“Kelton, where are you going? I still need to talk to you!” Chloe shouted.
“I need a minute.” I ran one block down to my Jeep. Then punched the side window, crushing my knuckles. Breathe, man. Go back. Talk to her. I had to think first, clear my head, or maybe jump off a bridge. I dove into my Jeep. I was being a complete jerk by taking off. I should have been asking her if I was the father. But somehow my gut was telling me I was. Otherwise she wouldn’t be breaking the news to me.
I zipped through the streets of Boston, not knowing where I was going. Blood dripped down my knuckles as I banged on the steering wheel over and over again. As I stopped at a light, my phone rang. I checked the screen. Chloe. My hand shook as I shut off my phone.
20
Lizzie
I waited in the reception area of Mr. Davenport’s office. Kelton wasn’t there yet, but we had another ten minutes before our scheduled appointment. I flipped through a car magazine, landing on a page that displayed a Lamborghini. The headline read A Relentless Force—A Fearless Look. I studied the picture of the expensive automobile, picturing Kelton behind the wheel. Several other words came to mind when I thought of Kelton—sleek, hard, and powerful from the way he’d felt in my hands that morning to the way he’d kissed me. I’d wanted us to keep going. I’d wanted every part of him, but Chloe had blown that moment to pieces. What was she doing there at eight in the morning? I would’ve asked her when I practically tripped over her on the steps, but I was too irritated, too frustrated, too jealous. Okay, too angry, too, at Kelton for spouting off about Erika Ames. It wasn’t so much the name but rather his flippant and amused attitude over my jealousy.
I tapped my foot on the carpeted floor—3:59. No Kelton. I called him. The line went straight to voicemail. “Kel, where are you?”
Bonnie, Mr. Davenport’s squat assistant, walked up. “Where’s Mr. Maxwell?” She searched the reception area.
“I’m sorry. He must be running late.” He’d wanted to be there since he was vying for a summer position at the firm. Not only that, I needed him. He’d done his homework on Florida law. “We can start without him.” I prayed nothing had happened to him.
I clutched my phone as we passed by the conference room, law library, and other offices bustling with lawyers and assistants. Phones rang, doors closed, and a young guy with a ball cap wheeled a mail cart past us. I could never see myself in a stuffy office. Working in some type of marine biology job appealed to me far more than any job that required a suit with heels.
“I explained to Mr. Davenport about your appearance,” Bonnie said.
I’d forgotten that I’d had my wig on when I met with Mr. Davenport. “Thank you.” Bonnie had done a double take when I’d removed my wig in front of her. I’d thrown it in the trash in the ladies’ room.
Bonnie gestured with her painted blue nails to the chair in front of Mr. Davenport’s desk.
I eased down onto the leather seat, squinting at the bright sunshine beaming through the windows with a panoramic view of the Boston skyline.
Bonnie waited for Mr. Davenport to sign a document. After she’d collected the paper, she left, leaving us in complete silence.
Placing his elbows on his desk, Mr. Davenport twined his fingers together, his bushy gray eyebrows lifting. “So, no Mr. Maxwell.” He didn’t sound surprised.
“I know he had class. He probably got hung up there.” I hoped Kelton had a good excuse. I didn’t want to see him ruin his chances for the summer position.
“Very well. I’ve managed to talk with Mr. Pilkington, the lawyer in Florida, and read through the estate documents. First, Mr. Pilkington has tried to call the trustee, Terrance Malden, on several occasions. Unfortunately, he hasn’t been able to connect with him. Second, while we try to locate Mr. Malden, it’s wise to freeze the estate assets.”
“Kelton found that under Florida law that if we can prove Terrance no longer lives in Florida, then we could get him removed as a trustee immediately. Is that true?”
“It is. But we would need a document or evidence to support that assumption.”
“His son, Zach, lives in Boston.”
“Is Mr. Malden living with his son?” He picked up a pen and scribbled on a pad.
“Not to my knowledge.” I held a fingernail between my teeth.
“And does his son know where he is?”
“He’s left a message with his father to call him. Sir, Terrance Malden is a heavy gambler. While I can’t say for certain he’s taken my money, my gut tells me he has. We have to do something quickly.”
“Freezing the assets will stop him from withdrawing any more money. However, it will take time to draw up the paperwork. Then we have to schedule a time with a judge. Mr. Pilkington will issue the temporary injunction with the courts in Miami. I’ve drafted an affidavit for you to sign. It’s not hard evidence, but we’ll see if it will pass muster with the judge.” He handed me the document and a pen.
It read that I, as the plaintiff, had not received my monthly stipend from Terrance Malden in the last two months. Nor had he paid my tuition fees to the University of Miami. It also stated that after several phone calls, Mr. Malden could not be reached. In addition that the presumption was that the trustee of my estate no longer resided at the address on file. The details were accurate, so I signed the document.
He scanned the paper. “Mr. Pilkington will do his best. Also, since we can’t locate Mr. Malden, Mr. Pilkington will petition the court to gain access to tax returns, bank statements, and so forth. It would help tremendously if we could get Mr. Malden to hand over his files on his accounting of the estate. In the meantime, sit tight until we hear from Mr. Pilkington.”
Waiting was never my strong suit. I needed to get to the bottom of this faster. The longer it took to freeze the assets, the more opportunity Terrance had to gamble away all my money. And the more he did, the more my future disintegrated. I couldn’t even pay Mr. Davenport. I suddenly realized we hadn’t discussed his fee.
I stopped sabotaging my nail. “Sir, I don’t have any money to pay you.”
His dark eyes softened before he held his chin between his thumb and forefinger. “I haven’t done much, but let’s see where the case takes us. Then we can talk. And I promise if I do charge a fee it won’t be anything you can’t handle. Is that fair?”
I stood. “I appreciate that. And I’m sure Kelton has a good reason for missing this appointment.”
His expression instantly hardened. “A position at my firm is highly sought after, especially for law majors. I was impressed when he contacted me about your case by the knowledge he had of estate law. I also dug into his employment at the last law firm he interned for. They highly recommend him, but not showing up to this appointment doesn’t bode well for Mr. Maxwell.” He reached for his desk phone. “One more thing, Ms. Reardon. If you happen to speak with Terrance Malden, please let me know.”
I nodded as I crossed the room. When I reached the door, I turned back. “Sir, can I bring charges against Terrance if we find he’s been stealing?”
“You can bring a civil suit against him. But as the executor of the estate, he’s criminally liable. If he is stealing, he can also be found in contempt of the probate court. That would carry a fine and possible jail sentence. But that would depend on the severity of the case. Let’s cross that bridge when we get to it.”
“Thank you,” I said then whisked out of the posh offices.
Once outside on the busy street, I called Zach. It had been three days since I’d talked to him at the club. Kelton had said Zach left a message with his father. Surely a father would return his son’s phone call.
“Hello,” he said in a curt tone.
“Zach, it’s Elizabeth Reardon. Did you talk to your father?”
“This isn’t a good time.” The phone went dead.
I called again as I squeezed the phone, trying to crush it in two. It rang several times before his voicemail picked up. I hung up then dialed again. Again it
went to voicemail. My need to strangle him was greater than my desire to beat his father into submission at the moment.
Instead of screaming at the top of my lungs, I dialed Kelton’s number. His voicemail picked up immediately. I tried one more time. Same result. I set my sights on Rumors. Maybe Kelton was there or Kade would know where Kelton was. As I headed for the “T,” fear supplanted my rage. My mind went to accident and death. I didn’t have the best luck when it came to people I loved. I shouldn’t have told Kelton I loved him. The word itself was a bad omen. I was beginning to see why Kelton was so freaked out by it.
21
Kelton
After hours of driving around Boston, I still couldn’t breathe. I turned on my phone as I pressed on the bell to the backdoor of Rumors. I had fifteen messages, all of which I was sure were from Chloe. I was the biggest fucking dick in the world, and not taking responsibility wasn’t in my nature. My father taught all of us boys to own up to our messes. We always had, but at the moment, I didn’t know how. I needed Kade’s advice. He would probably be stricter than my dad. I wanted that. No, I needed tough love. Or better yet, several punches to the face.
I banged on the buzzer again. My hands were still shaking worse than an eight-point-two earthquake.
Finally, the bar engaged, and Kade opened the door. “What the fuck happened to you? Why is your hand covered in dry blood?”
“You alone?” I wasn’t walking in if he wasn’t. It was late afternoon, and the nightshift would be coming in soon. I’d seen only Kade’s truck in the parking lot.
“Kross is here. We were hanging out in the office.”
I pushed past him, my excitement surging at the mention of Kross. He would probably knock me out once he heard the news. Please, my inner voice shouted. It might help to fire my neurons back into place. Light spilled out from the office into the dim hall. A stale odor penetrated my nostrils. My pulse raced the closer I got to the office. Telling Kade was going to be hard, and telling Kross was going to be just as difficult. He’d asked me for a couple of condoms. I’d been the one to tell him to be careful. Now look at me.
I crossed the threshold to find Kross lounging on the couch. I wanted to feel as relaxed as he appeared. Instead, my muscles were strung tighter than a violin string.
When he saw me he straightened. “What’s wrong? You look like death.”
Truth be told, I’d shed a few tears for fucking up my life and Chloe’s life.
Kade lumbered in then found a spot on the edge of the desk, projecting his usual persona: I’m listening, then I’ll beat the lights out of you.
I began to pace. “I fucked up. Like really.” I combed both hands through my hair and down the back of my neck, then punched the paneled wall. My already-bruised knuckles bled again as bones cracked. With the adrenaline running through me, I felt no pain.
“Unless you killed someone, it can’t be that bad,” Kade said easily.
I whirled around. “Chloe’s pregnant!”
Dead silence. Complete mind-hurting silence. I swung my gaze between my brothers. Both had gone pale.
Welcome to my hell.
I slid down the wall until I was sitting on the floor. Then I banged my head against the wall, rocking back and forth like I had when Karen died.
“Is it yours?” Kross asked.
I banged my head harder. I was embarrassed to say I hadn’t asked. All I’d done was lose my shit, bolting off the steps, ready to throw myself off a bridge.
“Well?” Kade asked. “Is it?”
“I don’t know.” I pulled my hair. “I just took off.”
“Can I punch him or should you?” Kross mashed his lips into a thin line as he came to stand over me. “How in the fuck didn’t you ask that question?”
“Why would she tell me she was pregnant if it weren’t mine?” Chloe never came to me for advice. “Not to mention, she would’ve said so immediately if I wasn’t the father. And I freaked, okay? I needed to think.” Part of me was afraid to know the answer.
“Did you use a condom?” Kross asked.
“Always. Fucking always.” Never had I had sex without one, even when I’d been drinking.
Kross sank down next to me. “I get why you flipped out. But you got to talk to her.” His tone had lightened.
Even though I was terrified out of my fucking mind, Kross was right. “I know,” I growled.
Kade’s vacant stare gave me the chills. I didn’t want to disappoint anyone in my family, particularly Kade. He’d taught us always to man up, never to lie. He gave us great advice, although he sometimes forgot to follow his own, and he’d been a good role model when our dad had been on missions.
“Man up,” Kade nearly snapped. “And do it before her old man cuts off your balls.”
The buzzer rang. With my luck, Jeremy Pitt was at the back door. Kade stalked out.
“That went well,” I muttered.
“He’ll have more to say later once he gets over the shock,” Kross said.
“I’ve never been more scared and fucked up in my life.” I dropped my head to my bent knees.
“I never told anyone this, but do you remember Ruby?” Kross asked.
I lifted my head. “Ruby Lewis? The girl you dated while we were at the Academy?”
“Yeah. Well, she thought she was pregnant. And I reacted like you. I ran for my life.”
“Dude, you better land a right hook to my jaw because I’m not sure I heard you correctly.”
Silence. Kross stared off into space.
“Well? Was she pregnant?” I didn’t know if I was more shocked that he hadn’t told us or that he could be a father. A chill sped down my spine. My brother, Kross, the one who took after Kade in so many ways, strong, protective, and cautious, was about to tell me…
Kross hung his arms over his knees. “No, she wasn’t. She’d been stressing over practicing for her ballet performance and was late. It was the first and only time I didn’t use a condom.”
I propped my head against the wall and grunted.
“Is there a chance that you’re not the father?” Kross asked. “Haven’t you two been dating other people?”
“I have.” I wasn’t sure about Chloe.
“Regardless, you can’t run from this. And I’ll tell Kade about Ruby when I’m ready.”
The practical side of me knew he was right. “I’m not telling Kade anything.” We never tattled on each other.
Lizzie’s voice trickled in. “Is he okay?”
I winced. “Shit.” I’d forgotten all about Davenport, her, and the meeting. “Don’t say anything.” I couldn’t tell her. Not until I was sure if I was the father.
“Problems with Lizzie?” Kross picked at the wristband of his watch.
“You have no idea.” It wasn’t that we had problems. I was the one with the problem.
I didn’t hear Kade respond to her.
“You guys still have that brother code, don’t you?” she asked.
Kade stayed silent.
Kross chuckled. I didn’t. I was on a roll letting people down and fucking up so bad that my sanity was on the brink of destruction. I squeezed my temples.
“There you are,” she said.
I was afraid to make eye contact.
Kross nudged me. “I’ll be in the bar if you need me,” he whispered in my ear.
Kade poked his head in. “Kel, make it quick. Then get to the bottom of the problem.”
“What problem?” Lizzie asked. “Other than you missed the appointment with Mr. Davenport. Why?”
Three, two, one. I raised my head slowly and found her pretty face wrinkled around the nose and eyes. In fact, her eyes were slits. Yeah, she was angry.
“Please sit down.” I patted the spot Kross had been in. It was better if she was sitting.
She hesitated before she joined me. Then she grabbed my right hand. “Why are your knuckles swollen and bleeding? It looks like you might’ve broken your hand.”
A small amount of pain was
starting to set in. Between punching the window and then the wall, I would guess she was probably spot on, considering I could barely move my hand. “I’m sorry about not being at Davenport’s. I…” If I told her, I would lose her. But I also couldn’t lie to her. No matter the consequences, she deserved the truth, whether I came off as an idiot or not. Plus, I wasn’t about to let her think I was running from her because she told me she loved me. Sure, when Chloe said those words I’d bolted, although not as fast as I had today. There was no doubt in my mind my feelings for Lizzie were strong, otherwise I would’ve run last night. Even sitting there with her touching me, my stomach had that butterfly feeling. I blew out a long breath. “Chloe’s pregnant.”
Her beautiful, rosy cheeks blanched. Her mouth opened and closed. Grabbing her earring, she popped to attention.
The butterflies morphed into raging piranhas. Schmuck, dick, ass, asshat, asswipe, fuckup. They all described me. I wasn’t the adult, or the protector, or the cautious one like Kross or Kade or even Kody. I was the one who threw caution to the wind, stomped on it, and then shoved it in the trash. Live for the moment had always been my motto. Hell, it still was, but I had to figure out how to temper my infallibility complex so I wouldn’t ruin more lives.
Planting both hands on the floor, I grunted when I put pressure on my right hand. Yep, something wasn’t right with it.
Tears filled her pretty blue-gray eyes. “That’s why she was at your place early this morning, huh?”
When I was on two feet, I lightly massaged my right hand. “I’m sorry.” It tore my insides to shreds to see her crying. I reached out to touch her.
She reared back with her hands raised. Regret and sadness washed over her. “I’m sorry too.”
Kade stuck his head in. “Chloe called on the club phone. She wants you to call her.”
Lizzie pivoted on her heel and brushed past Kade.
My heart plummeted to the floor. “Lizzie? Lizard.” I chased after her, something that was becoming a habit. “Please.”
Dare to Love (Maxwell #3) Page 19