Текст книги "Don't Let Go"

Автор книги: Michelle Lynn

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Текущая страница: 11 (всего у книги 17 страниц)

Chapter 20

I walk downstairs, rubbing my eyes. I stop at the bottom when I hear voices in my dad’s office. Hovering by the door for a moment, I hear my mom talking with a man who is not my dad. They are discussing Theo’s death. My mom informs him that she wants to change all of the paperwork to my name only, instructing him to combine the two accounts. They start saying their good-byes so I scramble into the kitchen where my grandma is sipping her tea at the table.

“Good morning, Sadie dear,” she says.

“Good morning, Grandma,” I respond.

“Where is that hunk of a boyfriend?” she asks, winking my way.

“I assume he’s still sleeping.” I go to the cabinet to get a mug for my coffee.

“What are you doing down here then?” she jokes.

“Grandma!” I scold her, laughing.

“We have to be respectful, Ida,” Brady’s deep voice declares as he enters, and I grab another mug for him.

“Good morning, beautiful. I missed you last night,” he whispers in my ear before kissing me on my cheek and then sitting down at the table.

“You didn’t have to get dressed on my account,” my grandma jokes.

Brady laughs and joins her at the table, “Good morning, Ida.”

“Good morning, Brady. I’m glad I caught you both before Theo and Maggie come down.” She pushes her tea to the side, waiting for me to join them.

I set Brady’s coffee in front of him and take the seat next to him. “What’s up, Grandma?” I ask.

“Brady, don’t take it personally what Theo did last night. He just wants to protect his family. Hell, if I had a daughter and she came home with you, I would have been scared, too.” She shakes her head, imagining it.

“Grandma, it’s just outward appearances. I know we seem different but...”

“God Sadie, get over that. I could give a shit about that. Who cares about the clothes or hair, but I do think I would like you better with tattoos,” she says and winks at him. “It’s the two of you. There is something there that doesn’t come around often. God knows Theo and Maggie don’t have it. You two have it though. I can’t explain it except to say that when you look at each other, everyone else instantly feels like an outsider, as if you two hold some secret they don’t know about.” She finishes her tea and stands up.

“Don’t let Theo bully you, Brady. I raised him to be a prissy bastard; should have kept him in Detroit,” she says and ventures out of the room.

“Wise Grandma,” Brady says and leans forward.

“Kiss me,” I say and he happily obliges.

My mom comes in a few minutes later, after I hear the front door shut. She makes us all breakfast and my dad joins us a little later. We spend the day lounging around the house until my parents tell me that they want us to join them at the country club for dinner. I insist we will not be going but Brady contradicts me, saying we will. I wish he would stop trying to please them.

We enter the dining room and there are way too many familiar faces here. Brady entwines our hands and I smile up at him. He is always so in tune with my feelings. I was upset he took off his bracelets and combed his hair down tonight while sporting a pair of slacks and a button-down shirt. You would think he was born in this crowd if you didn’t know better but I hate it. I love him the way he is and I don’t want him changing for anyone, especially these people.

My parents work the room, while Brady and I follow behind on the way to our table. I have been coming here for years so I know where we are sitting, but I’m trying to be respectful to my parents. To my amazement, they introduce Brady to every person we come across, but I’m sure it’s because of his new appearance tonight. My grandma talks with a couple of older gentlemen at a table by the front of the room. She already told me she was going to eat there instead of at our table. Her exact words were, ‘Sadie, I’m going to try to get lucky, so I’m sitting here rather than with your boring father.’ I just laughed and walked away. She loves men, even though I know she misses my Grandpa Pat every day.

Relief washes over me when we finally reach the table. Brady scoots my chair out for me before he sits in his own. My dad follows suit with my mom but she doesn’t give him her usual smile, just a curt thank you instead. Something is wrong, but I can’t put my finger on it. My mom has always appeared to be enamored with my dad.

Dinner is filled with long streams of silence. I’m still mad at my dad for last night so I refuse to talk, and therefore barely any conversation is spoken. I feel bad for Brady; he looks uncomfortable while glancing over to me every once in a while. Then the unthinkable happens.

“Brady Carsen, is that you?” a gentleman from two tables over calls out.

Brady turns around and an instant frown appears across his face before he quickly replaces it with a fake smile. “Jack, how are you?” He stands up and holds out his hand.

“I’m great. I thought I recognized you. What on earth are you doing here?” His enthusiasm is refreshing to our table.

“I’m here with my girlfriend and her family,” Brady answers quietly and turns toward our table. “This is my girlfriend, Sadie Miller.” I stand up and shake Jack’s hand. “These are her parents. This is Maggie and I think you know her father, Theo.”

“Yes, nice to see you again, Theo. Pleasure to meet you, Maggie.” Jack shakes everyone’s hands.

A couple of heads turn in our direction, wondering how my boyfriend knows the famous Jack London. Everything is who you know and what you have around here.

“Will you accompany me tonight? I play in about an hour. Nothing spectacular, just some ballroom dancing pieces.” Jack’s appears hopeful.

“I don’t think so,” Brady answers.

“You should play, Brady. I would love to hear you perform,” my mom tries to change his mind.

Brady’s eyes veer my way and I smile, encouraging him to do it.

“Alright, maybe a couple,” he grudgingly agrees.

“Great. Finish your dinner and I can meet you in forty-five minutes. Sound good?” Jack doesn’t wait for the answer. Brady sits back down at the table and I grab his hand under the table. It’s clammy and cold and I look at him with confused eyes, but he shakes his head.

“I can’t wait to hear you, Brady,” my dad says with way too much sarcasm in his voice.

I’m eager to hear Brady play, so I take a seat next to my grandma at her table where I can be right up front. My mom grabs the chair on the other side of me. I have no idea where my dad is, but I really don’t care at this point.

Brady and Jack are on stage, fiddling with instruments and talking about what pieces they will play.

“He really is attractive, Sadie,” my mom whispers in my ear.

“I know,” I exclaim.

“He seems to love you. Do you love him?” she asks.

I stare at my mom, stunned by her question. There is something different about her since I have been home and the change is nice.

“Yes,” I nod my head. “I’m sure it’s not what you expected from me, but I do love him, Mom.”

“I thought so, honey. If you love each other, that’s all that matters.” Her comment makes me skeptical, like I’m waiting for the other shoe to drop. This is the same woman who told me I should stay away from Kayla Jacobs because her parents couldn’t afford to belong to the country club when I was eleven. Shallow and vain have always been qualities my mom possessed.

Brady’s voice brings my eyes back to the stage. He is gorgeous in his black slacks and button down. “Good evening, everyone. I’m Brady Carsen,” he starts talking and my grandma whistles, making him chuckle into the microphone. The nice shade of pink is refreshing on him.

“I know that none of you know me, but I have known Jack here for quite a number of years. He has asked that I accompany him tonight and I hope you don’t mind.” He strums his guitar a few times.

“You know when someone comes into your life and you wonder where you were headed before you met them. Your whole life takes on a different meaning and you start living for them, instead of yourself? Well, that happened to me two months ago when Sadie Miller fell into my arms. This is for you, beautiful.” His sultry voice fills the room, accompanied by his guitar with “When you Say Nothing at All” by Ronan Keating.

 

 

I notice the stares from the corner of my eyes. I want to run up on stage and jump into his arms, showing all of these people that he’s mine. For the first time in all of the occasions I have seen Brady sing, his eyes stay open the whole time, staring directly at me. He never looks down at his guitar while he strums along with Jack. It is only the two of us in the room. I imagine if this were a movie, everyone else would fade into a black abyss, leaving a spotlight just on us. As the song draws to a close, Brady puts his guitar down, allowing Jack to fully take over. He walks over and bends down in front of me while taking my hands in my lap and sings solely to me. A tear falls down my cheek and he cups my face to catch the next one with his thumb. When the song is over, he leans forward and kisses me.

“I love you, baby,” he whispers in my ear.

Before I can say it back, he is already on stage, grabbing his guitar again. When he turns around again, he gives me his signature wink.

“Sadie…you need to marry that boy before he gets away,” my grandma says loudly.

“Thanks, Grandma,” I giggle in return, my eyes only on Brady.

The rest of the night, Brady plays a variety of songs with Jack. Numerous songs are popular hits that they turn into an acoustic mix for this stuffy crowd. I happily agree to dance with an older gentleman from our table. He spins me around the dance floor, making it hard to keep up. Brady laughs every time his eyes land on us and I look at him, worried at what I got myself into.

Brady and Jack announce that they are playing their last song, making me grateful. I’m done sharing him, especially with these self-absorbed people that most likely don’t appreciate his talent. A familiar, deep voice taps me on the shoulder and asks if I want to dance. I reluctantly stand up and take my father’s hand.

He leads me to the dance floor while Brady switches over to the keyboard. He starts playing “Hard to Say I’m Sorry” by Chicago, but for the first time, his song choice is off. The last thing my dad will do is apologize.

“Sadie, I’m not sorry for last night. I see how much you care for him, but he won’t be able to give you the life you deserve,” he says softly so no one else hears him.

“What kind of life? A happy one?” I sneer at him.

“How will he support you? Eventually those looks will fade.”

I roll my eyes. “Dad, Brady is talented and he doesn’t rely on his looks. Did you ever think that I don’t want someone to support me? I don’t want this life,” I say, looking around.

“Why the hell not? Was your life so bad, Sadie? Was your closet too full of high– end clothes or your new Mercedes at sixteen that terrible? I can imagine having your college tuition plus spending money must be a nightmare. Did I give you such a horrible life that you want to spit in my face now?” His sarcastic voice escalates but for the first time, I don’t care if we make a scene.

“I want someone who loves me and Brady does. He accepts me…fully,” I confess.

“Really? Does he know you were a slut in college? How about Theo and why he died? Does he know that you got your brother killed?” he asks me between clenched teeth, tightening his grip. I may have always felt the guilt, but hearing it hurts that much more.

I pull out of his arms and run out of the room. In the hallway, I hear the music stop abruptly. When I get outside, Brady is right behind me, already wrapping his arms around me. “Take me home,” I whisper through tears.

“Okay.” He whistles for a cab and when we get in, I give the driver my parents’ address. Brady holds me the entire ride, not asking any questions.

When we pull up into the drive, I open the door and inform the cab driver to stay and tell Brady to pack his bags.

“No Sadie, I will not let you run from your family on account of me,” he says, grabbing both my arms.

“I asked you to take me home,” I say.

“You are home Sadie,” he answers, confused.

“No, take me back to Western. This is no longer home to me.” I run up the stairs to get my bag. I hear Brady’s footsteps behind me before entering the room across the hall to get his belongings.

Just as I shut the front door to leave, my mom, dad, and grandma pull up.

“Sadie Marie Miller, you better think twice before leaving here,” he screams.

“What are you going to do?” I yell back.

“This life that you hate so much. Let’s see you live without the privileges it provides. You walk away and it’s gone…all of it,” he hisses.

“Relax, Junior,” my mom pleads. “Sadie…stay, we can talk about this,” she begs.

“What’s it going to be, Sadie?” he asks, the ultimatum clear.

“Stop this, Theo,” my grandma tries to step in. “Brady, talk to her,” she instructs him.

“Sadie…let’s go inside and talk,” Brady tries to reason with me.

“Listen to him, Sadie. I don’t think you realize what you are deciding here,” my dad responds.

“Do you really blame me?” I ask. “You think I killed Theo,” I state, my voice shaking. My mom and grandma gasp between us.

“Of course he doesn’t, darling,” my grandma speaks up.

“Do you?” I demand and my dad remains silent, standing in the headlights of the cab. “Take it, take everything. I don’t care,” I yell and get in the waiting car.

“Sadie…just so we are clear. Your car, your credit cards, your tuition. All of it, gone.” My dad stands outside the cab door now as Brady stands in limbo between us.

“I don’t want anything from you,” I tell him, looking straight ahead.

“No, Sadie please, don’t do this.” My mom comes around the other side of the car, begging me through the window.

“We can deal with this darling, come in the house,” my grandma begs.

“I’m sorry, Mom…Grandma. I love you. Good-bye,” I say and Brady enters the cab in silence.

Brady tells the cab driver to pull away and I curl into his chest, not looking back. I sob into his shirt, hearing my mom’s screams get fainter with every minute.

Chapter 21

My dad kept his word. My car was towed this morning and my credit cards were cut off. I know my tuition is paid up through the semester, and hopefully I will be able to get a loan or assistance to pay for my last semester. As I look up financial aid information on my laptop, Brady comes into his room. I see the guilt in his eyes; he blames himself.

“Baby, don’t worry about this now. I will help you figure it out,” he says and closes the laptop, which technically belongs to my dad.

“Okay,” I agree and curl back up in a ball on the bed.

“Stay with me, Sadie?” he requests.

“I am staying with you,” I respond.

“No, move in here with me. I’ll take care of you,” he kindly offers.

“No, Brady, but thank you. You and the guys have your place. I still have the dorm until Christmas break.”

“I want you here…with me. I want to wake up to you every morning and kiss you goodnight before I fall asleep,” he says, kissing my neck.

“I can’t ask you to do that, Brady.” I move my hands to the back of his head, holding his lips to the back of my neck.

“Please, Sadie. Just think about it?” he asks and moves his lips behind my ear.

“Okay…I’ll think about it,” I finally concede. It takes everything inside of me not to agree to move in with him.

Brady is lightly snoring next to me, while all of the things I will have to do consume my mind. Get a job, get a loan, and find a place to live. The list is unending and suddenly I feel very overwhelmed and unable to sleep. I get up out of bed, tiptoe out of the room, and begin making my way downstairs. The door to my right catches my eye and I walk over, slowly turning the knob. It’s locked. Was Brady telling me the truth about it just being storage stuff? Before we can continue moving forward, he has to trust me with his secrets. I recall the exchange he had with Jessa before we left for Niagara Falls, when he told her to take care of his house.

Curiosity overcomes me and I travel down the hall to the other bedrooms. With the boys out of town, I peruse their rooms. Rob’s is a disaster with clothes strewn on top of a chair and guitar picks in every nook and cranny. Dex is fairly neat, although his bed isn’t made and there is an inch of dust on every piece of furniture. Trey’s seems to be in the best shape. His bed is made, but there are numerous water and beer bottles on his dresser and nightstand. I walk down the hallway, and after checking to see that Brady is still snoring, I decide to make my way downstairs.

I never noticed all of the nice, older furniture before. The house isn’t filled with mismatched items from thrift stores or garage sales. Even the carpet is void of stains. Deciding to get a bottle of water, I dig my phone out of my purse and take a seat on one of the nice couches in the living room.

Scrolling through my phone, I see the missed calls from my mom and grandma. My mom sent me a few texts. She tells me not to worry about my dad, that it will work out and I won’t be cut off. I guess this was before he took my car this morning. I don’t bother to listen to the voicemails; nothing will change my mind.

They fail to understand that after Theo’s death, those things aren’t important to me anymore. I don’t want a slew of houses with large walk-in closets. I want to love my children and know their likes and dislikes. I want to be the one who tucks them in at night and wishes them good morning with kisses and hugs. The day I buried Theo, I promised myself I would live for happiness and love, not money and prestige.

I flip through the pictures on my phone. The urge today is greater than previous days. I need to see his face. My lips curl up as soon as I see that smirk of a smile. I snapped the picture a few days before the incident, when he was sprawled out on my bed complaining about some course. I wish I could remember the conversation, but I was too preoccupied with what I was going to wear to that formal. The feeling of failing him overpowers me and one tear drops down, resting on the edge of my nose. Then another one. Soon my face is drenched with wetness as I stare at those emerald eyes staring back at me, not unlike my own. I almost feel his arms around my shoulders, telling me he’s with me. That he will always be there for me. Even now I feel him watching over me, protecting me.

I wake up in Brady’s bed. I assume he found me downstairs and brought me up to his room. I grab one of his sweatshirts and make my way to the kitchen, where I hear music. Brady sits at the kitchen table, reading the newspaper and tapping his fingers on the table to the beat of the music.

“Good morning, beautiful,” he says, smiling when his eyes find me in the doorway.

“Thanks for bringing me upstairs,” I reply, sitting across from him.

“I prefer you in bed with me,” he grins. “Coffee?”

“I can get it.” I stand up and walk toward the counter but Brady cuts me off, chuckling to himself. “Really, babe, let me get it.”

“Here you go,” he turns around, holding my cup.

“Thank you,” I say and rise to my tip toes to give him a kiss.

“Always,” he responds and walks back over to his seat. “So, we have about four hours before the roommates start coming back. What do you want to do?”

“Hmm…” I put my finger up to my lips, jokingly contemplating.

“Me too. Come on over here,” he instructs. I walk over and straddle him on the kitchen chair. We haven’t had sex since before we left for my parents. I appreciate Brady giving me the space after we got back, but there is nothing I want more than to be with him.

“Lose the shirt,” I command.

Brady’s eyes sparkle as he hurriedly takes his shirt off and tosses it to the floor.

“What next?” he asks eagerly, clearly enjoying my assertiveness.

“Take my shirt off.” He happily takes the hem of my shirt and tears it over my head.

“No bra.” He smiles widely. “Could this morning get any better?” he comments. “Next, baby?”

“Please touch me,” I beg and lean down to kiss him. His hands go right to my breasts, kneading and pushing them as I moan into his mouth.

“Do you want me to suck them?” he asks. I nod my head and he ducks his head down, wrapping his mouth around one of my nipples, sucking it into his mouth.

“God, Brady, more. I need more,” I pant.

“Like?” he questions, taking a break from my breasts. He peeks up at me through his eyelashes.

“I need you…inside of me,” I confess.

“What do you need inside of you, baby?” he asks, with his hands already on their way up my thighs, venturing to the inside of my boxers.

“Your…” I trail off, too embarrassed to finish.

“Say it, baby, and it’s yours.” Brady’s fingers peek through my shorts and now graze over my clit before he inserts one finger in. When I still don’t answer, he inserts a second one, making me buck into his hand.

“Your cock…I need your cock in me,” I answer him breathlessly and a smile consumes his face.

“It’s ready, come and get it,” he instructs, leaning back in the chair. I pull down his pajama pants and expose his erect hardness while he slides my boxers to the side. When I climb entirely on top of him, letting him fill me, I gasp from the pleasure. “Shit, you feel good.”

Brady pushes me back a little, while I move up and down over him. He plays with my breasts, thumbing my already taut nipples. Moving his hands to my face, he inserts a finger in my mouth and I automatically suck it in response.

“Fuck me, Brady!” I scream and he brings his hips up to meet mine. As I go down, he comes up. We are in perfect harmony with each other. I can’t hold the ecstasy back anymore; it is right on the edge, teeter-tottering back and forth.

“I love fucking you, baby,” he shouts through erratic breathing. With that, I fall into rapture and grip his shoulders while he slows his movements into gentle circles, enabling me to enjoy the thrilling waves of pleasure.

“Now, it’s your turn. I want to see you come,” I whisper to him and he starts going faster again, guiding my hips up and down, harder and harder, before he stills inside of me and his head falls on my shoulder.

“Shit that was hot, baby.” Brady hugs me to him, kissing my neck.

“I’d say it was,” a deep voice calls out in the doorway and I freeze while Brady pulls me closer to him, trying to shield me from Rob.

“Get the fuck out, Robbie,” Brady yells and throws a spoon at him.

“I’m going,” he says, backing away from the door. “I think I have to get Jessa or solve this problem on my own,” he mumbles to himself, walking upstairs.

I anxiously get up and throw my shirt over my head, tossing Brady his. I imagine my face is beet red from the heat I feel across my cheeks.

“Just think. If you move in, I could always kick him out.” Brady pulls me into his chest.

“How could you kick him out?” I ask. I believe I already know the answer, but I want Brady to tell me.

“Shit…,” he says, shaking his head, obviously upset with himself. “Sit down, Sadie,” he requests.

I take the chair across from him and Brady brings my coffee to me. He tells me that it’s his house, the house he grew up in. His dad left to live somewhere else and gave him the house, free and clear, no mortgage. He only charges the guys the bare minimum to pay for utilities and a cleaning lady…mystery solved. When I ask him why he kept it from me, he admits he was worried I wouldn’t like him for him but rather what he owned. Jessa knows because Rob told her and he wishes it wouldn’t have been like that, but he didn’t know what to do. As much as it hurts thinking that Brady thought I could have been a materialistic bitch, at the same time, I understand why he was scared. A few years ago, that’s exactly what I was.

After he reveals the truth regarding the house, Brady appears happier, as though a burden is lifted off his shoulders. Unfortunately, it brings about a whole new set of questions. I need to know more about Brady’s parents. Brady says his dad is around, but I never see him and he never talks about him. From what I understood from the conversation with my dad, he retired last year after being the dean of contemporary music. I desperately want to google him, but I’m torn between waiting for Brady to tell me and finding out on my own.