The Halo Series Boxed Set

by Kimberly Knight

  “Why?” my wife asked.

  “I’m not sure,” Edna admitted. “But your parents were really big in the community, and I imagine your father wanted to keep up a good front.”

  “So, he cared about his image more than my mother and me?”

  “Sadly, I think so.”

  “Why did she stay with him?” Nicole asked. “She didn’t need to stay in California. She could have called us, and we would have helped her.”

  Edna leaned forward and placed her hand over Nicole’s. “I asked her the same question, but when you get to be our age, it’s hard to start over. She knew that if she could make the will and give you what she could, then it would all be worth it. She wanted you to have at least half of what she’d sacrificed her life for.”

  My throat started to close. “I would have loved a relationship with my mother more than any amount of money.”

  “She knew that, honey.” Edna patted my hand. “But leaving would have caused more pain, and your father wouldn’t have let her have anything.”

  “Except they were married. There has to be some law or something that ensures he couldn’t have hung her out to dry,” Nic stated.

  “Yes, but Doug would have prolonged the divorce for years, and since Denise was getting older, she felt it was easier to stay.”

  “I would have provided for her,” I whispered.

  “She knew that too, but she wanted to protect you.”

  “Protect me from what?”

  “She told me there are things you don’t know,” Edna replied.

  “What things?” I asked.

  Edna shrugged. “She wouldn’t tell me.”

  “She mentioned something about hiding things from me in her letter.” I looked over at Nicole, and she arched a brow.

  “How do we find out what she was hiding?” Nic asked.

  “Some things people take to their graves, honey,” Edna replied.

  We finished our drinks with Edna, and Nic and I walked back across the street. We’d gone to Edna’s for clarity, and now I was even more confused. My entire life, I knew my father wore the pants in the family, but I thought that was because he was the breadwinner. My mother never worked a day in her life that I knew of. I never realized that the control had gone as far as it apparently had. What father would prevent a mother from going to her son’s wedding?

  So many more questions swirled in my head as I opened the door to my parents’ house. The moment I took in the stark-white living room, I crumpled to the floor, tears streaming down my face. For so long I didn’t feel love from my parents, but in reality, it was my father alone who didn’t love me.

  My last message to my mother came flooding back to me. I was angry, pissed, and fuming. I was hurting. And I’d had no idea that my mother was hurting too.

  And I would never be able to fix it.

  I shut the door behind me. When I turned around, I saw Avery crouched on the hardwood floor, sobbing. I moved to him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders as his sobs shook his entire body.

  “I’m here,” I whispered.

  No words came from Avery’s lips, just more weeping. I’d had a feeling that it was only a matter of time before he broke.

  “Just let it out.”

  I didn’t know what else to say. His father had apparently prevented his mother from being in his life. I couldn’t even imagine. My parents were like my best friends. My father was the one who helped me realize that Avery was the man for me. How could Avery’s dad be so cruel? And why? I was glad I’d never met the guy. If I had, I probably would have given him a piece of my mind.

  We stayed on the floor for a long time. I didn’t know how long, but by the time his tears stopped, my knees were sore from kneeling on the hardwood floor. “Do you want me to drive us back to the room?” I offered.

  “I just need time to think,” Avery replied, wiping his tears.

  “Let’s get you off the floor and onto the couch then.”

  “What the fuck is up with all the white?” he snapped as he stood.

  “I don’t know, baby.” I really didn’t. Based on what I’d recently learned about his mother, maybe it was the way she viewed life without her son. The thought crushed me. My life had brightened the moment I met Avery on our first cruise, and I couldn’t imagine him not in it.

  Avery sighed and fell backward onto the couch. “I’m just going to stay here.”

  “Okay. I’m going to see if there’s water or something in the fridge.”

  I left Avery and went into the kitchen. Doug Scott was probably rolling in his grave at the sight of his son laying on his couch—touching his property—in his house. I was actually smiling at the thought as I opened the fridge. Fuck his dad. I’d assumed I was going to get us bottles of water, but then I saw a bottle of Stella and decided that my husband needed a beer. We’d both had a drink with Edna, and I knew Avery needed more than a beer, but that would come later when we were back in the hotel room.

  When I walked back into the living room, Avery had his arm across his face as though he was shielding the light from his eyes.

  “Are you sleeping?” I whispered.

  “No,” he mumbled against his arm.

  “I brought you a beer.”

  “Thanks.”

  I set the bottle on the table. “It’s here if you want it. I’m going to check out the backyard.”

  “Okay.”

  When I got outside, I realized there was a view of the ocean from a part of the yard. It was amazing. The backyard was even more spectacular than I thought it was from the little I saw through the kitchen window. I loved the landscape, the dry heat hitting my skin, and all the flowers I’d assumed his mother had planted.

  I took a few sips of my own beer and took in the view. When I turned around to go back into the house, I realized there was a big rectangular box of dirt—like a large platform for a vegetable garden. I stared at it for a moment, trying to determine if that was it or not. Were there dead bodies buried under the dirt? Denise obviously feared him. Was it there because Doug was some sort of killer? I clearly watched too many true crime TV shows.

  Reaching into my back pocket, I pulled out my phone to Google what the dirt box could be, but saw that I had a missed text from Brooke:

  How’s it going?

  I replied back: Met with an attorney today. His mom’s will left him her assets. I’ll call you tomorrow. Avery’s having a hard time right now.

  I opened up the browser on my phone and typed in dirt box. Nothing looked like what I was looking at. Most of it was boxes for gardens.

  Brooke: We’re thinking about you guys. Please let us know if we can do anything.

  Me: I will. Thank you.

  Brooke: When’s the funeral?

  Me: We haven’t talked about it.

  Brooke: Okay. Keep us updated. Jimmy and Jane have been asking.

  Me: I will.

  Just as I was about to enter the house, a thought came to me, and I quickly searched for what I thought the dirt box might be. I smiled when I realized I was correct. It was a bocce ball court. I’d never known a person to have that in their backyard. Maybe they played to unwind. It made me feel a little better as I got the thought of Avery’s father being a murderer out of my head.

  I walked into the living room and heard a soft snore coming from the couch. Letting Avery be, I decided to check out the upstairs since we hadn’t done so earlier. I quietly went up the staircase. The first room I went in seemed to be a guest bedroom. The bedding was white, and again, there were no pictures. If Edna hadn’t come over, I would question if his parents even lived in this house.

  The next room was a bathroom. There were two more guest bedrooms and then the master. Every room seemed to have the same décor style: white. White. White. White. I didn’t get it. Curiosity got to me, and I opened the closet. I expected to see more white. Instead, there was every color on the color wheel in various clothing styles. Dresses, tops, and pants filled the huge walk-in closet.
It was apparent this was his mother’s closet.

  Was looking in a dead woman’s closet snooping? Eventually, we would have to go through everything, so I figured it wasn’t snooping. I wasn’t planning on taking anything like Mr. Slade had said, but I still wanted to look at all the pretty things I would never be able to afford.

  I grabbed a few dresses and realized that they were designer brands: Prada, Gucci, Valentino. I had no clue what the dresses were worth, but I recognized the names. I held a few up in front of a full-length mirror, imagining what they would look like on me. They were beautiful. There were diamond earrings, bracelets, necklaces, trays upon trays of stunning jewelry, and the wannabe princess in me understood why Denise stayed with a man like Doug Scott. I didn’t know all the details, or who his mother truly was, but I figured that if you lived a life with that much wealth, it would be hard to leave and start over like Edna had said.

  Looking at everything in the closet, I realized all the color didn’t match the rest of the house, and Denise clearly had taste. Even her shoes were designer: Chanel, Prada, Gucci, the infamous Louboutins. Same with the handbags: Chanel, Louis Vuitton, Kate Spade.

  I’d always wanted a Louis Vuitton, and that was what tempted me to open the bag. I opened it, wanting to smell the expensive leather. The satchel appeared to be empty until I opened the inside zipper and found a piece of paper wrapped around a key.

  Chase - #273

  The key was long and slender. Was it a key to a safety deposit box at a bank? Was Avery’s mother hiding this from his father? I felt like a detective, or like I was about to go on a scavenger hunt.

  I decided to put my snooping to rest. Avery should be the one to do it or at least be with me while we went through their stuff. If I’d found a key in his mom’s closet, what might be in his dad’s office?

  When I got back downstairs, Avery was still asleep. The sun hadn’t set, but I knew it was getting late because my stomach had started to growl. I didn’t want to wake him up, but it was time to grab dinner and head back to the hotel.

  Crouching beside my husband, I shook his arm. “Hey, let’s go grab some dinner.”

  He woke right away. “What time is it?”

  “Not sure, but I’m hungry.”

  Avery sat up. “Yeah, let’s go.”

  I grabbed his full beer. “Want to take this with us?”

  “Don’t think that’s legal.”

  “I’ll figure it out. No sense in wasting a good beer.”

  There were no cups or tumblers with lids in sight, but I was able to find a bowl with a lid. I poured the beer into it while Avery grabbed the others from the fridge.

  “We should ask Edna what day trash day is, so we can toss all this food,” he suggested.

  “Yeah, we can do that tomorrow. We should talk to her about the funeral too.”

  “Right. The funeral. Thank God my mom had a friend across the street. I would have even more questions than I do now.”

  I nodded. “I know. I bet they were best friends.”

  Avery smiled. “I hope so. I like Edna.”

  “Me too.”

  I couldn’t pinpoint it, but Edna reminded me of someone. I didn’t know who, but I liked her a lot. I was sad to think that she’d lost her best friend. I would be devastated if anything were to happen to Brooke.

  Out of the top ten restaurants listed on the internet in Santa Barbara, we chose a taco stand that looked like it had killer tacos by all the good reviews and pictures. When we pulled up to the address, it was at a batting cage.

  “What the—?” I questioned.

  “There’s a line,” Avery advised.

  “That’s a good sign. Just wasn’t expecting it to be at a batting cage.”

  “Kill two birds with one stone.” Avery winked and chuckled.

  “You want to hit a few rounds?”

  Avery opened his door. “Wouldn’t hurt to let some frustration out with a bat.”

  “For sure.” I smiled and opened my door. I’d never swung a bat before, but if Avery said it would help, it probably would.

  Avery and I both ordered the Triple Play. It was three tacos of our choice. I got a chicken, a fried shrimp, and a fried cod taco, and Avery got a carne asada, a grilled shrimp, and a fried cod taco.

  “California has the best tacos,” he stated around a bite.

  I had to agree. I didn’t know why, but the tacos were the tastiest I’d ever had. “Even the cod. I was hesitant about a fish taco.”

  My husband grinned at me.

  “What?” I asked before taking another bite.

  “I’d rather have your pink taco.”

  I laughed. It was good Avery was making a joke. We needed it. “That can be arranged.”

  He took another bite of his taco. “Good.”

  While Avery took a few turns inside the cage, I watched as the stress rolled off of his body and into the bat and ball. Observing him made me wonder why he hadn’t wanted to go pro. I knew he loved the game. When Avery and Easton started playing softball, it was as though a piece of Avery’s puzzle was put back into place. He radiated happiness, and he was good. Really good.

  Hit after hit, Avery’s smile grew. So did mine. I hoped that swinging the bat would allow him to temporarily forget why we were here. If I could have, I would’ve taken his pain away, but I had a feeling that this wouldn’t be our only trip to Santa Barbara. I just hoped it wasn’t to go to court and fight some unknown person for what Avery’s mother had left him. That thought reminded me that I had a mystery key in my handbag, but seeing my husband’s smiling face stopped me from bringing it up. I wasn’t sure if he’d be pissed, and I couldn’t take that moment of joy away from him. Still, I hated keeping a secret from him, even if it was small.

  “That felt good,” Avery stated as he came up to where I stood behind the batting cage, watching him.

  I smiled. “Good.”

  He wrapped a sweaty arm across my shoulders, and we started to walk toward the car. “You know, the beach is about a block away. You wanna take an evening stroll in the sand before I feast on your pink taco?”

  I giggled. “I’d love to do both.”

  We got into the car, and then Avery drove us to the beach. After parking, we got out of the car and walked to the sand. There was a slight breeze, and the temperature had dropped a few degrees. It was still nice though. Not humid, not cold, but perfect, and the complete opposite of New York City this time of year.

  If only all of this were under better circumstances.

  I woke up to a text from Easton: How’s it going?

  I stared at the text, not sure what to reply. My mother really did love me, and I wasn’t able to tell her goodbye. My father was even worse than I thought he was because he’d prevented my mother from doing anything.

  Me: Mom left a will. We have to wait to see if my father had one. It must be filed with the court within thirty days by the trustee, whoever the fuck that is. But first, we’re planning the funeral today.

  Easton: Let me know if you need anything. We’re all here for you.

  Me: Thank you, and I know you all are.

  Nic was still sleeping, so I crawled out of bed, took a leak, and then came back. Not wanting to face reality, I climbed back into the bed and snuggled close to my wife. My lips brushed against her neck, working my way down to the top of her bare shoulder.

  “Mmmm,” she moaned. “It’s like our honeymoon all over again.”

  I grinned against her skin. “Yeah, it is, and you’re naked,” I pointed out.

  “What are you going to do about it?”

  Reaching down, I ran my fingers between the lips of her pussy, feeling her arousal as it coated my fingers. “You’re already ready for me?”

  She moaned her response and spread her legs. Without hesitation, I flung the covers off of us and positioned myself behind her, slid my bottom arm under her neck and lifted her leg slightly as I sank into my wife. Our mouths moved together as though we were starving for each
other. My thrusts quickened as I held her open, not wasting any time as we both raced for the orgasms we were chasing. Nic panted as our mouths stayed together and I began kneading her breast, feeling her rock hard nipple as I rubbed the peak. Her hand went between her legs, and I broke our kiss to see that she’d started to rub her clit.

  “Fuck,” I groaned.

  I rocked into her, feeling her fingers rubbing the side of my cock with each thrust as she circled her clit. As I picked up speed, the hand that was rubbing her clit wrapped around my neck and held on. I took over, working her clit with my fingers and kneading her breast with the other hand that was still under her. Nic brought her mouth to mine again, and my hips slowed for only a moment while I savored the taste of my wife.

  Nic broke our mouths apart as she panted in pleasure, and I began thrusting hard again. She turned more onto her side, and I held onto her butt cheek, pumping and groaning as I got closer and closer to coming. Sex with Nicole was a high I never wanted to come down from. She was made for me. Every fucking inch.

  “I’m close,” I groaned.

  “Me, too,” Nic panted.

  “Hold on, baby,” I instructed.

  Right away, Nic grabbed the side of the bed as I ran my hands over every inch of her. My mouth was on her skin, kissing her neck, her shoulder, anything I could reach. I was in a frenzy, wanting to consume every delicious inch of my wife. She turned onto her back slightly and reached down to her clit, rubbing in circles to match my thrusts.

  Nic shook, her orgasm squeezing my dick, and I lost myself in her, spilling my seed deep inside her. As we came down from our climaxes, we kissed, her arms around my neck and me on top of her.

  “I love you,” I told her against her lips. “More than anything.”

  “I love you too. More than yesterday.”

  “I have something to tell you,” Nicole stated as we ate breakfast at a local diner.