Chapter 32: The Renegade Billionaire: Chapter 32

“You know they’re coming back,” Sage says. He’s been following me around the inn all day. He’s worse than a dog with a bone.

It’s only been a week since Braxton and Grey returned to California to sort out whatever messes his father caused, though my heart says it’s been much longer than that.

He calls multiple times a day, but I don’t know how to tell him that it was his father who helped ruin my life. The fact that they can’t locate him is what keeps the fear flowing through my bloodstream faster than cyanide.

“Madi,” Savvy calls from somewhere in the house. “We know you’re here, and we came with boxes, but you’re also not getting rid of us, so show yourself now.”

“Please,” Clover adds. “Elle is on FaceTime too.”

“Ugh,” I groan, then immediately the guilt hits because I haven’t been to see Elle or her baby all week and she’s having a horribly difficult time getting around.

Her birthing story scared the hell out of me. Why didn’t anyone ever tell us that you could potentially tear from belly button to butthole? I might be exaggerating, slightly, but still, it feels like something we should know.

“What did you expect? You’ve been avoiding them all week too.” Sage tsks. I do love the kid, but sometimes I want to tell him to mind his own dang business.

“I’m not avoiding anyone. Your uncle dropped a bomb that we have to move into a rental house so he can get three crews in here to gut the place. And he never even consulted me.”

Sage shrugs as if it’s no big deal. “He wanted it done as quickly as possible.”

I swallow a spiky ball of emotion that cuts with jagged edges of glass going down. Does he want it done quickly for us, or is he just trying to get the hell out of here as fast as he can?

He hasn’t asked me specifically if I took the pill, but he reminds me every day that he supports me.

Why hasn’t he asked? Why haven’t I offered up the information?

“There you are,” Savvy says. “You know, he hired movers to pack up all this stuff and put it in storage for you.” She drops the flat boxes in her hands to the floor.

“Say hi to Elle.” Clover shoves the phone in my face.

“Just because I can’t be there helping doesn’t mean I’m not helping.” Elle holds up a piece of paper that has tears welling quickly. “It’s the kitchen. And it will look exactly like this by the time we’re done.”

She’s kept everything that made that room feel reminiscent of my grandmother, and it’s overwhelming. All of this is overwhelming.

“Sage,” Pops calls from downstairs. “Come help me.”

Sage looks from me to the door. He’s been my shadow since his uncles left, and I can’t tell if it’s because he’s worried about me or them, but I give him a reassuring nod, and he hustles out of the room.

Savvy shuts and locks the door behind him. “Spill it,” she demands.

I don’t want to lie to my friends, but I don’t know how to share all of this either.

“Mads, don’t make me come over there,” Elle says.

“You’re not going anywhere, woman. You’ve got stitches holding your hoo-ha together,” Cian growls from somewhere behind the camera.

“Out,” she demands. Cian drops his face into view and gives me a scolding glare.

“Listen to what she says, Madi. I mean it. She’s not getting out of this bed.”

I nod, then crumple to the ground.

“Aw, feck, Mads. Do I gotta kill him? I was just getting used to the fecker.”

I laugh, and snot forms at the tip of my nose. “No,” I say, wiping it away with my sleeve. “He’s fine.”

“Uh-huh. Fine. I know what that means. I’m married, remember?” He kisses Elle’s forehead, takes the baby, and exits the frame.

“Spill, Madi. What’s going on?” Elle uses her best mom voice on me, and I crack.

I tell them about the broken condom and about the Plan B. But it’s explaining that it was Braxton’s father that published all those lies about me that stuns the room to silence.

It’s Savvy who pulls herself together first. “Okay, I need to repeat this out loud because it’s not computing in my head. When Harry Balls drove drunk into that tree and shattered his collarbone in three places, then told everyone that you were driving when you weren’t even in the state.” She stands and paces the room, not unlike her archenemy Grey. “You’re telling me that the person he fed those lies to in an attempt to save himself, his scholarship, and his football career was Braxton’s dad?”

I nod. The tears are coming so fast I can’t keep my face wiped dry.

“And it’s his dad who owns the Whisperloop that was doing those shitty exposés blaming all the college girlfriends for the professional football players’ bad decisions.”

I nod again.

“The same man who got sued by you and fourteen other young women?”

“I think we’re all on the same page here, Sav.” Clover approaches me as you would a caged animal, and I cry harder.

“Oh my God,” Elle murmurs. “Do you think that’s how Pops met Ace? He did start coming around after the trial ended.”

“He was always so worried about you.” Savvy’s still pacing, and it’s making me dizzy. “That also explains why Pops would allow him to come here. He must have been keeping an eye on you. Pops even said Montgomery’s father-in-law gave a character statement condemning him—Ace befriended Pops at the trial.”

Suddenly it all makes sense. Why Ace was so willing to help Pops with the inn. Why Ace sent Braxton here. It’s all some way of easing their guilty consciences.

“Do you think Braxton knew?” Clover’s words carry a hint of anger that I wasn’t expecting, but I’m so lost in the question I don’t give her tone much thought.

“I—I don’t know. I don’t know anything anymore.”

“Are you sure about this?” The sadness in Pops’ expression rips my wounds wide open, but I’m too hurt and betrayed to trust any of my instincts right now.

If Pops kept this from me, I know he thought he was doing what’s right, but my trust in everyone is hanging on by a thread, and I need to sort through my feelings before I address any of it. And I can’t do that here, where everyone is watching my every move as though I’m some fragile doll.

Moving into Clover’s guestroom, even temporarily, will give me time to think, and maybe to grieve something that may not have been real.

“I’m sure.” My voice wavers, and I blink back tears. “You and Sage will be fine here in the rental until they get back. I just need some time to think is all.”

He searches my face, but eventually relents. It’s good because I can’t back down—I won’t. Not this time. Not when I don’t know who to trust or what my truth is anymore.

Somewhere along the way, I lost myself in little boxes made by other people. It’s time I found myself and my voice again.

“He won’t like it,” Pops warns. “I don’t either.”

“My vote is also a big fat nay,” Sage says from his slumped position on the porch steps.

“No one has to like it, but they do have to respect it. I just need time.”

“I get it.” Pops sullenly crosses his arms over his chest. “I wish you’d just tell me why. I can’t fix what I don’t know is broken.”

My smile feels dim, but I plaster it on anyway. “This isn’t for you to fix, Pops. I love you. It’s not as if I’m skipping town. I simply need some time to sort through what’s on my mind.”

“Promise you’ll come home.” His voice cracks, and it’s almost enough to make me put my needs aside, but that’s what I’ve been doing my entire life. I can’t do that anymore. Not if I want to have a future, or any kind of life worth living.

“I promise,” I say to appease him. “Regardless of what happens, you’re my grandfather, and I’ll always be here for you.”

His frown deepens, and it’s mixed with pain I’m only now coming to understand.

“I’m still working at the Chug,” Sage says, as if I’d take that away from him.

“Good. I’m glad.”

“They’re coming home tomorrow, you know.” Sage, for once, sounds his age, but I know it’s fear that’s making him snarky. “Are we not supposed to tell Uncle Braxton where you are?”

“No, Sage. I’d never ask you to lie for me.”

His face lights up with devilish intent that tugs on the strings of every emotion I’m attempting to sort through. “But we don’t have to make it easy for him either. Whatever he did, I know he’ll fix it though. You know that, right?”

“I know he’ll try. I’ll see you guys soon. Sage, don’t let Pops cook anything. Pops, don’t corrupt Sage.”

They both stare at me with matching expressions of confusion and sadness, but for my own sanity, I close my eyes and count to ten, and when I open them, I walk away.

“Sweetie,” Clover says through my closed door. Well, it’s her door. I’ve confiscated her guest room.

I hear it creak open, and I bury my face under the pillows. I have no idea what time it is because I knocked the clock to the floor two days ago, or was it three days ago?

The edge of the bed dips, then she pulls the pillow away and brushes my dirty hair off my face.

“He’s sitting in his truck in the driveway.”

I don’t ask who. I know it’s Braxton. He’s been here every day this week.

“You have to talk to him eventually. Savvy said he’s losing his mind with worry, and you’re not returning anyone’s phone calls.”

It’s true. The second I fell into this room, memories swam up from the darkness, trying to drown me. It doesn’t help that since the moment I met Braxton, he’s felt like my one true match.

I’ve gone years avoiding the feelings from long ago. I’d gotten to a place of numbness, and then as soon as Braxton entered my life, making me feel and live and laugh, the pain of betrayal came crashing back too.

I guess that’s the risk of allowing love in—pain finds a way in too.

Is it fair to blame him? No. But it was his father who pushed me into a depression so deep the only way to survive was to shut out everything that hurt me, and I have nowhere else to push that blame at the moment.

“Madison,” he bellows from downstairs. I sit upright and glare at Clover. She never, ever leaves her door unlocked. She’s too scared of everything that moves to do it, so when I hear his voice getting closer, I know she unlocked it for him.

“Sorry,” she says sheepishly while backing up to the door. “You need to talk to him. The guy hasn’t slept since he got home.”

I frown. I wasn’t expecting him to make himself sick. When I said I needed space, it was so I could figure myself out.

A quick glance at my four-day-old pajamas makes me wince. I haven’t been adulting very well.

“I know you’re in there. And I know you needed space. But you have to talk to me, sweetheart. I have no idea what I did wrong, but fuck, I’ll do whatever it takes to make it right. Is it because I left?” His voice fades before coming close again. “We talked about that. I thought we were on the same page.” He sounds…broken, and my stomach tightens. “We’ve given Ace’s attorney all the information he’ll need that ties Alistair to the fire in Maine. We should have a case against him by the time he turns up.”

“Just talk to him, Mads. Maybe he didn’t know either, but you won’t know until you talk to him.”

“But what if this was all a game, some way to make up for the mistakes of his father? What if all he wants is Ace’s company and he can’t get it without making up for what happened to me?”

“What if what he wants is you? Talk to him.” There’s a command in her tone we almost never hear. “He’s here, and he wants to talk to you—do you know what a gift that is? Ask him whatever you need to know, but for fuck’s sake, talk to him.”

Shock has me gaping at my best friend. She’s never this assertive.

“Madison.” He bangs on the bedroom door, and I give Clover silent permission to open it.

When she does, light filters in, blinding me. I’ve lived with the shades closed for too many days to count.

Finally, my eyes adjust, and Braxton fills the doorway. Exhaustion shows in every tight muscle on his face. He looks as pained as I feel.

“Sunshine.” He says it reverently, sweetly, as though he feared he’d never say it again.

He enters the room, closes the door behind him, and cracks the blinds open so he can see without turning on the overhead light. Then he falls to his knees beside the bed.

“Talk to me. What happened? Is it because I rented the house without talking to you? Is it because I left? I’ve been running through every worst-case scenario, and each one is worse than the last, but it’s the not knowing that’s slowly killing me.”

I’m exhausted. I’ve been in bed for days, but sleep has eluded me, and now, with him in arms reach, I know why—I need him.

“I didn’t take the pill,” I blurt, then snap my lips shut, but once it’s out in the open, there’s no taking it back, and the emotions I’ve been blocking exit in a rush of words and explanations that I’m not even sure make sense.

“And it was your dad who sent camera crews here for weeks and weeks. They camped out on the sidewalk outside of our house. My field hockey team in Charleston asked me not to return because I was a distraction and a danger to the other girls. Then I lost my scholarship because I wasn’t on the team anymore, and the cameras kept coming. They flashed every time we opened the door. They shouted horrible things to me and all my neighbors. They told lies and would talk in circles until even I wasn’t sure what the truth was anymore.

“I begged Montgomery Media to leave me alone, and they laughed in my face. Our stories were getting clicks, and I was famous for a bunch of lies. No one wanted to hear that I wasn’t even in town when Harry crashed his car. He made himself a victim, and his lies kept spiraling, saying I tried to trap him into marriage and⁠—”

Braxton stops my tirade with a firm kiss that makes me sob harder, but it also halts my word vomit from continuing.

“When was the last time you slept?”

I frown and stare at him. Is he freaking serious right now? I tell him that his dad’s scheming and lies almost broke me, and he asks if I’ve slept.

“Did you hear me?” I ask instead. “About the pill or your dad and Harry. Any of it?”

“I heard you,” he says, kicking off his tennis shoes. “When was the last time you slept?” he asks again.

My mouth opens and closes as he uses two hands to slide my body to the middle of the bed, then climbs in beside me.

“Madison,” he says, pulling me down and into his arms.

“Ah, sleep has been hard.” The words are garbled through a yawn.

“That’s what I thought.” He kisses the back of my head, but my lashes are already growing heavy. “We’ll talk after you’ve had some sleep.”

I’d love to argue. I should argue, but my mind is already slipping into unconsciousness.

I blink, wanting to explain, but the room is cloaked in darkness.

“Hi,” he whispers.

“How long have I been asleep?”

He lifts his arm from my belly and his watch illuminates with the time. “About twelve hours.”

Alarmed, I attempt to sit up, but he holds me to him—my head resting over the comforting beat of his heart.

“Twelve hours? I’ve been asleep for twelve hours? Have you been here the whole time?”

“Clover brought me some water and aspirin a few hours ago, but you’d need a team of Navy SEALs to get me out of this room while you were passed out.”

“I’m sorry, you should have⁠—”

“Madison,” he interrupts, his voice sharp, carrying an edge of fear. “The last time I left you alone in a bedroom, you disappeared from my life. If you think I would risk that happening a second time, you’ve lost your damn mind. I belong wherever you are. If that’s not what you want, I’ll go, but I’ll never be far away, not until we’ve worked out all this shit.”

“But—”

“Damn it, Madison. I told you I loved you. Do you think that’s a throwaway phrase for me? Do you think I’d say that if I didn’t feel every ounce of emotion that those three little words carry?”

“You’re angry.”

He has a right to be, doesn’t he? But so do I. The fears of what he knew or didn’t know bubble to the surface, reminding me to protect what’s left of my broken soul.

His long exhale blows the hair around the back of my head. “I’m not angry. I’m terrified that I’ve lost you and I don’t even know why. I deserve to know, don’t I?”

The muscles in his forearms flex. They’re a steel band around my middle, so I feel his sharp intake of air.

“You were one of the fifteen,” he says. “You brought the class action suit against Montgomery Media and donated all the winnings to an anti-bullying nonprofit.”

I nod, but it’s a monumental task that instantly zaps my energy.

“Ace was at the trial to ensure you all won your case, so you think I knew what my father did.” Sadness bleeds from his words.

“I don’t know what to think.” My voice is raw and thick.

His arm falls away, and he stares up at the ceiling. I hate that I instantly feel untethered and lost.

“And you didn’t trust me enough to ask. I noticed that you didn’t say I love you in return, but I thought you at least trusted me.”

“I did. I do. I⁠—”

“You don’t, Madison, or we wouldn’t be here in your best friend’s guest room.”

My pulse races, and blood whooshes in my ears. I suck in a deep breath, then another, but I don’t feel like I’m getting any oxygen.

The light on the nightstand flickers to life.

“Breathe. Deep breaths, in and out slowly.” Braxton cradles my cheeks in his large, callused hands. He blocks out everything so all I can focus on is his face—his breathing—his voice.

In this moment, we share air as if we’re one, because that’s how he makes me feel. I feel whole when I’m with him, and I feel loved.

“Why didn’t you take the pill?” He doesn’t release my face, and I know why. He wants honesty. He deserves honesty.

“I—I don’t know. I just couldn’t do it. If we made a baby, I⁠—”

“Will you keep it?” His voice cracks, and he clears his throat. “If you’re pregnant, will you keep it?”

What kind of question is that? “Of course I’ll keep it.”

He releases the tension that was crinkling the corner of his eyes, even as his gaze darts back and forth, reading between the lines I’ve drawn.

“I didn’t know.”

I slow blink. Didn’t know what?

“About my father. I didn’t know. I mean, I did know⁠—”

I try to pull away, my stomach churning with bile.

“No, listen. I knew after the fact what he had done, but not that it was you specifically. You and those other girls are the reason Grey and I left school to work at Omni-Reyes our senior year. We knew we had to stop him and that Ace wouldn’t be around forever. We learned as much as we could in a short amount of time so he could retire and handle his bad days in private. But the number one motivator for me was to be in a position to stop Montgomery Media from ever harassing people that way again.”

Tears fall down my face and over his hands that still hold me tight.

“What he did to you and the others, that wasn’t okay. Ace didn’t know it was happening until it was too late.”

“That’s why he sent you here? To make it right?”

His expression darkens, and I feel as though I’ve lost him somehow.

“I don’t know why he sent me here, but I know why I’m here, in this room with you. I know why I chose to sit outside this house for the last three days, driving myself mad worrying I’d never get a chance to fight for you. I’m here, with you, because it’s where I want to be.”

“For how long though?”

This is what it all boils down to—my fear that he’ll leave me at the end of this.

“Sweetheart.” His voice cracks again, and you can’t fake the pain clouding his face. “I’m here for as long as you’ll have me. Where we’ll live, and how we’ll do it? Those are all details we’ll figure out as we go. I just want you.”

A new fear bubbles in my chest. “And, what if…what if I’m pregnant?”

“If you’re pregnant, I’ll learn how to build the best damn crib I can find.”

My stomach plummets even as a small bubble of hope builds in the back of my mind. “You’re not scared?” How can he not be scared?

“Oh, baby, I’m fucking terrified. I’d never thought about having kids of my own until that condom broke. But I also know that I love you, and if we’re meant to have a baby, I’ll love him or her because they’re a piece of us.”

Relief hits me hard, and exhaustion makes me weepy.

“I was so afraid you’d be mad. I—I don’t know if I want to be a mom, and I didn’t know if this was real. It was all just so much⁠—”

“So much that you felt as though you had to hide,” he finishes for me.

I nod, but I don’t allow the shame to creep in. I was doing the best I could, and I’m not going to apologize for that anymore.

“But also, the more I’ve thought about it.” Anxiety rattles my ribcage. “The more I realize Pops must’ve known. He was at the trial every day. That must be where he met Ace.”

“I’m sure it was. Ace went every day to ensure Alistair didn’t win. There wasn’t much else he could do because Alistair owned Montgomery Media until the day Ace passed away.”

I nod while thoughts fly through my mind. “I couldn’t go, I was terrified of the cameras. And I couldn’t stomach seeing your father, knowing it had all been a sick experiment for him to see if he could manipulate the world on his whim. He exploited young women—girls who were barely out of high school, and whose only crime was loving someone who may or may not play professional sports.”

“That’s how he targeted all of you. I never read the details, but I know that much. It’s why we shut down all our offices on the East Coast during the trial—Ace refused to inflict more pain, even unintentionally.”

When he stares at me, it’s as though he’s staring straight into my soul. “He will never do this to anyone else. I promise you that. Grey and I were already cutting him out of Omni-Reyes, and we’re shutting down Montgomery Media, but he will pay for what he’s done to you.”

I don’t have a response for that, so I stay silent.

“Come home, please. Let me take care of you. I need you close so I can protect you whenever he comes after me. I can’t have you here on your own.”

“How do you know he’s coming?” A shiver works its way through my body.

His sigh could knock over the entire house. “Because he’s already gone after everyone else, and because I hold all the cards now. Also, because Grey and I control all the finances, so he has nothing to lose.”

“Braxton, I don’t know if I can go through that again.”

“I won’t ask you to. But please come home while Grey and I come up with a plan. I haven’t slept in days, and as much as I love Clover for taking care of you, this full-size bed isn’t going to cut it.”

He points to where his feet hang off the end of the bed, and a snort escapes, followed by laughter that feels so good I could cry, again.

“Is that a yes?” he asks.

“Yes. I’ll come home.”

“Thank, fuck. Let’s go.” He lifts me from the bed as if I weigh nothing.

“Right now?”

“Ah,” he glances around the room. “Is there a reason we shouldn’t go right now?”

“I’ll have to talk to Pops.”

“You have to talk to him anyway, sweetheart. The old guy has a broken spirit. He’s barely left the sofa since you left,” he says, gently placing me on my feet.

Guilt is a sneaky little jerk sometimes, but even if he did lie to me, I know deep in my bones it’s because he thought it was best for me.

“Okay. I should tell Clover though,” I say, slipping my feet into a pair of UGGs.

“Heard ya. Love ya,” Clover calls from behind the door.

“Clover,” I say, wrenching open the door. She and Savvy had their ears pressed to it, and neither one of them has an ounce of shame over being caught.

“We had to make sure he was treating you right,” Clover says in a huff.

“We were ready to bust in there if you needed us,” Savvy adds. “But happy to see it all worked out. I’m going home. I’ll see y’all tomorrow.”

She sashays down the hallway. Clover shrugs and follows us to the front door where she envelops me in a giant hug. “Love you.”

“Love you too,” I say. “Thank you. For everything.”

“Always.” Then she hugs Braxton too. “Do not let anything happen to her.”

“I swear on my life,” he says.

“Ew, don’t do that.” She makes the sign of the cross, then scratches at the air. “I don’t know why I did that. I’m not Catholic, but I don’t know how to ward off bad juju, so take it back.”

He chuckles, but takes it back, then leads me outside, where we wait for Clover to engage all three locks, and then he takes us home to our rental, knowing another shoe will drop, but this time we’ll attempt to catch it together.