The Blame Game_A Brook Brothers Novel

by Tracie Delaney

  Tomorrow. He’d go and see her tomorrow.

  * * *

  Jax stood outside Indie’s apartment but couldn’t bring himself to knock. Every time he raised his fist to rap on the door, his arm fell to his side as though yanked away by an invisible force.

  A couple of residents passed by and sent him strange looks before entering their own apartments. If he didn’t get a move on, they’d probably call the cops on him, thinking he was some sort of freak who loitered in the hallways, looking for trouble.

  With a deep breath, he knocked. No one came to the door. He knocked again in case she was in the bedroom or bathroom. Still nothing.

  “Indie?” he called out. “It’s Jax. We need to talk.”

  When she still didn’t answer, he figured she’d maybe spent New Year’s Eve with a friend, although in the time he’d known her, she hadn’t mentioned any close girlfriends.

  Cramming down disappointment, he got back in the elevator and left. With no idea where else to look, he gave up and went home. He’d go to her office building the next day. Hopefully, she would give him a warmer welcome than he’d given her.

  * * *

  Jax found himself hovering outside Indie’s place of work by eight the next morning. Luckily for him, he’d hired some great staff members who were more than capable of keeping things running in his absence, and Calum was around in case there were any issues. Calum had extended his leave of absence from work, despite Jax assuring him he’d be fine managing on his own. Calum had insisted—much to Jax’s relief. With Nate heading back to California in the morning and Cole’s senior officer begging him to get back to work, Jax had been worried about how he’d manage. Who’d have thought Calum would be the one to swoop in and save the day? Perhaps he had finally grown up.

  Jax joined the throngs of people pouring through the doors of the office block. He squeezed into the elevator and rode it up to Indie’s floor. His heart began galloping. Now that he’d decided to give them a chance to talk and see where things went, his worry had turned to whether she’d still want to. After the way he’d behaved on Christmas Eve, he wouldn’t blame her if she told him to fuck off. He hadn’t even texted her to say thanks for her gift, which now held pride of place on his bedroom wall.

  He walked down the hallway, glancing into offices and meeting rooms already full of workers who looked as though their day was half finished rather than just beginning.

  He reached Indie’s office door. Her assistant’s desk was empty, so he tentatively knocked and peered inside. She wasn’t there.

  “Can I help you?”

  Jax spun around. Standing behind him was a bespectacled man in a smart suit, carrying a briefcase. He gazed at Jax quizzically, one eyebrow raised, as he waited for an answer.

  “I’m looking for Indie Monroe.”

  “And you are?”

  “Jaxon Brook. I’m a friend of hers.”

  “Ah. So you’re Jax.”

  Jax frowned. He’d never seen this guy before in his life. “I’m sorry, but I don’t think we’ve ever met.”

  “I’m Malcolm Barringway. Indie’s boss.”

  “Oh. Great. Do you know what time she’ll be in?”

  “She won’t be in.”

  Jax’s frown deepened. “What do you mean? Is she sick?”

  “She’s taken some time off work.”

  Jax gave him an incredulous look and put a hand against the wall to steady himself. “For how long? Where’s she gone?”

  “I’m afraid I’m not at liberty to say.”

  “What the fuck does that mean?”

  Malcolm narrowed his eyes. “It means that Indie is still in my employ, and therefore, I have a duty to protect her.”

  “You don’t need to protect her from me,” Jax said, his voice rising along with his anger. “I’m her boyfriend.”

  “From what Indie told me, you’re no longer in a relationship. And if Indie wanted you to know where she was, she would have told you herself.” He stepped to one side. “I don’t appreciate your attitude, Mr. Brook. I’d like you to leave.”

  Jax drew himself up to his full height, even though he already towered over Barringway. “I’m going nowhere until I find out where Indie is.”

  “Then you give me no alternative but to call the police and have you arrested for trespassing.”

  Sanctimonious prick. “I only want to talk to her. Please tell me where she is.”

  Malcolm shook his head, determination in the set of his jaw. Jax let out a frustrated sigh. He wasn’t going to find out what he needed from Indie’s boss, so he’d just have to enlist Cole’s help. He jabbed a finger in Barringway’s face. “You hear from her, you tell her to call me. Tell her it’s urgent.”

  He pushed past Barringway to find that Indie’s assistant had arrived, her mouth hanging open as she watched the scene in front of her. Jax glared at her menacingly. “Do you know where Indie is?”

  Wide-eyed, she shook her head.

  Jax left Indie’s floor, and by the time he reached the street, the sound of blood rushing through his ears had given him a headache. He leaned against the wall outside, breathing in the fresh air as he tried to figure out his next move. His heart burned as though he had a red-hot coal in his chest. He’d been so certain that he held all the cards—that he was the one in control, and the minute he made up his mind to forgive Indie, she would be there, waiting. Except she hadn’t waited. He’d done such a good job of convincing her they had no future that she’d taken leave of her job and fucked off to God only knew where. Like a man being forced to the gallows, Jax trudged down the street, his body heavy with disappointment. Searching for her would be virtually impossible.

  “Jax! Mr. Brook. Wait, please.”

  Jax turned around to find Indie’s assistant running toward him. She drew to a halt and rested a hand on his shoulder as she tried to catch her breath.

  “Sorry,” she gasped. “I thought I’d lost you.” She sucked in another couple of lungfuls of air before thrusting a piece of paper at him.

  “What’s this?” he said.

  “Indie’s flight details. She’s leaving JFK for LA at eleven this morning. If you hurry, you might catch her. I don’t know her plans when she gets to California, so you need to go. Now.”

  Jax’s eyes widened. He looked down at the piece of paper. Sure enough, there was a flight number written on it. He raised his head. “Why didn’t you tell me this before?”

  “Malcolm. He’ll fire me if he knows I’ve given you that.” She raised her hand, and a cab drew into the curb. “Go. Get in.”

  “Thank you. I owe you.” Jax jumped into the cab. “JFK terminal four. Please hurry.”

  The driver met his gaze in the rear-view mirror and rolled his eyes. He was probably told “go faster” regularly—an instruction that, in New York, was futile. That morning’s rush-hour traffic seemed more oppressive than normal as they weaved their way through the Manhattan streets. Once they got past the Midtown Tunnel, they made pretty good progress. And then they hit I-678, where traffic ground to a halt.

  Jax cursed under his breath. He stared at his watch as the seconds, then minutes, ticked by with them inching forward.

  “Accident,” the cab driver said, pointing ahead.

  “Just great,” Jax muttered. At nine fifteen, they were still five miles out. He was going to miss her, and then she’d be gone forever. Shit, shit, shit.

  And then, as if someone had paved the way, the traffic cleared. The cab driver put his foot down, and ten minutes later, they pulled into terminal four. Jax spilled out onto the concourse and, dragging his leg behind him, ran into the building. Nine thirty. He scanned the area and didn’t see her anywhere. She wasn’t at the check-in desks. He set off toward security. He wouldn’t be able to go airside without a ticket, but he might see her in the line.

  His eyes darted everywhere, searching for her unique toffee-colored hair. And then he spotted her—on the other side of security. He called out her name, but sh
e disappeared from view.

  “Fucking hell!”

  He hauled his ass back to the check-in area, his leg in absolute agony. He’d probably done some serious damage to the barely healed bones, but he couldn’t worry about that. All that mattered was getting to Indie.

  He staggered to a halt in front of the Delta ticketing desk. “I need a ticket,” he said, tugging his credit card from his wallet. He pushed it across the counter.

  “Where to, sir?”

  “Anywhere. Whatever you have. I need to get airside.”

  She arched a perfectly plucked eyebrow. “You don’t know where you’re headed?”

  Jax refrained from slamming his fist down on the counter. “I have to get to my girlfriend before she moves to California, and I never see her again. I just watched her clear security. Please, you have to hurry. She’ll be boarding in less than an hour.”

  The ticketing agent broke out into a huge grin and turned to her coworker. “Daria, it’s like that episode of Friends. Do you remember? When Ross chased after Rachel when she was moving to Paris.”

  Jax ground his teeth but kept his mouth shut. Pissing her off wouldn’t get him a ticket any faster. He forced a smile. “Please, can you help me out?”

  “Sure thing, honey.” She patted his hand. “I’m all for a romantic gesture.” She tapped on her keyboard. “Let’s see. What do we have available?”

  Jax’s hands clenched into fists as the woman scanned down her screen with her finger. His head would explode if she went any fucking slower.

  “Ah, here you go. I got Atlanta. Departing eleven twenty-five. Two hundred twelve dollars, honey.”

  “That’s fine,” Jax said.

  “I need to see a photo ID.”

  Jax dug his driver’s license from his wallet and gave it to her. More tapping. He glanced at his watch and shifted his weight onto his unbroken leg. The other one was killing him.

  After a few more painful minutes scraped by, she handed him a boarding pass.

  “I’ve checked you in, honey. You can go straight to security.”

  “Thank you.” He shoved his wallet into the back pocket of his jeans and went as fast as he could back to the security area. By the time he reached the front of the line, he’d lost another thirty minutes. He shot through to the other side and stopped in front of the first set of departure screens. He confirmed which gate her flight was leaving from. Just his goddamn luck. It was at the far end of the terminal.

  His leg throbbed like an absolute bitch, but he continued to speed toward the gate. Oh God, he couldn’t see her. Where was she? Where the hell was she?

  “Indie,” he yelled. “Indie Monroe?”

  A few nearby travelers standing in line gave him odd looks. The rest ignored him as though engaging in eye contact would make them as crazy as he clearly was.

  “Indie!” he hollered.

  And then he saw her near the front of the line. He pushed past the waiting passengers, ignoring their grumbles of complaint.

  He touched her shoulder. “Indie.”

  Her head spun around. “Jax?” A deep frown pulled her brows together. “What are you doing here?”

  “Please don’t go,” he said.

  “I’m about to board,” she said, her head rotating between him and the ground agent, who’d begun scanning boarding passes.

  “Five minutes. That’s all I ask.” He grabbed hold of her hand, and when she didn’t resist, he led her over to the seating area.

  “What’s going on?”

  “You can’t leave.”

  She gave him a helpless look. “I have to. There’s nothing left for me here. I need to clear my head, Jax. I can’t stay in the city knowing that’s where you are. I know you can’t forgive me for what I did, and I don’t blame you. But to stay would be too cruel a punishment, even for a bitch like me.”

  “You’re not a bitch, Indie. You’re the woman I love.”

  Before she could respond or push him away, he took her face in his hands and crushed his lips to hers. The weeks since he’d been able to touch her melted away as she gave in to his kiss. He drew back when he felt dampness from her tears on his cheeks.

  “Oh, baby, don’t cry.”

  “I’m so sorry.” Her body trembled as she tried to hold back her tears. She dug around in her purse, eventually locating a Kleenex. She dabbed it to her face, but when Jax tried to take over and comfort her, she drew back, out of his reach.

  His chest ached at her rejection of him. He’d screwed this up so badly. “I never should have sent you away on Christmas Eve.”

  She sniffed and dabbed the Kleenex to her nose. “You were so cold, Jax. And while I understand why, you broke me.”

  Her words cracked his heart wide open, and his head swam with half-formed regrets and sorrow. “I shouldn’t have waited until now to say what I should have said then. I love you so much. I can’t live without you, so here I am, Indie. Begging you to forgive me.”

  She rubbed her palms up and down her upper arms and stared at the ground. Jax’s insides clenched with fear. He’d lost her. And he deserved it.

  Eventually, she lifted her chin and met his worried gaze. “There has to be trust for a relationship to work, and I don’t know how you’ll ever trust me again. Nor do I know whether I can trust you. How do I know that I won’t commit some other indiscretion and you’ll push me away again?”

  He stilled her hands and pressed them between both of his. Maintaining eye contact, he kept his expression open instead of showing her his panic. “Do you remember when I told you that you were worth fighting for?”

  She remained mute but nodded.

  “This is me, Indie, fighting for you with everything I’ve got. I fucked up. You fucked up. But if you give me—give us—another chance, I will never let you down again.”

  After a delay that made his heart thump against his ribcage, she flung her arms around his neck as more tears came. After minutes passed, they finally broke apart.

  “Take me home, Jax,” she said.

  “I will, but first, we need to embark on a dull and frustrating mission.”

  She smiled. “And what might that be?”

  “We need to speak to the crew member over there and see about having your luggage removed from the plane.”

  He held out his hand. Laughing, she took it.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  After a long wait to retrieve Indie’s luggage from the plane, they finally left the airport. Rather than taking her straight home, Jax asked the cab to stop outside a coffee shop down the street from the hotel. He bought two caramel macchiatos and a couple slices of lemon pound cake. Setting them on the table, he almost fell into the chair. That day could have gone either way, and they had a shitload to work through. But knowing she’d decided to give them a chance made it difficult for him to contain his happiness.

  “Pound cake?” she said, her lips twitching. “Are you trying to make me fat?”

  Her teasing made his insides warm. “Who says one of them is for you? I haven’t eaten all day.”

  She wagged her finger, giving him a mock look of castigation. She reached for one of the plates and pulled it toward her. “Uh-uh, mister. I might regret it later when it feels like a slab of concrete has settled in my stomach, but I love pound cake.”

  Indie broke off a piece and slipped it into her mouth. She made an appreciative sound at the back of her throat before reaching for another. He couldn’t drag his eyes away from her slender neck as she swallowed.

  “So, what happens now?” he asked. He needed to know where she was and make sure her agreement to come home with him wasn’t out of some sense of duty or a hasty decision she’d made in the heat of the moment.

  “You mean with us?”

  “Yeah.”

  She brushed some crumbs to the floor. “I guess my main concern is whether your brothers will accept me after what I did.”

  Jax set his jaw. “It doesn’t matter what they think. It’s what I think that m
atters.”

  She shook her head. “It does matter. If we’re all going to live under the same roof, then we need to find a way to get along.”

  Jax’s eyes widened. “You still want to move in?”

  Indie’s brow wrinkled, and she bit her lip. “Oh… have you changed your mind?”

  He vigorously shook his head. “Absolutely not. But after what I’ve put you through the last few weeks, I figured you had.”

  Her lips twitched. “So when I said take me home, where were you going to take me?”

  “Your apartment. I figured you’d want some space.”

  She giggled. “That wouldn’t be easy. I gave it up. I’m officially homeless.”

  Jax leaned across the table and captured her lips in a brief kiss. “As long as I have breath in my lungs, you’ll always have a home with me.” He got to his feet, his hand extended. “Let’s go home, baby.”

  Epilogue

  “Sorry I didn’t make opening night,” Zane said as Calum swung his beer bottle by the neck before touching it against Zane’s.

  Calum took a long pull. “No bother.”

  “Everything go okay?”

  He nodded. “Better than okay. You know, I think my brother might actually make a go of this. He’s already showing a seventy-percent occupancy rate for the next few months.”

  Zane whistled through his teeth. “Fuck me.”

  “No, thanks.” Calum grinned. “You’re not my type.”

  Zane rolled his eyes. “You’d be lucky to have me.”

  “That’s not what your last girlfriend said.”

  Zane flipped his middle finger in the air. “Fucker.”

  Calum laughed. “Takes one to know one.”

  “Where is Jax anyway?”

  Calum shrugged. “He said he had something to do this morning, although”—he checked his watch—“I’d have expected him back by now. He’s on bar duty at three, and if he thinks I’m covering, he’s got rocks in his head. I’ve got a hot date tonight.”