“How…” I swallow painfully. “How did I get here?”
Henry stands over me, eyes narrowed and I can almost feel the tension radiating off him. He’s angry. Really angry.
“My men brought you back.” He shoves his hands in his pant pockets and stares down at me, like he’s daring me to fight him.
It’s then that I realize what he’s saying.
“Your men?” The guys who stormed into Jax’s place. That’s who he’s talking about. They belonged to him? But how did he know where I was? It hits me like a sledgehammer to the skull, and I shake my head, blinking up at him. I don’t want to believe it. “You had me followed?”
“Yes.” His answer is blunt, and holds no apology.
I let it sink in and fresh panic starts to creep its way up my throat as Jax’s words come back to me – You think that Henry Caldwell would be with someone like you if it wasn’t for some gain?
I bite my lip, and flinch when he reaches out to touch my face.
He drops his hand, and a pained expression crosses his face.
“Get some rest. We’ll talk more later.” He straightens and turns towards the door.
That’s it? He’s just going to drop the bomb that he had people following me, then leave?
“Wait.”
He goes still, hand on the door handle, and turns slightly. I can see the muscle on his jaw bunch. His face is a mask, and I can tell he’s trying to hold back his anger.
But who the hell is he to be upset with me?
I wince inwardly when I remember the note. But I don’t owe him an explanation. This was never going to be more than a one-night-stand. No matter how much I wish otherwise. It just lasted a week longer than it should have.
“What, Keeley?” His dark eyes drill into me, and my entire body warms from the look he gives me.
I shake my head and look away.
“Nothing,” I whisper.
A harsh, unsteady growl rolls across the room, and I startle, glancing up at the man who looks ready to devour me.
The sad thing is I know I’d be completely helpless if he chose to do so.
After a long, tense moment, his nostrils flare. When he speaks next, his voice is low and deep, and each word is edged with a possessiveness that sends a shiver down my spine.
“Don’t run from me again.”
His eyes are locked on mine, and he doesn’t break his gaze until I give a small nod.
I can’t even process the emotions that are spinning through me. Fear. Confusion. Anger. Hurt. And the most confusing, need.
Tears blur my vision as I watch him walk out of the room. Despite all my questions, I want to call him back, beg him to wrap his arms around me, to hold me. Only in his embrace do I feel safe, protected.
It’s insane. Because for all I know, he’s the one I need protection from.
Jax’s words continue to haunt me. The man fucked your sister. Got her pregnant. Killed herself because of him.
Is that why Henry wants me? As some sick, twisted retribution for what he did in the past?
I lie back in bed and run my hands over my face. I don’t how much of what Jax said I should believe.
One thing I’ve learned over the years is that there’s always a touch of truth in every lie. And there’s no denying that Henry knew Abby.
Don’t believe me, ask him, Jax’s words taunt.
I have every intention to.
Chapter 16
Henry
A cold, hard knot of rage forms in the pit of my stomach and my jaw aches with the forth of my teeth grinding together as I listen to Michael’s recap of what went down.
“The guy’s name is Jax Williams.” Michael sighs and places a thick folder on the island counter in front of me. “Low level drug dealer. Couple arrests on his record. Spent time in foster care and juvie.”
I open the folder and let out a low breath, frustration brewing inside me when I recognize the bastard from the club.
The fact that Keeley went running to him isn’t lost on me. I saw the texts, I know why she went, but she also had to trust the man enough to believe he was telling the truth. She hasn’t said much about their relationship, but she also hasn’t denied that they had one.
Jealousy all but consumes me.
“Did he talk?”
“Yeah. We got what we needed before the cops took him away.” Michael’s green eyes flash with something I haven’t seen in years – concern.
“What?”
“He isn’t the only one after the girl. Whatever her brother is into, it goes deeper than just drugs.”
“Fuck.” I toss the file on the counter, then rub my hand over the back of my neck. “Any idea where he’s hiding?”
“Williams thinks he’s skipped town.”
“Fucking coward,” I mumble under my breath. That Keeley risked herself for the bastard’s life, when he clearly has no concern for hers, makes my blood boil. “I want you to find him.”
“Working on it, boss.” Michael’s hawk-like gaze doesn’t waver from me, and I know he’s not telling me something. But how much worse can the situation get?
“Spit it out.”
Michael sighs and leans against the wall, thick arms crossed over his chest. “You were right about Sullivan.”
Shit.
I place my palms on the counter and brace for what I already know. “Tell me.”
“He did a good job covering his tracks. But if I had to guess, John Sullivan is the girl’s father.”
Pinching the bridge of my nose, I start to pace. “And the mother?”
Michael pulls out a folded sheet of paper from his jacket pocket and places it in front of me. “It’s bad.”
My fingers shake when I read the headline printed on the newspaper clipping – Mother kills infant, then herself. Two oldest children escape.
I scan the article, then the date. Keeley would have been about six when it happened. “And Sullivan?”
“From what I can tell, after the incident he stopped all financial aid. The kids were placed in foster care. Bounced from home to home, before they aged-out.”
I crush the paper in my fist, and fight the urge to go to Keeley. I can’t even begin to imagine the nightmares she’s lived through. Fury all but consumes me when I think of the fucker Sullivan leaving his own children in the hands of strangers.
The bastard won’t get away with it. I’ll make sure he pays for what he’s done. After all the grief he gave me over Abby, and he practically did the very thing he accused me of.
Memories from the past start to make sense. I start to wonder if my father didn’t know the truth the entire time. The beatings I got for insisting what I saw that day, they make sense, if he was trying to cover up for John.
“I want everything you’ve got on Sullivan and Keeley’s mom. If I’m going to expose what he’s done–”
“It’s true.” Keeley stands in the kitchen doorway, eyes wide in her pale face. “I didn’t believe Jax when he told me.”
She shakes her head and looks at me like I’m somehow responsible for all her suffering, and I have no idea why.
Even in the dim evening light, I can see the dark bruises around her neck, the paleness of her skin. I take three long strides towards her, but she draws back when I reach out to touch her. What the fuck?
“I don’t know what Jax told you, but I’m trying to help. If my men hadn’t found you, who knows what that bastard would have done.”
She snorts, and her lips curl back in a sneer. “At least he didn’t lie to me. Didn’t pretend to be interested in me, and for what?” She jabs her finger at my chest. “Was it a revenge fuck? Or you screwed the one sister, so you had to have the other?”
“Careful,” I warn, feeling my own temper flare. What the hell had the bastard told her?
“No, you be careful. Cause I’m not buying this whole white knight thing you’re selling.”
Michael coughs behind me, and we both turn and glare at him.
�
��I’m going to head out. I’ll call you when I have more information.”
I give a sharp nod. We both stare at each other in silence until Michael is gone.
Tears gather in Keeley’s eyes, and her chin trembles slightly. I want to pull her into my arms, make everything better. But at the same time, I want to shake her until she realizes that I’m not the bad guy here.
She tilts her head and blinks up at me like she’s come to some God-awful conclusion.
“Jax was right. You’ve been using me this entire time.”
If I hear the asshole’s name on her lips one more time, I may end up putting my fist through a wall.
“And how exactly am I using you?” My back teeth grind together, and I practically hiss the words. I see her flinch, but I don’t fucking care. I’m pissed. I lean into her and demand, “I want to know exactly what I’m being accused of.”
She pushes past me and opens a drawer, pulling out a manila envelope, then dumps the pictures on the counter in front of me. “You’re not the only one who knows things.”
I glance down at the pile of scattered photos. It’s been years since I’ve looked at them. I’m not even sure why I’ve kept them all this time, other than to torment myself with guilt.
Kneeling, I pick up the single photo that fell on the floor. I stare down at it, then brush my fingers across the matte outline of Abby’s face. The photo was taken the summer before our senior year, around the same time she started hooking up with the bastard that ultimately destroyed her.
I still don’t know the asshole’s name, or even what he looked like. Abby never told me. She was smart not to, because I probably would have killed the bastard if I’d found out.
“Whatever you think you know, you’re wrong.” I place the picture beside the others.
“Then tell me. Give me some good explanation for all this.” She gestures to the photos. “Tell me the truth.”
Tell her the truth. I could. Maybe I even should. But I made a promise on Abby’s grave that I wouldn’t mar her memory.
“It’s complicated.”
“Right.” She rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her chest defensively. “But you knew who I was all this time. That she was my sister.”
“No.” I swallow hard, realizing it’s a lie. “Shit. Maybe. I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
“I had my suspicions when I was in your apartment that first night.”
“But you didn’t say anything?”
“Like I said, it was only a feeling. I wanted to make sure before I said anything. I didn’t even know if you knew about her–”
“I didn’t. Not until today when Jax showed me her obituary.” A tear slides down her cheek and she brushes it away angrily.
“God, Keeley. I’m so sorry.”
She puts her hand up to stop me from reaching out and touching her.
“Just tell me the truth. This thing between us, it’s all been about her?”
“No.” It comes out sounding more like a growl than a word, and I see her blink in surprise.
“But you were in a relationship?”
“It’s complicated. And it was a long time ago. It doesn’t change anything that’s between us.”
“It changes everything.”
I grind my teeth knowing I need to tell her the truth, or I’m going to lose her.
“Were you in love with her?”
“No.” It’s the truth. There had never been anything romantic between Abby and I. Not that she wasn’t gorgeous, but she was like a sister to me. “I loved her. But I wasn’t in love with her. We were just friends.”
“Friends?” She looks at me like she doesn’t believe me.
“Our families were close. We vacationed together, so Abby and I were pretty much glued at the hip, until–” I clench my jaw and look away from Keeley’s accusing gaze.
“Until what?”
“Until I fucked up.”
Keeley’s eyes widen, and I know she’s thinking the worst. God only knows what conclusions she’s come to, or what lies that bastard told her. I’m still trying to figure out how he even knows about Abby, and what his motivation was to tell Keeley about her.
“What did you do?” The question seems forced from her lips, like she doesn’t really want to know the answer.
“I didn’t protect her the way I should have.” I place my palms on the counter and close my eyes. As soon as I do, an image of Abby lying in my arms, lips blue, eyes vacant, blasts into my head like a horror movie replaying itself over and over again. “She needed my help, and I wasn’t there for her.”
Silence hangs between us, and I can feel Keeley’s gaze on me, but with the guilt heavy on my shoulders, I can’t look up. Seeing the blame in her eyes will all but gut me now.
“So you’re trying to make up for it? Is that what this has all been about?”
“No.”
“I’m trying to figure out what you want from me?”
“Nothing more than you’re willing to give. I’ve waited twenty years to find you, I can’t lose you now.”
“Twenty years?” Her brows furrow, and I can almost see her mind racing.
So she doesn’t remember. Not that I’m surprised. She was young and it was ages ago. But the fact that she kept the sword all these years. It has to mean something.
I move around the counter and open the drawer, pulling out the child’s toy.
“I thought when you left it with the note that maybe you remembered.”
“Remember what?”
I run my fingers over the carving on the handle. “H.W.C.”
She frowns, but takes the sword when I hand it to her.
“They’re my initials. Henry William Caldwell. This was mine.”
“Yours?” Something flashes beneath the brilliant blue gaze as it holds mine.
“You were sitting under a tree, crying when I found you. You were dirty, and there were bruises covering your arms and legs. I don’t remember much about the day, but I always remembered your eyes. The clearest blue.” This time when I reach out to stroke her cheek, she doesn’t finch away.
She shakes her head, but I know it’s more from shock than denial.
“The woman you were with, she was arguing with John Sullivan. I didn’t understand what it was about then. I just knew I wanted to keep you safe.”
“From dragons,” she whispers. Her eyes are closed and there’s a slight tremble to her bottom lip. “I remember.”
“I wanted to find you after you left, but when I told my father what happened–” I wince, remembering the beating I’d received when I’d told him what I’d seen. I hadn’t been able to sit down for nearly a week afterwards. “I wasn’t allowed to talk about what I saw. I’m sorry.”
“You’re the knight?” She blinks up at me, tears welling in her eyes. “I dreamed of you. For years, I believed you’d find me.”
“I did find you.” I cup my hand around the back of her neck and gently pull her towards me. For a moment, I feel her melt against me. “And this time I’m not going to let you go.”
“No.” She shakes her head and takes a step back, dropping the sword into my hands. “It doesn’t change anything.”
I move in front of her when she starts towards the door.
“I’m not the bad guy here.”
“Maybe not. But I’m not going to be a pawn in whatever game you’re playing.”
I narrow my gaze. “I’m not playing games, Keeley.”
“Then why did you have me followed?” Her voice cracks and I can tell it hurts for her to speak. “Why all the secrets?”
“Because you won’t tell me a damn thing. If you trusted me, I wouldn’t have to go digging.”
“Bullshit. You probably had your men looking into my past the moment we met. You think that’s normal? It’s insane. This whole situation is crazy. So unless I’m your prisoner now, I’m asking you to leave me alone, let me go.”
“No fucking chance in hell.” A
ll the anger I’ve been holding in for the past hour boils to the surface. “You need my help, and I’m not letting you walk away when there are people out there who want to hurt you. You might not like it, but we’re bound together. And I’m going to make bloody well sure that no one ever hurts you again.”
Her nostrils flare and I can almost see the walls she’s building around herself – a steel cage. Her breathing has slowed, and the look she gives me is deadpan.
“Just because I decided to sleep with you doesn’t give you any power over me.” Her voice is low, steady, but I can tell every word she utters takes every ounce of strength she has left. “And don’t pretend like there’s anything more than sex between us.”
Her words are like a smack to the face. I know she’s hurting, that she’s confused, but for a moment I actually think she believes it.
“Fine.” I shove my hands in my pockets and narrow my gaze. “You want to walk out that door.” I tilt my head towards the exit. “Go ahead.”
“I will,” she says coldly, but there’s a hesitation in her voice and she doesn’t move.
“Then go.”
I can see the uncertainty in her eyes, the vulnerability and despair. It’s all I need. Because even if she tried I know there’s no way in hell I’m letting her walk away.
With three long strides, I bridge the gap between us and wrap one arm around her waist, the other hand behind her neck, forcing her to look at me.
“Let me go,” she whispers halfheartedly. Her gaze rests on my mouth and her tongue pokes out, running across her bottom lip.
A low rumble catches in my throat, and I’m unable to stop myself from what I do next. I drop my mouth to hers, crushing her lips against mine, knowing that with the kiss I’m taking the last remaining fight from her. It’s dirty using her attraction for me as gain. But right now, I don’t fucking care. She’s mine, and she needs to remember it.
“You don’t want to leave,” I growl against her lips.
“No,” she whimpers, hands resting on my chest. “But I know I should.”
I can tell the admission takes everything from her.
“Stay.” It’s not a request. I’m not giving her that option.
Melting Steel: An Alpha Billionaire Romance Page 8