Jaden

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Jaden Page 11

by Tijan


  I tugged on his hand again. “I don’t care.” I should’ve. But I didn’t. “Stay with me. I don’t want to be alone.”

  I didn’t want to be alone with Grace. As he gave in and crawled to lay behind me, I held onto him as he rested an arm over me. Corrigan was my shelter. He always had been. A part of me knew this was wrong. I shouldn’t be using him this way, but I needed someone with me. I had to.

  “Grace,” I whispered, closing my eyes, and settling farther down in the bed.

  “Mmm?” Corrigan lifted his head.

  “Nothing.” I cleared my throat. “Nothing.”

  But I felt her.

  I had a feeling she wasn’t going anywhere.

  CHAPTER TWELVE

  When I awoke, Corrigan wasn’t beside me. I frowned. The bed felt vacant, but I had slept with him for so many nights before, when I only wanted to be held and comforted.

  Knock, knock.

  I lifted my head at the door. That’s what had awoken me.

  Knock, knock.

  It came again. Sitting up in bed, I gazed around, saw the darkness outside the window and wondered how long I had been sleeping.

  “Sheldon?”

  It was Bryce. Hurrying to the door, I opened it, but looked around behind me. Was Corrigan in the bathroom? Should it matter? But it did. Bryce had lifted his hand for another knock. He lowered it, his eyes penetrating mine as he asked, so soft and so damn tenderly, “You okay?”

  Normally I would lie. “No.” I didn’t this time.

  He nodded, his face clouded with concern and wariness. He cleared his throat. “Is Corrigan with you?”

  My eyes flung back to him. He knew. I swallowed back a small amount of guilt, raking my fingers through my hair. “He was. I—” How did I put this? How could I explain it? “I needed someone and—”

  Bryce nodded, finishing for me, “I know.”

  I hadn’t asked for him. That unspoken message seemed to hang between us, and I felt how heavy the atmosphere turned. Shit. I caught the hurt in his eyes. I reached out, again not thinking, and touched his arm. He didn’t move back, but he didn’t take my hand in his. I hadn’t wanted him to. I just wanted to reassure him. So I said, “Corrigan’s been there for me. You know this. After Marcus—” I stumbled on my words. My cheeks flushed. What was wrong with me?

  “Sheldon,” Bryce squeezed my hand, lifting it from his arm, but he let it go. It fell back to my side. “I understand. I really do.”

  Did he? He didn’t think he was needed. I read that thought and surged across the space between us, or I started to. I stopped. Fear slammed me back.

  I was scared of reaching out to Bryce. I was scared of comforting him, of telling him . . . what? I had no idea. I finally just admitted, “I want to come to you. I do, but my feelings are locked inside me. Corrigan’s always been there for me. I’m not saying you haven’t, except about Guadalupe, but that’s partly me. I pushed you away. I left you for him. Screwing another girl, I can’t really get mad at you for that, but . . .”

  “Sheldon,” he started again, pointing down the hallway.

  “I’m sorry.” I needed to feel vulnerable. I needed to peel open my doors and let whatever happened happen, but that’s what I was fighting against. Not Bryce. Just whatever would happen when I did that.

  I didn’t want to feel vulnerable. That’s all I was now.

  “Hey.” He stepped closer. His tone turned soothing and he cupped the side of my face. His thumb rested on my cheek, and a tender smile looked back down at me.

  God. My chest filled. The tenderness there was loving. My pulse started to pick up, and I was struggling to stand still. I felt my knees starting to knock against each other. His hand was holding me in place. My entire body snapped to attention at that small touch from him. Without thinking or realizing, I lifted a hand to rest over his own, but his words were a slap to me.

  “The police are here.”

  “Oh.” My hand thumped back to my side, and I retreated back to my room, moving from his shelter. I looked, as if they would be coming up the hallway, coming to arrest me once again. “Where?”

  “At the front door. The hotel thing. They’re pissed.”

  “Why? I didn’t violate anything.”

  He lifted a shoulder, frowning darkly. “Who knows, but they’re here, and they’re pissed. I guess your dad was supposed to have informed them when we left his house and came here, but he didn’t.”

  Police were a pain in my ass on a normal day. Pissed police were going to be a fucking hangover that could never be nursed away.

  I groaned, my faculties quickly coming back to me. I needed to fight. Get it together, Sheldon. I needed to be clear, calm, and rational when I went down there. They were the enemy now. I’d have to fight. I always had to fight.

  “Okay. I’m ready.”

  “You sure?”

  I nodded. “Let’s go.” I gritted my teeth. Bryce started forward, and I followed, shutting my door. As we went downstairs and back to the front entrance, déjà vu came over me. I’d just been there. The same group had been there, with the same concerned and angry expressions. Skimming a quick eye over them, there was no Mena this time. The two detectives who had interrogated me had hostile looks on their faces.

  Okay.

  I stopped and turned toward them. “Defectives.” It was game on.

  The woman rolled her eyes, then rested her hands on her hips. The ends of her suit jacket were pushed back from the motion, her badge and gun were clipped to her hip. She wore a buttoned-down shirt, tucked inside her jeans that showed off her trim figure. She didn’t look the hostile mess she’d been at the police station. Her hair had been in a messy bun, the ends loose, but this time her hair was swept into a pristine-looking bun, clipped at the base of her skull. She looked the epitome of a professional, then I caught the sideways glance at Denton, and her lips pressed together for a split second.

  “Denton Steele was a witness as well.” She sighed. “I’d like to get his witness testimony.”

  Her words came back to me from the interrogation room. I had thought it was a manipulation to get me to talk, but maybe not. As her gaze lingered on the movie star, she pressed her hand against the side of her head, making sure her hair was in place.

  I grunted. A smart-ass comment was on the tip of my tongue, but I caught Bryce’s look. His eyebrows shot up and the message was received. He had caught the look too and he was right, I swallowed my comment.

  Her eyes narrowed, then when I kept my mouth shut, she said, “We’re not here for a fight, but we are here for some extra measures.”

  “Extra measures?” My dad materialized from behind me. As he moved in front of me, he held Beth’s hand in his behind his back. She paused next to me and glanced sideways at me. My dad cleared his throat. “What are you talking about?”

  Officer Molls shifted so she was facing my dad squarely. “Your daughter was supposed to notify of us of her whereabouts.”

  “She did.” My dad amended, “My lawyers did when they posted her bail, and we notified you about why we moved to this home.”

  “Yeah. They did.” The female detective shifted so she could see me around him. “But Sheldon’s not a normal suspect. She’s out, but pending house arrest.”

  “This is ridiculous. She’s not been found guilty ye—” Neil bit back what he’d been about to say.

  Yet.

  She’s not been found guilty yet. That’s what he’d been about to say. At that understanding, I moved back a step. My dad thought I was guilty. I crossed my arms over my chest. That meant he thought I had done it—I had killed Grace.

  My throat burned.

  My own father didn’t believe in me.

  Bryce stepped close to me. He didn’t reach out and touch me, but the back of my elbow rested against his chest. It was his way of being there for me and I closed my eyes, feeling him move in even more. I drew in his strength.

  Corrigan came to my other side. They were both flanking me
, showing their support for me, then we heard Denton speak. All three of us looked at the same time.

  Denton said, “What do you mean ‘pending house arrest,’ officer?” He moved closer, cutting off my dad as he’d been about to speak again, and as I watched him, Denton transformed into his movie star persona. His eyes squinted slightly, becoming darker and beckoning. His head lifted so it was at a seductive slant, and the corners of his mouth curved up in an alluring grin.

  In that one second, he had gone from my childhood neighbor to the guy who graced billboards all across the nation.

  And it worked.

  Detective Molls’ chest rose and held still. Her eyes widened and her lips parted. Then her cheeks reddened and her hand lifted back up to flatten her hair against her head. It stayed there, as if holding the side of her head and she seemed paralyzed, gazing into Denton’s eyes for a moment.

  “Molls,” her partner rasped out. He snapped his fingers, drawing his partner’s attention back to the room.

  “What?” She jerked backward, breaking her gaze from Denton to look around the group. Her voice was hoarse. “Huh?”

  Denton’s grin grew, becoming even more mesmerizing.

  Her gaze skirted back to him and she swallowed. “Um.” Her hand fell back to her side, flattening over her badge.

  I narrowed my eyes, wondering if that was a nervous tick. She touched her badge when she was nervous? No. She was still looking at Denton, like she couldn’t turn away. She was off-balance. She was star struck; that’s what she was. He had stripped away her control.

  “Get ahold of yourself, Molls.” Her partner moved so he was standing in front of her, addressing the group. The same no-nonsense attitude he had at the police station was with him again. His eyes snapped to mine and he narrowed them, lifting a package that he’d been holding in his hand. “You get an ankle monitor, Princess.”

  I started to surge forward. To be honest, I wasn’t sure which pissed me off first. The babysitting bracelet or the fact he called me Princess. I snarled. I’d show him a princess, and my hand formed into a fist, lifting to swing.

  “Oh whoa.” Bryce grabbed me by the hip and pulled me backward.

  “Shit.” Corrigan saw it, too.

  Both of them came together in front of me, like two ends of a curtain closing in one brisk movement.

  “What?”

  Bryce spoke loudly, “How does that work?”

  “This?”

  “The ankle monitor, yes.” Bryce’s elbow nudged Corrigan.

  “Yeah,” Corrigan added. “Like does she only have so many feet to go or what? You said she’s under house arrest. Is that legal? She’s not been convicted. Isn’t that when that punishment happens?”

  The male detective’s voice was strained, tense. “Not that I have to explain the actions of our judicial system, but she’s not technically under house arrest. She will,” his voice grew clearer, and I could tell he was moving toward me, “need to wear this so we know where she is at all times.”

  Bryce and Corrigan held firm.

  The guy stopped right in front of them, then he said in a low warning, “Move aside, gentlemen.”

  “It’s fine, you guys.” I touched both of them on the back. They moved aside, but only after another moment of standing guard for me.

  As they did, the male detective raked a hard eye over me before he knelt at my feet. I lifted my pant leg, and he put the ankle monitor on me. Just like that, no big fuss, and I was tagged like an animal. I glanced down, lifting my ankle so I could see it better.

  I was a walking GPS alert now. This was awesome. I groaned. “Can I shower with this thing?”

  “Nope.” He hoisted himself back up. There was no sympathy on his face at all. “Stick the leg out and wrap it with a bag if you don’t want to get electrocuted or have the police department at your house. There are no alerts set if you wander out of the house. You can go about as much as you want, which I doubt is much since everyone and their long-lost aunt knows you’re The Queen Bee Killer, but whatever rocks your boat. Just know we can always find you now.” He smiled a very nice fuck-off sort of smile, and he winked. “Have a good day, now.”

  Sliding past Bryce and Corrigan, he gave them both a once-over, then looked to Denton. He was thinking something. I could see it on his face, but all he did was grunt and shake his head. Then he murmured, back at the door, “Come on, Molls. I’ve got a handkerchief in the car for your drool.”

  She sucked her breath in, it was such a slight sound that it was barely heard, and she hurried after him. Her voice carried back to us as she said, “I wasn’t—”

  Corrigan burst out, “Who the fuck cares?” And took two steps to close the door, letting it slam shut by itself. He gave it a mock salute and then flipped his hand around so his middle finger was extended. “Good day to you, police dicks.”

  “Well.” My dad looked around, his eyebrows raised high. “That was . . . unexpected.”

  My scowl deepened. “I can’t shower. ‘Unexpected’ is not a term I would use to describe this visit.”

  “Fuckheads.” Corrigan slid his hands into his pockets, hunching his shoulders. “That’s the term I would use.”

  My dad sighed. “Well, I can’t say that I’m not a little grateful. Sheldon, with that monitor, if there are any more murders, they’ll know where you were or where you weren’t. This could help in the case.”

  “That’s lovely.” I gave him two thumbs-up. “Here’s hoping someone else will die now.”

  “Sheldon,” he said quietly.

  Beth spoke over him, resting her hand on his arm, “Your father’s just worried. That’s all.” Giving his arm a squeeze, she held her chin high, and left for the kitchen. As she did, the back of her silk robe swayed back and forth behind her. Then I noticed the rest. They were all in their pajamas, somewhat.

  Corrigan was wearing grey sweats and a plain white shirt. Bryce had on black sport pants and a grey shirt, while the movie star had on oversized blue scrub pants . . . and no shirt. I wolf-whistled. “I must be really out of it not to notice that.”

  His eyebrows bunched together. “Notice what?”

  I waved a hand up and down. “It’s a Monet of muscles, the six-pack, pectorals, it’s just . . .” I pretended to kiss the air. “A masterpiece.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Nothing you haven’t seen.” He smirked. “Twice.”

  I shot back, “I don’t remember any clothing being taken off for the second round.” Then I winced and realized the stoic expressions on both Bryce and Corrigan’s face. “Uh . . .”

  “Shut it.” Bryce smirked. “You’ve seen me naked the most here—” He halted as Corrigan abruptly swung around and left, heading down a hallway. “Uh. Never mind. Enjoy Denton’s masterpiece all you want.”

  I pressed my lips together. There was another comeback there, a crude joke just asking to be told, but I kept quiet. There’d been a time when Corrigan would’ve said it for me. He would’ve winked, and delivered a better joke than I could ever think of, and he’d follow it up with pinching my ass.

  Not this Corrigan.

  I watched as he kept walking away. This Corrigan was tense, quiet, moody, and dark. His shoulders were rigid and his head was bent forward. As he turned to go to the bedroom, I caught his side profile. His dark blond hair fell over his forehead. His jaw was hard, and his anger emanated from him.

  I felt a little tingle inside me.

  “Sheldon?”

  Bryce distracted me. “Huh?”

  He frowned, rubbing at the side of his face. “Do you want someone upstairs with you? I know Corrigan was there earlier?”

  “No.” That word ripped from me quicker than I could stop it. “I mean, no. Thank you, though. I’m awake. I’ll probably go watch a movie alone or something.”

  “You sure?”

  I nodded. “Yeah.” That damn tingle was bothering me, more than I wanted to admit. “Yeah. I’ll be fine.”

  “Okay.”

  He
lifted a hand and headed toward where Corrigan had gone. As he did, Denton swung his head to me. “Wanna get drunk by the pool?”

  I groaned. “God, yes.”

  “See you out there. I’ll go get the good stuff.”

  “That’s why we’re friends.” I laughed.

  Denton started for the basement, but looked back. “For my wine?”

  “That and this.” I waved my hand up and down at him. “If I’m Princess, then I’m just going to call you Superstar. How’s that? Or maybe Super Stud? Celebrity? What about Movie Stud? I like that one.”

  “Har-har, Sheldon.” His voice trailed off as he descended the stairs. “Mock me if you want to, but I can tell when you’re still hot and bothered. Don’t deny it . . .”

  He had moved farther inside the basement so it was just me left in the front entrance. Me, myself, and I. Denton’s words echoed in my head. ‘Don’t deny it.’ I groaned again. I wanted to deny it. I wanted to deny it so damn much.

  That tingle was still with me, and an image of Bryce holding the side of my head at my door kept flashing in my mind at the same time.

  Hell. Getting drunk wasn’t going to do it. I’d have to be drinking all night long, and with that thought, I headed to my room for a sweatshirt. I’d need it if we were going to be drinking until sun-up.

  When I got back downstairs, Denton was sitting on one of the loungers by the pool. Stepping outside, the cool air hit me first. It was a fresh wave of oxygen and for a moment, I just stopped, closed my eyes, and breathed it in. It was dark out, but the moon was high above. Its reflection was mirrored in the pool. When I went over to sit in the lounger next to Denton, there was a wine bottle on the floor between them.

  Chuckling softly, I sat and grabbed that thing. Hello. It was the good stuff. Denton always had the best of the best. When I finished taking a drink, Denton was watching me with an amused grin. I asked, still clutching the bottle, “What?”

  He shook his head, still grinning. “Nothing.”

  I held the bottle to him. “I see wine, and I grab. It’s as simple as that.” Waving it at him, I smirked back. “You should know this by now.”

  “I do.” He reached down on the other side of his lounger and pulled up another bottle. “I brought red out for you. The white stuff is for me.”

 

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