Melting Steel: An Alpha Billionaire Romance (10 page)

Keeley             

Rolling over in bed, I frown at the empty spot beside me. Golden light streaks through the blinds and the smell of coffee, the soft hum of the television drift through the small crack in the door.

A small smile tugs at my lips, as I remember his words.
I love you.

Three words that could change everything if I let them.

But there’s so much I still don’t know, so much that needs to be resolved.

There’s no question I’m falling for him – hard. That’s not the issue. The real question is whether I can trust him.

Like love, trust isn’t something I give away easily. I’ve endured loss and survived. But surviving comes at a cost, and although my scars are hidden inside me, they’re still there.

Every person I’ve ever loved, I’ve lost. Even Drew, if I’m honest with myself.

Sadness swells inside me.

You don’t have to be alone.
The devastatingly gorgeous man in the next room, he can be mine.
Mine.

Warmth floods through me – until I try to stand. Every muscle in my body protests, and images of Jax’s hands around my throat assault me. His powerful presence crushing me against his weight. The look of pure hatred in his eyes. The beautiful, broken boy turned into a monster of a man.

There was a time when I wanted to save him. But I finally realized that some wreckage isn’t salvageable. Sometimes you only have enough strength to save yourself.

Jax never forgave me for leaving. Neither did Drew. Even after I’d distanced myself, Drew could never see  Jax for what he is – a criminal. 

I blame myself for staying as long as I did. Maybe if I’d made a clean break sooner, Drew wouldn’t have gotten caught up in the drug scene. Maybe he wouldn’t be in hiding now. Maybe Jax wouldn’t be after us both.

Fear closes in like a dark shroud, the warmth I felt earlier, gone.

I dress in an old gray hoodie and black stretch pants, and wince when I catch my reflection in the mirror. Dark circles under my eyes match the angry bruises around my neck. I swallow hard, and force a smile on my face.

The minute I open the bedroom door, I hear a woman’s raised voice, and Henry’s frustrated, muffled response.

I make my way down the long hall towards the living room where the shouting is coming from.

“You’re trying to ruin my wedding,” Becca says, arms crossed her chest, large tears streaming down her cheeks, somehow not smudging her perfectly applied makeup.

“You don’t even care if they’re there.” Dressed in a white t-shirt that stretches over his muscular chest, and a pair of ripped jeans that hang low on his waist, Henry runs his fingers through his dark hair and lets out a frustrated sigh. “All you want is to make that bastard happy.”

“That bastard is going to be my husband.” Becca hiccups on a small sob, and covers her mouth with the back of her hand in an overdramatic gesture. “You’re being unreasonable. You won’t even tell me why you’ve changed your mind. If you really want me to take the Sullivan’s off the guest list, then give me one valid reason.”

A small tremble of dread races down my spine.

The Sullivan’s are going to be at Becca’s wedding?

I swallow hard, feeling moisture well in my eyes, the sudden sense that I’m being set in another trap.

“You invited me to the wedding, knowing my father was going to be there?”  My voice is small, but they both turn, and I see Henry’s face go pale.

“It’s not what you think, Keeley.” He moves quickly to my side, placing his hands on my shoulders.

“Your father?” Becca blinks, eyes wide, mouth open. She shakes her head. “I don’t understand.”

The unbearable weight of the last few days comes crashing down on me, and when I open my mouth to speak, no words come out.

“Shit, Keeley, look at me.” His palms rest on the sides of my face. Dark eyes capture mine and pull me in. “I’m trying to make things right. Trust me.”

Trust him
.  It’s a choice I need to make. Either that or walk away. Because there’s nothing in between.

“Would someone please tell me what’s going on,” Becca demands, twisting her hands, clearly agitated. 

“Tell her,” I whisper.

Henry places a chaste kiss on my forehead, then releases me and starts to pace.

Aware of Becca’s wide-eyed gaze on me, I sit down on the sofa and curl into myself.

After a few tension-filled minutes, Henry says with disdain tainting his voice, “Keeley and her brother Drew are both John Sullivan’s kids.”

“Holy shit.” Becca continues to blink at me, shaking her head. “That’s why you look so much like her, like Abby.”

“Becca,” Henry says sternly.

“It’s okay.” It makes sense now, the way she stared at me the first time we met. “You knew Abby?”

“Yes. She was like a sister to–” Becca’s brows pinch. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean…”

“It’s okay. I didn’t even know about her until yesterday. I mean not really. I remember my mom talking about John’s other child. But I never…” I swallow hard. “I never wanted anything to do with him or his other family.”

“You don’t talk to him?”

I shake my head, emotions stirring in my chest. Tension heavy, thick and suffocating like it always is whenever I think about the man who stole my childhood, who drove my mom to the brink of desperation.

Henry places a hand on my shoulder, and I immediately take it.
Strength and warmth.

“My mom died when I was young. We didn’t see him after that. He made sure no one knew about us.” It’s only half the story, but it’s all she needs to know.

“Holy shit,” she says again, eyes still wide, and I can tell she’s still trying to process it. “I’m so sorry.”

“Now you know why they can’t be at the wedding,” Henry says harshly.

“Of course. I’ll tell Asher to take them off the list.” Becca is still shaking her head, and I can see she wants to ask more questions.

“Thank you,” Henry says. He pulls his phone from his pocket and curses. “I have to go in to the office. Will you be all right?”

I don’t want him to leave. There’s still so much we need to talk about, but I nod, and plaster a smile on my face. “Yes, of course.”

He leans over and kisses my forehead, concern clear in his eyes.

“I’ll stay with her,” Becca blurts out. “I mean, as long as you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” It’s odd, but I actually prefer the company.  I could use Becca’s incessant chattering to keep my mind off Drew and everything else going on.

A muscle twitches in Henry’s jaw. “There’s a security team watching the place, and Michael–”

“I’ll be fine.”

He frowns, gaze boring into mine as if he can read all my fears like an open book. His fingers brush against my cheek with a tenderness that makes me want to weep.

“I’ll be back in a few hours.” When he drops his hand, I feel the loss of his touch through my whole body.

I watch him walk down the hall towards the elevator, hating being away from him for even that long. 

“Security team?” Becca says with raised brows when Henry is gone.

“It’s a long story.” Subconsciously, my fingers move to my bruised neck. I drop them quickly when I see Becca’s gaze drop.

“Good God, Keeley. What happened?”

“It’s fine.” I pull on my sweatshirt, trying to hide the marks.

“It doesn’t look fine. It looks like someone tried to strangle you.”

I shrug like it doesn’t matter. I can’t even imagine what she’ll think of me if she knew everything. But in all honesty, I’m sick of hiding the truth. She’s going to find out eventually, and there’s a part of me that’s desperate to talk to someone about it. Someone who isn’t directly involved.

“Keeley?” She sits down beside me and places her hand on my arm.

“My brother’s in trouble.” I take a deep breath and rush through a quick snapshot of everything that’s happened over the past couple of weeks.

When I’m done, Becca lets out a low whistle, her expression unreadable.

“I know how selfish I’ve been bringing Henry into all this.” I start fidgeting with the strings on my hoodie, unable to meet Becca’s blinking gaze. Guilt and panic threaten to rise like a storm inside me, and I do my best to push it down. “I understand if you don’t want me near him. I know he deserves better. I tried to leave. So many times…but I can’t.”

“Because you’re in love with him.” Her eyes hold the hint of tears, despite the broad grin that stretches her face. “The way the two of you look at each other. It’s obvious. I always wanted…” She shakes away whatever she was going to say, then places her hand on mine. “I’m glad you’re here. And I’m glad Henry’s making sure you’re safe.”

“Thank you.”

In a heartbeat, I’m swept up into one of Becca’s hugs.

“I should thank
you
. After what happened with Abby, I didn’t think he’d ever be able to move on, but I see the change in him already, and–” Her fingers go to her lips and her eyes widen. “Shit, Keeley. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have mentioned her. Sometimes I just open my mouth and things come out.”

“It’s okay. It wasn’t her fault what our father did.” My mouth is dry, my palms sweaty, but I ask the question anyways. “Will you tell me about her?”

Her eyes pinch close. “She was Henry’s age, so they spent more time together.”

“They were close?” Tightness grips my chest, and I immediately regret asking the question.

“Yes.” The word comes out as a rough murmur, almost pained. “Everyone always thought the two of them would get married.”

My heart races and a knot of jealousy forms in the pit of my stomach.  “They loved each other?”

“Very much, but not the way you’re thinking.” As if sensing my jealousy, she says, “I’ve never seen my brother look at a woman like he does you. It was just friendship between him and Abby.”

“But…” Chewing on my nails, I debate whether or not to ask the next question. It’s something I should talk to Henry about, but I don’t know if I can handle hearing the truth from him. “She was pregnant?”

“Yes.”

My chest squeezes painfully. So much for the
“just friends, theory.”

“What do you know?” Becca asks, pain stretched across her pretty face.

“Not much.” I chew on my bottom lip. “Mostly just what her obituary said. That she took her own life.”

Guarded, Becca searches my face, and I can tell there’s things she doesn’t know if she should tell me.

“People have been hiding things from me my entire life. I just want to know the truth.”

On a heavy sigh, she gives a reluctant nod.

“Henry was obsessively protective of her, she was…” Emotions race across her features and sorrow creased the corners of her eyes. “Abby was always a little odd. Don’t get me wrong. She was wonderful. Always the first to help. Always there if you needed her. But as she got older, things started to change. There were times when she’d say or do something that was completely out of character. Like she was becoming two different people. Henry never wanted to believe it. But we all saw what was happening.”

I can’t help but think about Drew. How similar Becca’s description of Abby is. But Abby lived a perfect life. She had everything that Drew and I could only dream about. A family. A stable home.

“Is that why Henry left her?”

Becca’s head snaps up. “Who told you that?”

“I-I just thought–” I stumble on my words, taken back by the horror in Becca’s eyes.

“You thought wrong. Henry would never have left her. Ever.”

“Then what happened?”

“You should talk to Henry.” Her lips quiver at the corners, and I can hear the bitterness in her voice.

“Becca, please. I need to know.” A spiral of doubt winds through me, but I push anyways.

“There were a lot of rumors.” Sucking in a shaky breath, she continues, “Henry didn’t care. His only thoughts were on helping Abby. But everyone believed the awful things they said about him. He’s carried the guilt of her death around his neck like a noose for the past ten years. But it wasn’t his fault.” Her gaze narrows on me, and moisture pools there, her expression raw. “
Any of it
.”

I feel like there’s so much more that she’s not saying. I open my mouth to ask her, but she holds up her hand to stop me.

“You need to talk to Henry. It’s his story. Not mine.”

I don’t push her further, and we sit in silence, both caught up in our own thoughts.  

Do I really need to know everything? Becca’s right, it’s Henry’s story to tell. It was a long time ago, and no matter what he did or didn’t do, doesn’t change who he is now.

Mine.

Keeley

Alone in Henry’s apartment, my cell phone feels like a fifty-pound weight in my hands. I re-read the text message for the tenth time and continue to pace.

I’ve found a way to make everything right.

Meet me at the coffee shop at the corner of Laurel St.

-D

A cold, sharp shiver races down my spine.
Drew
.

Relief mixes with apprehension. He’s alive. That small fear that’s been plaguing me eases.

I try to call the number back, but there’s no answer, no machine, it just keeps ringing.

It’s the first contact I’ve had from Drew since he went AWOL, and I can’t ignore it. Henry will be pissed if I leave on my own, but I have to go.

Grabbing my purse, I race through the apartment and jam my thumb at the elevator button. On the way down, I try Henry’s cell, then blow out a frustrated breath when he doesn’t pick up.

I type a short text.

Drew contacted me.

Going to meet him.

Not running.

I type the last line, knowing it’s what he’ll think the moment his security team lets him know I’ve left the apartment.

As soon as the elevator doors open and I enter the atrium, I see two shadowy figures start towards me. The same two men that found me at Jax’s apartment. One is on his phone, the other wears a scowl that would be intimidating if I didn’t know they were hired for my protection.

I acknowledge them with a small nod, which is returned with deep frowns, then looks of startled surprise when I walk up to them.

“I assume you have orders to follow me?”

The larger of the two gives a sharp nod. 

“Good.” I don’t know what to expect with Drew, and I may need them if he refuses to come back with me.

Without another word, I turn quickly and walk briskly out of the building, keeping a steady pace for the seven blocks it takes me to get to Laurel Street.

From the sidewalk outside the coffee shop, I see Drew. He sits at the back booth, dark hoodie pulled over his light brown hair.

He glances up when I walk towards him, his expression hard, desperate.

“You came,” he says, blue eyes slightly glazed. But I don’t know if it’s from drugs, or lack of food and sleep, because he doesn’t look like he’s had much of either in the past two weeks.

His fingers tremble as he rips open a sweetener pack and pours it in his coffee. 

Tension is thick, filling up the space between us.

My heart aches. Because the man in front of me is no longer the little boy that I used to know. Anger, drugs, life have beaten him down, and I wonder how much I really know him.

It doesn’t matter though. He’s still my baby brother. And I’ll do anything to protect him.

I sit and accept the coffee the waitress brings me, waiting until she’s gone to speak. “I’ve been worried sick about you.”

Drew gives a small shrug, as if his disappearing act was nothing out of the ordinary.

“Jax said he told you everything.” He takes a sip of his coffee, eyes darting around the coffee shop.

“You spoke with Jax?” My insides quake, heart sinking into my stomach. I place my palms on the table beside my mug and lean in, forcing Drew to look at me. “When?”

Drew all but shrinks into himself, like he’s a child being reprimanded.

“When?” I say again, this time louder, making heads turn in our direction.

“He’s going to help me.”

“Help you?” I fist my fingers, and it’s suddenly difficult to breathe. 

“He figured out a way we can make everything better. You. Me. Him. We can leave. Get out of the city like you always wanted to do. We’ll have enough money so you won’t have to work anymore. And Jax can–”

“Drew, listen to me.” It’s difficult to speak with the panic clawing at my throat, but I’m able to force the words out. “Jax isn’t trying to help you. Whatever he told you, it’s a lie. He’s using you to get to me.”

“He was right,” Drew snorts, blue eyes churning with anger, now directed at me. “You never believed in me. In him. All you care about is yourself.”

“I care about you.”

“Then help me.”

“I’m trying to. Come with me. We can sort this out together. I promise.”

“Come with
you
?” His once beautiful face twists in a sneer. “What, so that your boyfriend can call the cops on me, too? You want me locked up. Is that your plan?”

“No. Of course not.” What had Jax told him?

Drew glances over my shoulder, eyes quickly filling with alarm, and one hand quickly snakes under his sweatshirt as if reaching for a weapon.

I look over my shoulder and see Henry’s men saunter into the coffee shop, eyes trained on us.

“Those men are here to help us. To help
you
. Just come back with me. Everything will be all right. I promise.”

He squeezes his eyes shut, and rubs the heel of his palm against his forehead, mumbling incoherently under his breath. When he looks at me again his expression is hard, tortured –
dangerous
. I’ve never been afraid of my brother before, but I am now.

“Jax was right, you’ve changed. You don’t care about me. All you care about is that bastard you’re shacking up with.” His eyes are wild, darting around the room. His hand is still under his shirt, and I’m more certain than ever that he’s carrying a weapon.

“You’re wrong.”

“I’ve got to get out of here.”

“Drew, stop.” I grab his free hand when he starts to shift on the bench, and he pulls it away like my touch burns him. My chest tightens and panic pulls at the edges of my mind, and my throat is so tight I can barely breathe. “Everything I’ve ever done has been to keep you safe. Look at me. Look in my eyes. I love you. Please don’t run again. I can’t help you if you do.”

“I see you,” he hisses, leaning towards me, lips pulled back exposing his teeth. His words are loud enough that people turn in their seats to watch us. “You’re just like her. Like our mother. You’re a selfish bitch who thinks about no one but herself.”

“Drew.” His name comes out on a breath.

“The man slept with our sister, fucked her and left. He’ll do the same to you.”

The entire coffee shop has gone eerily quiet and I can feel all eyes on me.

“You’re wrong,” I say softly, knowing I’ve already lost him.

“God, Keeley. You disgust me. I thought I knew you, but you’d rather be the man’s whore than help your own brother. Like mother, like daughter, right?” He spits on the ground beside the table, his eyes so black I can hardly see the rim of blue.

“Don’t do this.” A mass presses down on my chest, an excruciating weight almost too heavy to bear.

“You won’t help me?” His own demons flicker across his face, hardening the edges so that I barely recognize him. “Then you’re dead to me.”

When he bolts from the table, I can’t do anything but stare at the empty spot in front of me.

I sink into the depth of my misery, letting it consume me.

I’m not sure how long I sit there, minutes, hours. I sit there frozen. Unable or unwilling to move, I sink into myself, and choke down the sorrow that rises like a tidal wave, drowning all hope that everything would be okay.

I search inside myself, trying to steel my heart against the anguish that guts me, but I’ve let those walls down, and now I feel like I’m lying bleeding, exposed, with nothing to protect me.