Psycho Ex Boyfriend (Standalone New Adult Romance) (The Alpha Brotherhood Book 2) (29 page)

The neighborhood turns seedier a few blocks away and I spot a flickering light. An unattended 50 gallon drum homeless fire. Fucking perfect. It’s blazing under a far less than perfect bridge, however.

I shed my outer shell and drop it into the flames. I’ve been wearing three layers so far tonight, not including my shirt. I didn’t realize how hot I was and I welcome the ease of movement in my arms. I might need them as I pass the group of three kids I’m approaching. Now I look like the wealthy man that I am, the perfect target to rob.

One of them calls out to sell me drugs. I keep walking and they don’t give me a second glance, instead talking about if there’s enough time to get to a nearby party. This was the perfect night. My next chance for a completely distracted, inebriated city wouldn’t have come until St. Patrick’s Day.

This wool coat has been altered to add a hood, one that I promptly pull over my head as I climb on a bus. No one notices me yet again, though everyone’s eyes are glued to their phones nowadays on public transportation.

My body leans to the side from the inertia of the ride. The adrenaline starts to wear off, replaced by nausea so powerful I’m thankful that I was too anxious to eat anything today. I just shot someone in the face. I just killed the man that used to pimp out Molly. A memory of my elder sister’s face comes to my mind, the way her smile was so forced and sad the last time we saw each other. My eyes water and I wipe my nose. I’d pull her picture out of my wallet right now if I thought I’d be able to hold it together.

The bus drops me off at the train and I ride back to the jubilance and bustle of downtown, striding towards Sabrina’s building. I stop at a hotdog cart and pick something up, so I have the excuse of a greasy paper bag in my hands when I come back to a place that I’ve already been tonight.

We haven’t spoken for a week and a half. I knock on the door with a clenched fist, desperate to get inside. It’s 11:15. Just forty five minutes left in this fateful day.

“Who is it?” her muffled voice asks.

“Me.” I know damn well she’s looking through that peephole at my face right now. “Let me in.”

“No.”

I do not have time for this bullshit. “Sabrina, I need—”

“Go get your twisted sex from one of your whores.”

Of course. Obviously, I’ve been out cheating. That’s always her first fucking thought. “I was about to say help.”

Her door finally opens and I’ve never been more relieved.

Sabrina

Age 28

The clouds part and a sunbeam appears, filtering through the dingy window behind Adam. His golden hair is cropped short and faded. It doesn’t shine like it used to when we came into this secret library storage closet to makeup. He’s taller, broader, and a whole lot crazier. And if I thought I was in love with him back in the day, I really had no idea what was coming. He’s more like an addiction now.

“I’m sorry,” he says again.

“About what?”

“A great many things,” he chuckles. “But I was talking about the last few months. Especially Christmas.”

“Adam, I don’t want to drag you to see my family if you don’t want to go.”

“I do want to go.” His lips roll together. “I just wanted to spare you the discomfort of telling them that we broke up a week later.”

“And why would we do that?”

“Because I…”

“Killed somebody?” I whisper. He nods, unable to look at me. “I can’t believe that I’m saying this, but apparently that’s not a deal breaker for me.”

“It isn’t?”

“No.” Hold on now. “It
was
Marlowe, right?”

“Of course.”

“You’ve made it pretty clear that you planned to avenge Molly since high school, Adam. I’m not exactly surprised.” Worried? Yeah.

His lips part to tell me something, but he hesitates, then swallows whatever it was and stays silent. I can’t deal with this anymore. He’s always been relatively open with me and now that we’re finally together, he’s slipping further away. I don’t understand. “What?”

“Nothing,” he replies quickly.

“Bullshit.”

“It’s for your benefit, Bree.”

“How so, exactly?”

“I don’t want you to… Fuck,” he breathes. I glare at him and refuse to blink. “Fine. I didn’t do it for her. I did it for you.”

“What?”

“There is only one reason that I’d risk everything.
You
. My sister is gone and she’s not coming back. I ruined him for it. And if I’d thought ahead, I wouldn’t have even done that.” Adam takes a step closer to me, his gaze locked with mine. “Because nothing,
nothing
, certainly not revenge, could ever be worth putting you in danger and that is exactly what I did.”

“Adam…”

“I did, Sabrina. There was a thug watching you at your office. It was only a matter of time.”

I stare him down, trying to see if he’s lying. Of all the shit Adam has put me through, lying was never a major problem and I don’t think it is now. I bite my lip and reach up to stroke his jaw. “Is that why you’ve been so distant lately?”

“I’d prefer the term distracted,” he answers. “But if we’re going to use some bullshit psychological terminology—”

“Hey,” I cut him off. “Don’t knock my therapy.”

He groans. “Fine. You’re right. I haven’t been
present
lately,” he admits, rolling his eyes. “And I wasn’t around on Christmas to give you a present, either.”

“You do realize that word has multiple meanings, right?”

Adam’s face brightens with a smile. “Yes, I do.”

He pulls an object roughly the size of a baseball from his pocket. It’s wrapped in plain brown paper, like every Christmas gift before it. I can’t keep my excitement from showing. Adam lavishes me with expensive clothes and fancy jewelry often and those gifts are always professionally wrapped. But his Christmas presents are always simple and meaningful.

My fingers tear through the single piece of tape, revealing the bright turquoise beneath it. I unwrap the rest and stare down at a miniature version of a white washed, blue domed Greek villa, exactly like the one we stayed in last year.

“It’s a paperweight.”

“I love it.” I stand on my toes to meet him halfway as he dips down for a kiss. It’s deeper than I’m expecting, his lips quivering against mine.

“I want to go home,” he croaks, pulling my body closer to his. I hate it when his face is so tortured like this. “I thought that I’d want to take you to some island to escape the winter, but all I want to do is go home and I don’t even technically have one.”

“Yes, you do,” I tell him, kissing his forehead over and over. “Of course you do.”

“Let’s move in together. Officially. Maybe get a bigger place. But not yet. Right now I just want to—”

“Shhhh,” I breathe, squeezing his hand in mine. “Let’s go.”

He hides his face in the curve of my shoulder for a moment, pulling away with his usual composed expression as if nothing is wrong at all. We step into the library and stop dead in our tracks.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing here?” a janitor exclaims. He’s standing next to a window cracked open, a trail of smoke rising from a hand rolled cigarette that he quickly butts out. “You have to leave,” he says. “I’m calling the cops.”

“Sure you are, buddy,” Adam laughs, sniffing the air right as the scent takes me back to my college dorm days.

“Get out!”

We scamper through the aisle of bookshelves giggling, arm in arm. “I can’t believe we finally got caught,” I whisper.

“I know,” he laughs. “That library has seen some shit.”

Sabrina

Age 28

Spring arrives early, the yellow daffodils and purple hyacinths popping free of the soil in every planter that I pass. I pick up a fragrant bouquet on my way back to my condo. Maybe Adam is right. We should get a yard.

It’s been three months and we’re finally starting to breathe easy. No one has questioned Adam, myself, or anyone that we know of about Marlowe at all. Of all the murders that plagued Chicago last year, solving his is probably on the bottom of the list.

The real source of our anxiety has been dealing with the children Rupert has been keeping a secret. Adam no longer calls him Father. He stepped aside after we hired a lawyer to take him to a competency hearing. That didn’t last long, so we contacted a reporter from a scandalous British tabloid and threatened Rupert with an exposé that would destroy his legacy. That’s the most important thing to a wealthy old man and he finally shrank back into the shadows where he belongs. He barely speaks to Adam now. Good riddance.

Most of the little boys have been adopted. Adam and Shane check in on their families regularly and provide financial support to help them deal with the difficult children. There are three little ones left that might never assimilate properly and the teens are all but beyond hope. Now a new set of princes live in a mansion and get dropped off at their private schools in limousines, but they come home to a staff of concerned counselors and tutors. Philosophy and the study of ethics is emphasized more heavily than business, but eventually all of the Goodsons decide to absorb them into the fold after college. It’s not perfect, but it’s the only form of family that they know.

Adam surprises me and flies home for Easter Sunday to accompany me to dinner with my mother and sister. He hates turkey, but loves ham. Sun gives him a hug and Mom goes easy on him with the questions. I think it’s just about as uncomfortable as he’s ever been. Still, he went with me. It can only get easier from here.

“We need to go look at a house,” Adam announces as soon as I step through the door.

“Now?” I pull out a step stool to retrieve a vase from the cabinet, but he reaches above me and gets it.

“It just went on the market this morning.”

“Adam, I’m not sure it’s the right time. I haven’t been working and—”

He chuckles. “Seriously? Let’s not pretend that money is an issue.”

It’s not the issue. There’s a huge issue that needs to be taken into consideration, but I don’t know how to tell him. “Where is it?”

“North side. Decent sized yard.”

“That’s vague.”

Adam takes the bouquet from my hands and drops it into the water. “Just come with me.”

I sigh. “Let me change my shoes. My feet are killing me.”

We drive up there and he’s tapping his thumb against the steering wheel the entire time. The place is nice, but it’s expensive as hell and it just went on the market. I doubt anyone will beat us to it.

The neighborhood is amazing. There are trees on the sidewalks and kids playing in the yards. Leaves have just started to decorate the branches with dots of light green. We pull into the driveway and I can’t believe how many tulips there are in the gardens around the three story greystone house. It’s perfect.

I’m expecting there to be a realtor waiting for us, but Adam scoops me into his arms and carries me over the threshold like he owns the place. The inside is even better than the outside.

“Wow.” I run my hand across the mantle of the fireplace. “This place is pretty amazing.”

“I’m glad you like it,” he says. “Because I bought it.”

“Of course you did.” Even though I would have wanted to jump on this too, I turn around to admonish him. I find Adam dropped down to one knee in front of me, a little black box in his hand.
Oh. My. God.

The knot in his throat jerks as he swallows nervously. “Will you marry me, Sabrina,” he asks, popping the lid open to reveal a ridiculously huge diamond because he’s Adam and there’s no way he’d pick anything else. I gasp at the sight of the stone and the expression on his face. “Well?”

I take a deep breath, completely stunned. “I can’t.”

“What? Why?”

“Because…” I stammer as he rises to his feet. “Because…”

“Don’t leave me hanging, Bree.”

“I’m pregnant,” I blurt out.

“You’re…” A bigger version of the smile that brightened his face during the proposal returns. “Really?”

“Yes.”

He wraps his arms around my waist, lifting me into the air and spinning me around. His mouth clamps onto mine as me feet hit the floor, lingering for a moment before kissing down my neck and chest as he sinks to his knees to rest his forehead on my stomach. “I can’t believe it,” he murmurs, lifting my shirt and pressing his lips to my navel.

“I can’t either.”

“I thought you were on birth—”

“I am. Well, I was. Turns out that I’m really bad at remembering to take pills on time.”

“When did you find out?”

“Yesterday morning.”

He grins. “I suppose that’s not too long to keep me in the dark. And it seems like a pretty good reason to say yes.” Adam pops the ring box open.

“That’s not why I’m saying yes,” I breathe, holding out a shaking hand.

“But you are marrying me?”

“Yes.”

Oh, my God! I can’t believe this is
finally
happening! He slides the ring on my finger and stands up. The excitement finally washes over me and I squeal, much to his delight.

“Come on. I want to show you the rest of the house. I’ll sell it if you don’t like it, but I can’t imagine that you won’t.”

“Wait,” I say. “I don’t want to get married while I’m pregnant. It’s bad luck.”

“I’ve never heard of that superstition, but I’m not in a hurry after all these years.”

“But I do want a big wedding. A big dress, at least. But not a big belly. And the last name thing… I don’t know if I… And we have to—”

Adam’s fingers skim over my jaw and he kisses me, stopping my rambling. “Whatever you want, Bree. However you want it.”

It won’t be that simple, I’m sure, but I’ll take it for now. “Are you sure?”

“All I want is you.”

I bite my bottom lip as I smile. “Okay. Let’s see the house.”

We’re barely moved in before I go into labor at 28 weeks. Our twins are tiny and fragile, but oh so perfect. According to their father, Molly and Simon graduated early, just like we did. Natural born overachievers. And now they’ll be in our wedding pictures.

The End

**************

CAPTOR
,
Shane and Zoey’s story, is currently available.

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Thanks for reading. –Ember Chase