Suddenly, I’m grabbed from behind and pulled into a hallway, only to find myself pressed against a wall, Jax’s big body crowding mine. “What the hell are you doing, woman?” he demands. “You were on the ledge about to fall to the ground. Get away from my brother before he comes at you again.”
I recoil as if punched and then punch back. “Get away?” I demand this time. “Did you really just say that to me?”
“Until I get him the hell away. That’s all I meant. You have to know that’s what I meant.”
I suck in a breath and breathe it out. God. I’m losing it. I’m out of control. I’m shaking. “Yes. I do. I do, I just—”
His hands come down on my arms, and he pulls me to him. “I’m crazy about you, Emma. I don’t want you hurt.”
He says those words with low, guttural passion in his voice, and I grab his arms, holding him, holding him with all my might. “Come with me. Just come with me. We need out of here, Jax. Let Brody cool off and—”
Brody starts cursing at Savage. Jax curses in response. “I need to deal with this before they come to blows. You know I have to do this.”
Savage lets out a taunting chuckle that is long and drawn out. It’s a dare. He wants Brody to come at him, to throw a punch. I don’t even want to know what Savage would do to Brody if that happens, and my mother’s words come to me hard and fast. “Those who act swiftly, often act foolishly,” but contrary to her advice, I do act swiftly. “Don’t let them fight,” I say, grabbing the lapels of the suit jacket Jax still wears. “You might think you want Savage to beat some sense into him right now, and lord knows, I do, too, but that will draw a thicker line between you and Brody. Tomorrow, you’ll wish that you stopped this.”
His eyes narrow. “You’d protect him after what he did to you?”
“Emotionally based decisions feed regret,” I say, using my father’s words this time, but I would never speak that source name to Jax. “Maybe Brody will have regrets tomorrow,” I add. “Maybe he won’t, but I don’t want you to have regrets with Brody that I inspired. That’s not good for you, me, or us.”
“Us?” he asks, jumping on that usage instantly.
I swallow hard, wondering if there is an us. Can there even be an us after tonight? And, why does the idea of losing this man already hurt so damn badly? I never get the chance to voice those thoughts because Brody starts yelling again, and the rising conflict between him and Savage is evident.
“Jax, please. Go now.”
Jax reacts by turning me to face the long hallway that leads further into the castle, back the way I came, I think. He steps behind me, leans in close, his breath a warm fan at my ear. “You go now. Turn right and meet me in the lobby.” He cups my head and leans around me, pulling my mouth to his. “I’ll be right there. I promise.” He presses his mouth to mine in a quick, hot kiss before he sets me away from him. I start walking, and when I look over my shoulder, he’s already rounding the corner, headed into the fire that is his brother’s anger, his fury, that became his willingness to kill.
No.
I need to be clear and take that a step further.
His willingness to kill me.
I tell myself to leave, but the idea that I’m the reason Jax and his brother are coming to blows is not a good one. I fret and then give into temptation. Hurrying back down the hallway, I stop at the edge of my path, but all I hear now is silence. I ease around the corner and find that all three men are gone. I’m not sure how that happened or where they are, but a weird jolt of foreboding has me running toward the hallway again, and I can’t help it. Fight or flight kicks in when there is no one to fight at the moment.
I start to run.
CHAPTER THREE
Emma…
The hallway is a long and winding path. I think that description is from a movie or book, I don’t know, but it fits. It’s also why I’m breathing hard when I step into a big round room with the several arched doors. In hindsight, all those doors remind me of a haunted house in a horror movie. With no one in sight, I race into the actual foyer to find it barren of people as well. I start to pace, waiting on Jax, willing his return, and the replay of me on that ledge, of the hate radiating through Brody’s voice, his eyes, suffocates me. I can’t breathe. I need air. I need to think. I charge toward the massive dungeon-style door and try to open it. It won’t budge. I let out a growl of frustration as I hear, “Problem?”
At the sound of Jax’s operations manager’s voice, I whirl around to find the pretty blonde looking down her straight perfect nose at me. Jill doesn’t like me, but then why would she? She was Jax’s dead brother’s fiancée. I now get it with crystal clear clarity. They all think my family killed Hunter. If I burned in hell, they’d all be happy. “How do I open this door?” I demand.
“Already leaving?” she challenges.
Emotion punches at me. “How the hell do I open the door?” I demand.
“Punch the button and enter a code.”
“What code?” I push, wanting to throttle her right now.
“I’m not allowed to give out the code.”
Of course, she isn’t. “Open the damn door.”
She punches something on her Apple watch, and the door pops open. I know she works here. I know she was engaged to the man who once owned this castle, a man who is family to Jax. I even know she has every right to control the door, but something about this moment and this exchange doesn’t sit right. In fact, it hits all kinds of wrong, but I’m objective enough to know that I’m not objective at all right now. I turn and pull on the handle, but it’s heavy, and I struggle. I bite back my frustration, not about to let little Miss Priss see me squirm, and pull on the door again. Thank God, it opens and I step outside. The man guarding the door, or managing it, whatever the case is, turns to me, and I have no sense whether he means to stop my retreat or offer aide. I don’t know why I even had that thought. Why would I think I’m a prisoner here?
Not liking where my head is, I don’t wait for the man to speak. I start the long walk down the massive stone stairwell, my heart thundering in my chest, my emotions a ball in my belly, hugging myself against the chilly ocean air. The same air that was at my back when I hung over that tower ledge. My stomach churns, and bile rises in my throat. Another wave of queasiness has me fighting the urge to double over, right here, with everyone watching. I’m a freak show tonight, and I need a sanctuary, but lord help me, the walk down the steps is eternal.
When I’ve finally reached the end of the steps, I realize that I don’t even know where I’m going. I have nowhere to go. I have no car. The walk to the gates alone is long and then what? I have no way out of here, and really, I’m not sure if that’s what I want. I just need to think. I need to be alone, I need to calm down. And so, I just keep moving. I turn left down a walkway that leads into some sort of garden and the scent of sweet flowers teases my nostrils. The drop of a weeping willow, followed by another, and another darken my path. Death darkens my path, perhaps for the rest of my life if my family killed Hunter. As for the moment, though, there are tiny delicate lights sprinkling my path, illuminating my way forward.
Is Jax using me to get to my family?
I reject that idea the moment I have it. Jax and I had this conversation. He’s not using me to get to my family, not now. Not after he got to know me. And I believe him. I do. I believe him, but then I thought I knew my father, too. I thought I believed his truth that was all lies. And I didn’t know Jax’s brother thought someone in my family pushed their brother to his death, either, and yet still, Jax brought me here. That very concept pushes me onward. I ignore the wobble of my knees and the pinch of my high heels. I ignore the brisk air on my legs, damn this skirt. Why didn’t I change before we left San Francisco? I start running, and this time, it’s not fear. It’s a release, an adrenaline-driven need for release. God, I run, and I don’t even know if I’m really running from Jax. I’m just running. I need to think. I need to breathe a
nd finally, I clear the path to find a dock that leads to a covered observation area. I run toward it like it’s my shelter from a storm that only exists in my mind. I make it all of two steps when someone catches my arm and pulls me backward until I’m suddenly against a hard body.
CHAPTER FOUR
Emma…
We were all better off with him dead.
My father’s words that I found in his journal rip through my mind. A man I’d loved, I’d wanted to please, wrote those words, and now, I’m being punished for his evil. Now, I’m going to end up dead. “Let me go!” I shout, pushing against my captor, squirming against his hold.
“Emma, it’s me. It’s Jax.”
I hear him, I feel him, this man who has taken my world by storm in such a short time, but I can’t quite register that it’s really him. I can’t quite come down off that fight or flight feeling that has obviously been triggered again.
Jax pulls me flush against him, all those hard muscles, all that male perfection, absorbing my smaller, softer frame, and I explode verbally and physically. “What the hell was that back there?” I demand, because the bad won’t go away. The accusations won’t go away. Death won’t go away. It’s forever, eternal, and I have to get away from it and him. “Let me go, Jax.”
“No,” he says, ocean wind gusting around us, moonlight and some sort of artificial lighting illuminating our struggle. “I’m not letting you go. Damn it, woman. I don’t want to let you go.” He catches my leg with his, molding us closer again, his hand on the back of my head. “Don’t you see that? Don’t you feel that?”
“Because you’re going to throw me off of the tower before I can leave?”
“Don’t do that. Don’t do what he’s doing. Don’t make me him, the way he’s trying to make you your father.”
That sobers me and a wicked calm comes over me. “You didn’t tell me,” I accuse, my words laced with the bitterness spiraling inside me, pulling me into the hell of my father’s creation.
He cuts his stare and then looks at me again. “It’s not an easy thing to talk about.”
“Brody—”
“I didn’t expect him to be here. I was going to tell you all about Hunter and I was going to talk to him before he arrived.”
I stare up at Jax, searching his face, thinking about those moments with his brother on that wall, and I swear my stomach rolls all over again. “You think someone in my family, or someone close to my family pushed Hunter?”
He inhales and looks skyward, seeming to struggle with whatever it is in his mind, before his gaze returns to mine. “I’ve told you where I stand on this. You know what I think and feel. I haven’t lied to you, Emma.”
“That’s not an answer.”
He releases me, scrubbing his jaw before his hands settle under his jacket on his hips. “I don’t know what the fuck happened.”
I think of the night we met, and then the night of the boat party. “You sought me out because of your brother.”
“We’ve talked about this. I’ve never denied that fact, but ultimately, I don’t know what I would have done. You found me, Emma. You sat down with me.”
“But you were looking for me.”
He catches my hips and pulls me back to him. “In all kinds of ways that I didn’t understand, baby.”
“What does that even mean, Jax?”
His forehead settles against mine, one hand on my neck, over my hair. “We are nothing I expected.”
For just a moment, I live in the here, wanting to believe him. I do. There’s a pull between me and Jax. A strong, intense pull that is like nothing I have ever known. He’s a drug I can’t seem to resist, and yet, drugs can be deadly. Drugs can kill.
I push against him and stare up at him, the beam of the moonlight washing over his handsome face, highlighting the hard lines, the shadows that have nothing to do with the night. “You should have told me before I came here.”
“The only thing I didn’t tell you is how he died. It’s not an easy thing to talk about. And as much as I love this place, it’s not always easy to be here either.”
“And yet, you brought me here.” Accusation laces my statement.
“Because,” he closes the small space between us, his powerful legs pressed to mine, “I have to be here. I’m forced to be here now, and somehow,” he swallows hard, his lashes lower, emotions punching through my anger, his emotion, before he looks at me and tries again, “somehow, being here with you makes that tolerable. It’s not always tolerable, Emma.”
All kinds of understanding settles in my gut, and my flight instinct fades into the wind. I want to tell him that I feel the same when I walk into my father’s apartment or office, but my father’s not a good subject. I think he knows though. I think that this is one of those moments that explains why we’re so drawn to each other. Why we need each other despite every obstacle before us.
Swallowing hard against the emotion welling in my throat, I hug myself and turn in his arms to face the castle, the towering structure illuminated with tiny white lights. “It’s somehow both magnificent and scary.” I shiver with the words and the wind.
Jax shrugs out of his jacket and slides it around my shoulders, turning me to face him. “And your ability to read my mind is both magnificent and scary.”
“It’s scary for you, too?”
“My brother died here, Emma, and maybe he was murdered, or maybe he chose to take his life, but whatever the case, my damn brother is dead, and he died here. So, hell yeah, it scares me, but it’s still the closest I’m ever going to be to him or my parents ever again. I can’t lose it. I can’t leave it.” His voice is pure torment, and a tiny, dark voice in my head is whispering bad things in my mind. It wonders if my father thought Jax would let the castle go because it’s the place his brother died.
Jax’s hand settles on my hip, a warm possessive touch, his voice low, rough. “I don’t invite people into my world, Emma, especially not after my brother’s death.”
“But I’m here,” I say, understanding in my statement. My hand settles on his chest, over his thundering heart. “And I want to be here. I am here.”
“And so am I.” It’s clear now that we’re not talking about here, as in the castle, but here, present, with each other. His hand slides under my hair, settling on my neck and his mouth lowers to my mouth. “Beyond reason,” he adds, “beyond all that should feel logical to anyone who knows the dynamic of our families, I so fucking am.” He’s barely spoken the words when his mouth slants over mine, and I can taste his urgency, his need, his fear. And God, I understand those things, I understand that fear. Fear that we’re poison to each other. Fear that my father was involved in his brother’s death. Fear that there is more death to follow. We both lost people. We both know we could lose each other. And at least right now, we need each other too much to let that happen.
CHAPTER FIVE
Emma…
I don’t want to think about murder, or Brody, or my father.
All I want is the next lick of this man’s tongue. I need that escape. I need out of my head. I need inside the high that is this man all over me, in every way possible. I arch into him, consumed by passion. Still, though, those moments on the ledge cut through my mind, demanding control. Desperate to push them away, I do what I never dare and lose myself in the moment.
Need expands in my belly, burning low, slicking my thighs. Jax molds me closer, his body pressed to mine. His jacket falls away, and I moan with the taste and feel of him, and I’m not even trying to hold back. I slide my hands over his chest, heat radiating through the thin material of his dress shirt, his muscles flexing beneath my palms. A low growl escapes his lips, and I revel in my ability to predict that response. I revel in knowing that he wants me the way I want him. He cups my backside and pulls me hard against him, the thick ridge of his erection pressed to my belly. Now, I’m the one moaning, licking into his mouth, touching him. I can’t stop touching him and kissing
him. We’re all over each other, and still, those memories, those flashes of me on that landing, won’t stop.
“Emma,” Jax says, tearing his mouth from mine, his hands on my face, while I pant with the sudden disconnect of his mouth with my mouth. “If we don’t stop now, I’m not going to stop.”
“I don’t remember asking you to stop.”
“I have security around the property, and we need to be alone.”
Alone is good, I think, which is an effort, considering my body is still on fire.
“There’s a private entrance to my tower.” He scoops up his jacket and pulls it around me again. “We can avoid the public altogether. Slide your arms in, baby.”
I do as he says, and for some reason, that “baby” endearment has my belly fluttering when it hasn’t before, not like now. He rolls up the sleeves for me, and I can’t explain it, but there’s a new level of intimacy between us that is bittersweet, considering all that has happened tonight.
He laces the fingers of one of my hands with his. “Let’s go inside.”
There’s a part of me that hesitates, that even screams not to go back in that castle, but Jax’s confessions about why he brought me here, why he struggles to be here himself beat down those hesitations. “Yes. Let’s go inside.”
His eyes warm, and I think I see relief in his stare. He was afraid I’d leave. The insecure part of me, the part my father planted and watered for most of my life, could believe that he needs me here, that he needs answers I might have to give. But that’s not what I feel with Jax. We’re together in our quest for knowledge, and I’m not the useless girl my father chose to see. I’m the woman who stood outside my father’s line of sight, who scouted hotel locations, who started them from the ground up, who lived a life he never even noticed, who chooses to follow her instincts. And I choose to believe this connection I feel with Jax is real.
He lifts my hand and kisses it, tenderness that defies the tone of this night, in his touch. He folds our elbows and turns us to the dock. We begin our travels down the wooden planks to the garden path. Once there, when we would turn toward the front of the castle, Jax leads me in the opposite direction, down another dark, narrow path. Perhaps this should scare me. I wait for that feeling of fear to come to me; I mean, after all, his brother did hang me out over a ledge tonight, but it doesn’t come.
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