motherfucking shit father killed her, some pictures, and fucked-up memories.
That was what I had.
That was what they left me with.
That was what they left in me.
And now I’d turned into him—the man I hated more than anything in this world. I’d turned into a monumental dick and hurt the woman I loved because I was angry, grieving, and lost.
Jesus fuck.
I should have stayed away from her. I knew better than to let her in. I knew I had him inside of me, his filthy, tainted blood running through my veins.
I knew it but I couldn’t stop myself.
I was out my front door and in my truck before I understood what I was doing. My need to get to Hadley to explain overrode all common sense.
No one deserved a woman as good as Hadley Walker. Me especially. I’d fought it. I’d denied it. I’d shoved it away. I’d run from it but I couldn’t outrun it.
Five minutes into my drive, my grief-clogged mind cleared and I became painfully aware of how bad the streets were. Rivers of rainwater flooded the pavement, broken tree limbs littered the sidewalks and traffic lanes, thunder and lightning lit and rumbled.
Christ, Hadley’s out in this.
I kept my eyes peeled for her car as I slowly made my way to her house. When I pulled in front of her condo, I was praising all things holy I hadn’t driven up to an accident involving Hadley’s Camry.
I parked in the guest parking and jogged to her front door and knocked.
No answer.
I knocked again, louder.
No answer.
Knowing she’d be pissed but having no other option, I used the key she’d given me and let myself in. The downstairs was dark. Not bothering to flip on the lights, I headed for the stairs and called out her name.
No answer.
The upstairs was just as dark as the downstairs and my heart started pounding in my chest.
Fucking shit.
I made my way back down the stairs, through the kitchen, and checked the one car garage she hadn’t been able to use until just recently when they’d cleaned all of the scrap building supplies she’d been storing.
Empty.
Nausea roiled as Judge Patterson’s angry words at my father’s sentencing slammed into my chest.
“Mr. Hewitt, actions have consequences. Your unlawful and frankly despicable actions were the direct cause of Nicole Hewitt’s death.”
Actions have consequences.
I’d never forgotten that.
But twice now my actions had hurt Hadley.
She wasn’t home.
There was a tropical storm tearing through the streets. Streets she was right then forced to be on because I’d kicked her out of my house.
I was no better than my father.
I was a fucking Hewitt.
Fucking Christ.
What would my consequences be for behaving like a goddamned weak asshole?
I was back out in my truck when I tried to call her.
No fucking answer.
I tried again and again, and in between calls I texted her, begging her to check in.
I got no reply.
Then I was back on the road aimlessly searching.
Hours passed and still no Hadley.
Hours of excruciating pain.
August 25th.
A black day always.
Nicole’s birthday. The anniversary of her death.
But as I drove through flooded streets with the wrath of Mother Nature booming around me, I knew if something happened to Hadley I wouldn’t survive my penance.
The rain had finally slowed to a light fall but the wind was still brutal as I pulled in front of Hadley’s condo for the fourth time. The previous three times she hadn’t been there. But she still wasn’t answering her cell and I’d filled her voice mail with pleading messages, so I was checking again.
But I was not hopeful.
Just like the times before, from the sidewalk I could see that the downstairs was dark.
Fuck.
I let myself in and was preparing to yell her name when the kitchen and dining room lights came on and I froze.
Then I could no longer keep my feet.
The pain of my knees hitting the wood floor didn’t register.
Yet, there was no relief, even though Hadley was standing with a surprised expression on her face.
“Brady?”
“Jesus fuck.”
My head dropped forward and I choked down the sting in the back of my throat.
I had to fix this.
I had to fix whatever was broken inside of me.
I had to do it for Hadley.
19
The surprise of seeing Brady in my living room took a moment to wear off. But even when it did, I remained frozen in alarm.
Brady was on his knees, ass to his ankles, head bowed, both palms now on the floor in front of him. He was also breathing heavily, his torso swaying with every breath.
The