip.

  “Lizzie Reardon is the sister to the girl who shot Karen.” Kross glared at me.

  “And the girl who broke Kelton’s heart at thirteen,” Kody added.

  “What!” Lacey slapped Kade on the arm. “Why didn’t you tell me?” She covered her mouth with her hand. “Oh my God! Your mom? I should go apologize.” Lacey started to stand.

  Kade grabbed her wrist. “Let my father handle this.” The color drained from his face.

  Years of healing had probably just gone down the drain. But I prayed it hadn’t. No sooner than we’d had a chance to process what was happening, my dad entered, scratching his chin, trying to hold in the anger that was evident by the hard look he nailed on all of us.

  “Everyone out except Kelton. And Kade, please sit with your mother.” His voice was taut. “She’s in her bedroom.”

  They scrambled to their feet and left.

  Silence filled every nook and cranny in the dining room as my old man began to pace across from me. I thought of many things to say but none that would ease the rage flowing through him. He had to calm down first before he would even listen.

  “Is Mom okay?” I held my breath.

  He heaved a loud sigh, sat down, put his face in his hands then ran them through his graying brown hair. As he lifted his head, his body slumped, and he blew out all the air in his lungs. “I don’t know. But three years, and all could be lost with one question.” His voice wobbled. “Now, tell me what the fuck is going on? Are you seeing Lizzie?”

  “No, sir. I did, however, talk to her.” No way was I lying to my old man.

  “Do you plan on seeing her?” He stuck out his chin.

  My father and I hardly talked about women, although he’d asked me recently if I was serious about Chloe. I told him I wasn’t in love with her and she didn’t do it for me. He’d said I would know when the right one came along. In the meantime, he counseled me to be honest with Chloe. I shared with him that I’d been upfront with her from the very beginning.

  “Why does everyone think that I would fall for Lizzie again?”

  “You’re avoiding the question, son.”

  I chewed my lip. “It doesn’t matter if I do or I don’t. She has a boyfriend.”

  “Boyfriend or not. You two were inseparable as kids. I know how broken you were when she moved away. I would bet that you’ve thought about her many times over the years, and now that she’s here in Boston, I’m sure you’re curious. You probably have questions. And I’d suspect that your heart never really got over her.”

  Says the psychiatrist to his son. “I’m not going through the hurt and pain again. So don’t worry about Lizzie showing up here.”

  “Don’t live your life on the premise that all women will run from you. Remember it wasn’t Lizzie’s fault she moved away. Her father took another job.”

  I jerked my head back. “Are you saying you don’t mind if I see her?”

  “You’re an adult. I’m not about to tell you who to date and who not to date. However, Lizzie’s presence in our lives could be complicated, not only for your mother, but for all of us. Could you look at her and not be reminded of what happened to your sister?”

  When I look at Lizzie, I only see her beauty. I only know when I lay eyes on her my stomach goes haywire. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t plan on getting serious with her or any woman.”

  My dad smiled, albeit sadly. “You will find that special woman one day. And when you do, you’ll see the world in a whole new light.” His voice trailed off as though he was thinking of my mom.

  I was already beginning to see the world in a new light. One I wasn’t sure I wanted to see. Ten seconds of silence ensued before I said, “Lizzie said her father contacted you to check on us. But he never heard from you. How come you didn’t keep in contact with the Reardons?” Our family had had to heal, but so had the Reardons. Not to mention that the psychiatrist in my father would have wanted to know and help.

  He twisted a cloth napkin at the corners. “Our life got busy with your mom and our move from Texas to Massachusetts. It was a tough time for all of us.”

  I interlaced my fingers and set my hands on the table. “Do you blame them for what happened?” Over the years, our family had been concentrating on taking care of Mom and trying to get on with our lives.

  “Christ, no. If anything, I blame myself for not teaching Karen gun safety. Every day I kick myself for not allowing her to learn.” He lowered his gaze. “I just wanted my little girl playing with dolls, not guns.”

  “And Mom?” I wasn’t sure if he talked about that day with her, or if the topic was part of her therapy.

  “I’ve tried to broach the subject. I’ve even suggested to her psychiatrist to try, but every time she either changes the subject or drops into a deep depression for days. I don’t know how she’ll react if she continues hearing Lizzie’s name.” He was knotting the napkin.

  My dad was a strong individual. He was retired from the Special Forces, had fought in many military campaigns, and had led a team of soldiers. But when it came to Mom, the wall of strength he erected fell, and behind it was a man who worried about his family and the love of his life. Seeing him powerless and concerned only confirmed why I didn’t want to do love.

  “Dad?”

  His head came up slowly, his warm gaze urging me to continue.

  “I know you said Karen found the combination to the safe. I also know you try to protect us. But what if…?” I couldn’t bring myself to even ask. Kade had said I needed to talk to someone. I locked my shaking hands underneath my legs. “What if… it was my fault?” I tensed.

  He angled his head, his eyebrows bunching together. “What do you mean?”

  My heart rammed against my ribs. I shuddered. “For the last seven years I’ve been trying to remember if I was the one who left the gun safe unlocked.”

  His gaze darted back and forth over me as he continued to play with the napkin that was turning into one big knot. “Is that what you think?”

  I jumped out of the chair, my hands pulling my hair while my pulse pounded in my ears. “I don’t know. Lizzie walked into the garage that day as I was putting away the ammo. I got distracted. You trusted us. I’m so sorry.” I lowered my head, my eyes catching a glint off my butter knife. I was ready to use it on myself.

  The longer we didn’t speak, the quicker my heart sped up.

  He cleared his throat, but his voice still broke when he spoke. “Look at me, Kelton.”

  I glanced at him. My pulse was erratic. Beads of sweat coated my forehead.

  With soft eyes, he said, “You’re right. I do protect you boys at all costs. But if you had left the safe open, I would’ve confronted you immediately. I always checked behind you boys. I did that day after
you left the garage with Lizzie.”

  On shaky legs, I shuffled back to the wall, plastering myself against it. Then I covered my eyes with both my hands as I lost my shit. I hadn’t cried that hard since the funeral. For seven years I’d been carrying around the thought that I might have been responsible for my sister’s death, always afraid to broach the subject with anyone.

  Hands were tugging at my wrists. “Son, I promise. You didn’t leave the safe unlocked. I told you boys she’d found the combination in my office. You know she went to great lengths to get what she wanted.”

  That was true. We all did when we didn’t get what we wanted. I dropped my arms. “I need air.”

  My father pulled me in for a tight hug. “Why didn’t you tell me? All these years you kept this bottled up. Is this the reason you act weird around Karen’s anniversary?”

  I could only nod as he held me. Every year around the time of her death I became a recluse. I’d either lock myself in my room, disappear into the woods behind our house, or—once I was old enough to drive—head down to Cape Cod and sit on the beach.

  “You need to talk about your feelings more,” he said.

  I gently pushed away, wiping my eyes. “I’m good.” I was a fucking mess. Sure, I was relieved beyond belief that I hadn’t left the safe unlocked, but my mom could relapse. I couldn’t handle my family being broken again. And to put the cherry on top of my meltdown, I wanted a girl I couldn’t have and one my heart couldn’t handle. “I need to see Mom.”

  “Sure, but Kelton? Do me a favor? Try talking about what bothers you.”

  I’d rather punch walls or spar with Kross.

  “I love you, son.” Then he tapped my heart. “This should be reserved for the right woman,” he said with conviction. “Now, see how your mom is doing. I’ll be there in a minute.”

  I left with my head swimming in a sea of mixed emotions from worry over my mom, to relief that I hadn’t left the safe open, to his words of wisdom. Right now the only woman in my heart was my mom. She was everything to this family, and if she relapsed, it would rip all of us to shreds, especially my father. I couldn’t allow that to happen.

  Slipping past the kitchen where Kross, Kody, and Lacey were whispering, I wound my way down through the house, not knowing what to say or how to rewind time and change the past—or even the past two days. I should’ve told Kade on Friday night. I should’ve told him yesterday. It wasn’t Lacey’s fault. This was on me. If I hadn’t gone over to Dillon’s, then he wouldn’t have approached Kade.

  My parents’ bedroom was tucked away in its own wing. The door was cracked open. I poked my head in. Kade was sitting in one of the oversized chairs while my mom sat in a chaise longue. The seating area of the bedroom faced the French doors. It was pitch black outside, so it was hard to see anything.

  “Hey,” I said softly. “Can I come in?”

  Mom turned her head, her black hair shining from the soft glow of the floor lamp next to her.

  I padded in on the plush tan carpet and settled onto the edge of the chaise longue. Kade rose then kissed Mom on her forehead and left.

  She reached out and grabbed my hand. “Do you ever think of Gracie and how she’s doing?” she asked.

  I placed my free hand over hers, soft and fragile. “I do.” It was the truth. Of course, Lizzie had dominated my thoughts over the years, but I’d occasionally wondered about Gracie.

  “You know it’s supposed to snow again tonight. Maybe the angels will watch out for Gracie.”

  “I’m sure they will, Mom.” I hoped they did.

  “How is Elizabeth doing?” Sadness was stamped in her pretty blue eyes. “Have you seen her?” A lone tear escaped, trickling down her porcelain face.

  I was officially going to hell. A son should never make his mother cry. “Briefly. I guess she’s doing okay.” I wasn’t certain about that. The girl didn’t want to see me or talk to me.

  “I would like to see Gracie,” she said. “Is the family in Boston?” She withdrew her hand from mine then snagged a tissue from the box on the side table.

  My mind raced. My father had just mentioned Mom never wanted to talk about the Reardons. “I don’t know.” Lizzie was in town. But did that mean her family was too? “Let’s talk with Dad first.” This was a decision for my father to make, although if it helped for Mom to talk with Gracie, I was on board. Although that meant I would have to see Lizzie again, and that alone scared the fuck out of me.

  I bounced my knee as I sat in Mr. Davenport’s office, waiting on him to finish reading my résumé. He was poised behind his desk, pen in hand, the sleeves of his crisp white shirt rolled three quarters of the way up his arm. Every now and then he traced a chunky finger over his bushy gray eyebrow.

  I started to bounce my other knee as I fixated on Boston’s cloudy skyline. My nerves had been doing a number on me since Sunday. I hadn’t been able to think about much or focus, mainly because my old man had asked me to contact Lizzie. My mom had asked to see Gracie Reardon. My dad was elated. He’d been trying for years to bring up the Reardons with Mom. According to him, this was a huge step in the right direction for her, maybe for all of us. I wasn’t so sure about me. The more I saw Lizzie, the more her presence would tug at my heart, pulling and reeling a little at a time as though she was wrestling with a king mackerel. I was afraid I’d flop in the boat and confess my undying love, only for her to disappear.

  Mr. Davenport cleared his throat. “Why do you want to be a lawyer, Mr. Maxwell?” He sat back in his leather chair, pen still in hand.

  I squeezed my kneecaps to steady them. “To defend the innocent.” Ever since I’d begun watching the legal series Perry Mason with my mom, I’d wanted to be a lawyer.

  He cocked an eyebrow. “And what if your client isn’t innocent?”

  “I don’t plan on representing those who are not. If they’re guilty, they can find another attorney. Here at your law firm, don’t you choose who you represent?” The last sentence came out a little cockier than I wanted.

  He harrumphed as he studied me over his reading glasses. “Sometimes clients lie.”

  I lifted a shoulder. “If they do, then I drop them. I believe in the law. It’s there to protect people and to reprimand those who disobey it. Why would I want to defend someone who committed a murder? I’m not about making a name for myself like some attorneys who just want to be on television. I’m about protecting people, and since I don’t want to be a cop, I can at least protect their rights.” I didn’t exactly need to get a job at this law firm. However, I did want to make my old man proud.

  “I see you worked at Brady, Schlenk, and Schiel last summer, and you’re now working as a model for an art class. Elaborate on the modeling job.”

  “It pays well.” Mr. Brewer paid me a hundred dollars an hour to pose. He’d said I kept his classes full of students, which in turn was job security for him. “And it’s only two hours a week, which gives me time to concentrate on school.” My old man had said my modeling job might raise questions with Mr. Davenport.

  “My daughter Trudy tells me you pose naked?” His dark eyes were appraising.

  “With all due respect, Mr. Davenport, what does me posing naked have to do with a job in your law firm?” He probably didn’t like his not-so-innocent daughter ogling naked men in a prestigious learning institution.

  He sat forward, propping his elbows on the desk. “Mainly that I run a tight ship around here, and a clean one. I don’t need naked pictures of the summer intern floating around the office. Neither myself nor Human Resources would be pleased when complaints started rolling in.”

  “I can assure you, I won’t be passing them around.” I didn’t need the hassle—or women groping me. “And the pictures of me are tastefully done paintings. Mr. Brewer is also very strict about his rules regarding no camera or cell phone use d
uring class.” Brew had caught one student snapping a picture with her cell phone, and he kicked her out, but not before he’d deleted the picture.

  He fiddled with the expensive pen, the pressure building between us. “Have you ever been in trouble with the law? A police record?”

  A background check had been part of the application process, and as I’d stated then, I said, “No, sir.” Sure, I’d been in fights, but Kade had taken the blame. Or I’d gotten lucky. Like the time Kade, Hunt, and I had gotten into a brawl with Greg Sullivan and Aaron Seever. Thanks to Pitt’s relationship with BPD, we hadn’t been thrown in jail that night.

  “Good. We don’t hire anyone who’s on the wrong side of the law.”

  He went on to explain what he expected out of me if I were selected. Thirty minutes later I left, undoing my tie. I’d answered the questions truthfully, and I’d been polite and professional. From there it was a waiting game. Three candidates sat in the reception area. One was whiter than the handkerchief poking out of his suit pocket. I did want the job, but at that moment, my mind was elsewhere. My future was important, but not as important as my family.

  It was time to hunt down Lizzie, as my father had asked. I just had to restrain the feelings I had when I was around her.

  Chapter 10

  Lizzie

  I was surprised at how close the hostel was to Zach Malden’s place. Apparently he was living in an affluent part of Boston known as Beacon Hill. I gaped at the richness of the neighborhood. Townhomes in Louisburg Square listed upward of eleven million dollars, and the area was one of the most expensive neighborhoods in the USA, according to the Internet.

  I clenched my fists. If Zach Malden lived in one of those homes, his father had to be filthy rich. Hopefully my inheritance hadn’t contributed to the purchase of an elegant piece of property. Snow crunched beneath my boots with every step I took down the brick sidewalk. Maybe I would get lucky and Terrance would be home. I let out a nervous laugh. I was ready to threaten him into giving me my money back. The Taser Dillon had given me was secured in the backpack I had draped over my shoulder. I’d never threatened or harmed another human in my life. But as the cliché said, desperate times called for desperate measures.