The questions swirled around his mind until he arrived at the waiting area. Filled with seating lining three walls, the waiting area was bland but functional. White linoleum reflected overhead lights and magazines sat scattered over plain coffee tables. Leander and Mattias both had their phones to their ears, either checking in at home or seeing to business they'd put on hold to be here for him. Ending the calls when they saw him, Leander and Mattias stood from their chairs and met him at the edge of the room.
“She still doing okay?” Leander asked first.
“Yes. She's awake now and asking for the doctor. It took her a few minutes to remember everything that happened,” Chayton said.
“Good, I'm glad to hear she's awake. Did you get to talk much before she asked for the doctor?” Mattias asked.
“Not too much. She's still a little groggy from the sedatives. She'll be good to go home in a few days, I think.”
“Excellent news.” Leander clapped Chayton on the shoulder.
“What about you and her?” Mattias asked.
Expecting the penetrating looks from Mattias and Leander, knowing the men he considered brothers had great compassion and understanding of his emotions and inner turmoil, he said, “I really don't know. She didn't say, and I didn't ask. It wasn't the right time. I suppose I'll have to bring it up at some point before she's released though.”
Chayton couldn't tell if he was relieved or apprehensive about that upcoming conversation.
“At least the threat is gone now,” Mattias added. “That should give you two time to figure it out.”
“Yeah, and I just have a feeling that things will work in your favor,” Leander said with a final squeeze of Chayton's shoulder.
“Leander. Always the optimist—except when he's not being a pessimist,” Chayton said.
“That's me.” Leander laughed and pocketed his phone.
“I know you two need to get back to your lives. Thanks for coming out again,” Chayton said. The two men had dropped everything once more to fly in and help.
“There are a few things to see to, yes. Sander is getting impatient to leave for the back country and attend business there,” Mattias said. “But he asked me to extend his well wishes.”
“I have a fiance waiting to pounce me with wedding details.” Leander shuddered playfully. “And I just know as well as I'm standing here, that the 'small gathering' I asked for has somehow gotten blown up into a big old ceremony.”
A chuckle rippled through all three men.
“You'll survive. Don't get married without me now,” Chayton said.
“How can I? You're one of the groomsmen.” Leander winked.
“That's news to me.”
“He didn't ask me, either,” Mattias said with a quirk of his mouth. “And you're welcome. Anytime.”
“Take it easy brother. Let us know what happens.” Leander nudged Chayton on the way by.
“I will. Safe travels.” Chayton watched the men depart. A few minutes later, Chayton headed back to Kate's room via another roundabout route. He wanted the extra time to think.
. . .
“All right, it looks like your pregnancy is still intact, Kate.” Doctor Witten pulled gloves off her hands while a nurse situated the blanket back over Kate's legs. “Your cervix is shut tight and the sonogram you had before the physical showed a clear sac. It's too early yet to see the fetus, but he or she is in there, growing.” The doctor smiled, then tossed the spent gloves into the trash.
After suffering through nerves with blood tests, the sonogram and the physical exam, Kate could finally breathe easier. “That's great news, Doctor Witten.”
“I want to keep you one or two more nights as a precautionary measure, but I think, overall, you're a very lucky young lady. Get some rest.”
“I will. Thank you.” Kate settled into the bed, relief a stronger drug than what the nurses were pumping into her system via an IV drip. Thank God. The baby was safe.
“Mister Black has been waiting outside in the hall. Should I send him in?” the nurse asked, cleaning up the last bits of trash from the exam.
“Yes, please do.” Kate wasn't sure whether to tell Chayton now or wait until she discovered what came next between them. She didn't want him to stay with her just because of the baby. Kate wanted him to stay with her because he wanted to be there.
The nurse departed, leaving the door cracked in her wake.
A few minutes later, Chayton knocked, and pushed the door in. “Up for company?”
Kate smiled, pulling the covers tighter against her body. “Of course, yes. I'm more awake now.”
Chayton, dressed in black, hair still long and loose down his back, arrived at her bedside and leaned over to press a warm kiss against her temple. “Everything okay?”
Kate thought the kiss was a good sign. “Yes. The doctor just did a few tests and said she wants to keep me a couple more nights. But then I think I get to go home.”
Chayton lowered the guard rail as he'd done the last time and perched on the edge of the bed. Kate appreciated his lean strength and casual posture as he got comfortable. She thought he looked a little wild and unpredictable with his hair unbound.
“That's good news indeed. I didn't get a chance to tell you about home earlier.”
Kate frowned at the disturbance she detected beneath his calm exterior. “Your home in Montana, or mine in New York?”
“Kate...Anton killed Espinosa and the staff at your house. Most of your staff. A few who had days off survived.” Chayton delivered the news in a quiet, solemn voice.
Feeling as if she'd just been knocked down by a wrecking ball, Kate gasped. “He did what? But, but...”
“It's true. I'm sorry. Espinosa was tightening the noose, I guess, and Anton got wind of it. He went on a rampage and apparently tortured your whereabouts out of Espinosa at the end.”
“Oh no. Oh no.” Kate caught an unexpected sob against her palm, unable to quell the rush of emotion and sorrow over the loss of so many people. Some of the employees, such as Jones, had been with her family for a long time. They were family. She could not comprehend the violence, the brutality. The thought of kind Mister Espinosa being tortured for her whereabouts made her sick.
Chayton rubbed a hand up and down her arm. “I know it's hard. I wanted to be the one to tell you, though. The police have been all over it.”
“Too little, too late,” Kate said through her tears. Chayton scooted closer, offering his body for her to lean into.
And she did. She wrapped her arms around his middle and pressed her cheek into his chest. He was warm and solid and smelled vaguely of an expensive, masculine cologne. Guilt ate at Kate's insides, made it hard to breathe. She felt indirectly responsible for the employees losing their lives, and immediately responsible for Espinosa. She should have been more insistent how dangerous she thought Anton could be.
Realistically, however, Anton's attack shocked even her. Could she have foreseen something like this? Her suspicion of Anton's involvement in her mother's death hadn't triggered thoughts that he would turn mass murderer if he didn't get what he wanted. Yes, she'd feared for her life. Her life. Not those of her staff and her attorney.
Chayton's soothing strokes over her hair and shoulder reminded Kate of what else she might stand to lose. How to broach the subject was beyond Kate at the moment, so she accepted his gentle caresses and tried to push back the pain. Besides mental anguish, her body ached in ways it never had, her muscles screaming protest at being used in the simple act of sitting forward.
“I'll help you figure it all out. Why don't you come stay at my house while the police conduct their investigation in New York?” Chayton said.
“All right.” Kate wouldn't turn down the offer. She didn't know whether he was being the polite gentleman she knew him to be, or whether he too wanted of her what she wanted of him. It was all very awkward, with many things left unspoken.
Now wasn't the time to discuss it. Maybe later.
Once her tears dried and the shaking stopped, she accepted Chayton's help to lean back in the bed. The room spun in dizzying circles, and she couldn't seem to keep her eyelids open.
“Why don't you rest? I'll be here until it's time to take you home.”
Kate stared blearily up at Chayton's face. Such a handsome face. Eyes full of concern, lips pressed tight as if there was more he wanted to say, but couldn't. The mention of home sent a spike of longing through Kate. Longing to be back at the Montana mansion, far from scenes of murder and mayhem. Closer to where she'd said I Do.
“You won't leave?” she whispered.
“No. Sleep, Kate. I'll be here, don't worry.”
As she let sleep claim her, Kate worried anyway.
Chapter Seventeen
Kate stood in the foyer of Chayton's house, struck by a sense of nostalgia. Even though her time here had been short, the memories attached to certain rooms overwhelmed her. How different things were the last time she'd slept under this roof. Then, she'd been full of wide-eyed wonder, about to embark on a risky venture of becoming an almost-stranger's wife. The sense of awe and wonderment had faded, replaced by wistfulness and longing.
“You okay?” Chayton asked, sticking his face into her line of vision.
Kate shook herself out of her reverie and smiled. “I'm fine. Just remembering.”
“The good or the bad?” he asked, tightening his elbow against her fingers.
Kate, hand tucked up under his elbow for support, gave his arm a light squeeze. “Both,” she said honestly. She couldn't remember the good without the bad. Without remembering her massive blunder in the bedroom upstairs, his bedroom, where they'd nearly consummated their fake marriage.
Thinking of bedrooms brought Kate to the question that had hounded her for two days: would he take her to the bedroom designated as 'hers', or would he take her to his, keeping up the ruse of a happily married couple? Was there any reason to keep the ruse up any longer, now that Anton was dead?
A few staff members strolled by, nodding politely with quiet greetings.
“Welcome home, Missus Black,” one petite maid said.
Missus Black. A pang lanced through Kate's insides, a pang that had nothing to do with the left over ache from the accident.
She was Missus Black—and she wasn't.
“Thank you. I'm glad to be back.” That, at least, was the truth.
“Come on. I know you're probably sore from all the travel.” Chayton led her on, passing through the foyer to the stairs. At the bottom one, he bent to carefully pick her up, carrying her bridegroom style to the second floor.
Kate could have navigated the steps one by one, slowly but surely. She didn't protest at all when he swept her into his arms, however, allowing him to take her where he would.
Which turned out to be her former room, not his.
Kate struggled to hide her disappointment.
What did you expect? That you would pick up where you left off in Hawaii, before you left him in the middle of the night for Anton? Kate chided herself and thanked Chayton when he set her down in one of two overstuffed chairs. She noticed a few changes in the delicate, feminine room: bottles of perfume and lotion sat in a silver tray atop the dresser, next to another tray of brushes, a kit of make-up and other girly necessities. A slip of peach satin peeked out the top of a dresser drawer, giving hints that more items lurked in there with it. Chayton had stocked the drawers, probably the bathroom, and certainly the closet.
Always thinking, always one step ahead.
“This is becoming a habit, isn't it,” Kate said, referring to the new things. Not that he'd likely know what she meant.
“A pleasant habit,” he said, as if he knew exactly what she was thinking.
Kate met his eyes. “I appreciate it.”
“You're welcome. If there's anything else you need, just ask. We tried to cover everything.”
“I'll let you know. Tomorrow, I think, I need to start contacting my managers and my other employees to see where everything stands. Which means I'll need a new phone, if you can help with that.” Kate had faith that her managers could handle things, but she needed to at least get in touch with them to make sure everything was still running smoothly.
“Give me the information—your old number—and I'll make the necessary arrangements.” Chayton pushed a hand into the pocket of his ash gray slacks. Coupled with a teal button down, hair caught at his nape with a plain black band, he looked the epitome of a businessman.
Kate stole a few moments to appreciate the lean, strong image Chayton presented. He seemed so capable, so self-assured. Confident.
Kate wished she felt half as confident as he looked. “All right.”
“You can use the house phone until then for any calls. We've been able to hold the media at bay so far, but you'll probably need to release a statement through your people so you don't get hounded.”
“I'll see to it first thing in the morning.” The media was the last thing Kate wanted to deal with. She'd refused to even turn the television on in the hospital and hadn't looked at a newspaper at all.
“You sure you're okay?” he asked.
Kate met his eyes. “Yes, why do you ask?”
“Because you have this look of disappointment about you.”
Kate had forgotten how intuitive Chayton could be. She glanced around the bedroom, unable to bring herself to admit she wanted to be in his room, not hers. She gave him a truthful answer regardless.
“I'm disappointed that Anton won't ever be made to pay for his crimes.”
“You don't think death is payment enough?”
“Honestly? No. Anton deserved to have the book thrown at him. He deserved to wallow in prison—which he would have hated—for taking so many other people's lives. He deserved to suffer a little. He died almost instantly, so there was no suffering at all. Not only are people I loved dead, their families now have to go on in a world where their mother, father, brother, son or daughter will never come home again. No, death was far, far too good for Anton.” Kate surprised herself with her quiet vehemence. Tears pricked the back of her eyes, tears she refused to give in to. She met Chayton's gaze, a gaze full of sympathy and understanding.
“He paid the ultimate price for his desperation.” Chayton paused, then said, “I would have appreciated fifteen minutes alone with him.”
“So you don't think he would have suffered more if he'd been made to languish in prison the rest of his life?”
“I think, with his connections, he might have found a way to eventually try to get back at you. Even with him behind bars, you would have been looking over your shoulder the rest of your life, which is no way to live.”
Kate flinched. She hadn't thought about that. Anton did have a lot of connections. “That's impossible, isn't it? Those are stories for television. That doesn't really happen in real life.”
Chayton just stared at her.
Kate shifted in the chair, uncomfortable at the thought. Especially now, with a baby on the way.
“With all that time to stew and think—and get angrier, and angrier—I wouldn't have put it past him. What a way to wile away his time, attempting to orchestrate more mayhem behind bars. He wouldn't have gotten what he wanted in the end, but it might have given him something to look forward to.”
Kate scoffed. Yet she could see the truth in it. “He should have just taken the money and been happy with that. But no.”
Chayton frowned. “What money?”
Kate glanced down at her lap. They hadn't discussed the time in Hawaii in depth. Not yet. In a quiet voice, she said, “I left the beach house that night to make Anton an offer. I thought—foolishly I realize now—that if I gave him two million dollars, that it would 'buy him off', essentially. I was afraid of what he would do, and I wanted him off our back. So I went to tell him he could have his money if he would just leave us alone.”
“He didn't want the money?”
“No. He wanted my entire inheritance
and he wanted you dead, apparently. He laughed off the two million as if I'd offered him a handful of pennies. Didn't even hesitate.” Kate met Chayton's eyes. His expression was closed off, unreadable. She couldn't tell what he was thinking. They stared at each other for a long minute.
“I wish you would have thought harder about that before going off by yourself,” he finally said in a quiet voice.
“I know. It wasn't the best idea. I just wanted it to be over, and I really thought two million dollars would be more than enough. I thought he would be happy to have it right then, instead of having to wait. I thought I had the upper hand.” Kate hated admitting she'd made such a grievous error in judgement over Anton's reaction. It was what it was, however, and she couldn't take it back now.
“It probably would have been enough for most men. Anton was cut from a different cloth. One of those people whose ambitions far exceeded what was wise or achievable.”
“You almost died. If I'd had any idea he was waiting for an opening, I wouldn't have ever left.” Kate rubbed her forehead, careful of a bruise above her eyebrow.
“He meant to take a shot at some point. Even if he had doubts about the marriage's legitimacy, he had it in for me just in case. Better, I guess, that you weren't there with me when it happened.”
“If you had gone with me, he probably would have done the same thing,” Kate said.
“If I'd gone with you, he wouldn't have ever left Hawaii with you in tow.” There was a steely quality to Chayton's reply that left no doubt he meant what he said.
“Maybe not. Maybe he would have tried something even more desperate.” She paused, then said, “By the way, I've wondered what kind of connections you have as well. You're always where you need to be and your friends—they seem to be as adept at protection as you.”
Chayton tipped a look toward the ceiling, then met her gaze again. “All I'm going to say about that is...we like to be in the know. And we don't like to sit around doing nothing but tending typical business or spend all our time in board meetings. We like to be active and involved.”
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