Taken by Storm (26 page)

Read Taken by Storm Online

Authors: Kelli Maine

Tags: #Fiction, #Erotica, #General, #Fiction / Erotica, #Fiction / Coming Of Age, #Fiction / Romance - Erotica, #Romance, #Fiction / Contemporary Women, #Fiction / Romance - Suspense, #Fiction / Romance - Contemporary

MJ found Maddie sitting in the window seat in her room gazing out at the rain and wind-battered flowers and bushes. She turned to face him when he entered her room. Neither of them said a word.

He took her left hand and rubbed his thumb over her bare ring finger. “Was it hard?”

He hadn’t left her to take a shower. He’d left her to call Talan and break the news that she didn’t want to marry him.

Her eyes flitted up to his, then down to her hand in his. “Yes and no.” She threaded their fingers together and brought his hand to her lips. “Yes, because I hated hurting him. No, because I knew it was the right thing to do.”

MJ flattened his palm against her cheek and ran his thumb across her lips.

“I’ve been in love with you the whole time I was with
him,” she said. “He never had all of me. Only a part I let him have…” She looked up at him through her dark lashes, blue eyes blazing. “On loan from you. No part of me ever belonged to him. It was always you.”

How could he possibly be this fortunate? A few days ago, there were cracks and craters in him that had been empty for so long, he didn’t expect them to ever be filled. Now he had his dad, he had a twin sister that he’d have to find a way to come to accept, and he had Maddie.

Maddie. His soul. His heart.

His home.

MJ thought back to tossing a penny in the fountain out on the patio with Holly and Sam, wishing for somewhere to belong. Funny how quickly wishes could come true.

“It’ll always be you,” Maddie said, reaching up and stroking the side of his face.

MJ pulled her to her feet and wrapped her in his arms. She smelled like vanilla and spice and he couldn’t inhale enough of her. Her soft, silky hair caressed his cheek resting on top of her head, and her soft, full breasts pressed against his chest. “Home,” he whispered.

She squeezed him tight. “Home,” she said.

Twenty-Eight

Three days later

The hospital smelled like a sickening mixture of cafeteria food and Lysol, making Maddie’s stomach gurgle. She jabbed the elevator button for the second floor and shifted from foot to foot waiting for the doors to close.

MJ was with Merrick and Rachael at an apartment Merrick owned in Atlanta. He’d let them stay there while her dad was in the hospital since it was close. Maddie told MJ she needed some time alone with her dad today and she’d call if he woke up. The roller-coaster ride of the past few days left her feeling claustrophobic and in need of air and space to get her mind wrapped around everything that happened.

She approached room two-eighty-one and peeked inside. The bed closest to the door was empty, and her father’s frail frame lay under the white sheet on the far bed beside the windows. He was buried under wires and tubes. Machines blinked and beeped around him.

“Daddy?” she whispered, crossing the room to his bed. “I’m back.” She’d spent the better part of the past few days in this room, only leaving when MJ absolutely insisted she come back to the apartment and get some sleep. She bent
and kissed the top of her dad’s head. His gray, wiry hair prickled her nose. “I’m sorry.”

She sat in the chair beside his bed and waited for a nurse to come in and give her an update. When a half hour went by, she turned on the TV to an old movie and let her mind drift to the night before. Exhausted and stressed, MJ had made love to her so gently, so breathtakingly, she’d been shattered and whole at the same time. Needy and complete. Only MJ could make her feel two extremes at once.

Where would they go from here?

She couldn’t let her father live alone, and there was no way he was going back to the Rocha Estate. She’d have to find a place for them to live. He’d retire, and she’d find a job to help supplement his Social Security.

MJ would go back to school. She’d see him on weekends. He’d get to know his father.

It would be good.

But it didn’t feel good. She wanted his promise of every night in his arms. But, she couldn’t do that and live with her dad at the same time. She was twenty-four, but she wouldn’t throw her private life in his face.

She and MJ would have their time, but it couldn’t be until he was ready for the level of commitment she was. She’d marry him tomorrow if she could, but he needed to focus on graduating and running Rocha Enterprises for now.

If he knew she was making decisions for him, he’d be pissed. He was a man and she didn’t need to watch out for
him. Or so he said. But, she’d always watch out for him. She loved him. It had nothing to do with age.

A nurse finally came in. She said Maddie’s dad’s vital signs were all good and they expected him to wake up any time. The swelling in his head had gone down and as soon as he was awake, they would take the oxygen mask off. He had a few bruises and abrasions on his arms and legs, but nothing was broken.

“He hit his head pretty hard for only falling down the stairs, didn’t he?” Maddie said.

“We have orders to call the police when he wakes. The doctor alerted a social worker to the case and they want to send over an investigator to speak with him when he’s able.”

“Good,” Maddie said, resting her hand on her father’s arm. “Someone did this to him.”

The nurse jotted some numbers down on her dad’s chart and left the room. Maddie’s stomach growled, having not eaten all day. Since her dad was still unconscious, she decided to head down to the ground floor and see what she could find for dinner in the cafeteria. Hopefully, they had a decent cup of coffee. “Be right back,” she told him, and patted his hand.

The cafeteria was enormous, with hot food stations, a salad bar, a deli case and dessert counter. She was starving and wanted one of everything.

Maddie put a turkey sandwich and cup of broccoli cheese soup on a tray before filling a paper cup with steaming hot coffee. She paid and made her way back up to the second floor in the elevator.

The doors opened. She stepped out, turned the corner and froze seeing three policemen standing outside her father’s room. Rushing forward, she almost dumped her tray. “What happened?” she asked.

“Peach?” she heard from inside the room. “Is that you?”

“Dad.” She pushed her way inside.

He was awake. The nurse was checking his blood pressure, and a uniformed officer stood beside his bed with a tablet.

“You’re awake,” Maddie said, sitting her tray on his side table, and kissing him on the cheek. “What happened?”

He closed his eyes and shook his head in disbelief. “Enzo hit me in the back of the head with something. I didn’t see what. I fell down the stairs and that’s all I know.”

“Will you be pressing assault charges?” the officer asked.

“Yes,” she answered for her dad. “Absolutely.”

Her dad squeezed her hand. “I’m glad you’re here, safe with me Peach.”

Twenty-Nine

M
J sat with his dad, Beck, Rachael and Joan on the balcony of his dad’s downtown Atlanta studio apartment. The past few days had passed in a blur. He’d spent all of his time at the hospital with Maddie when he wasn’t asleep, or feeling guilty for keeping her awake. He couldn’t help it. He’d let too many days pass without feeling her naked underneath him. Without making her cry out his name.

Today Maddie asked him for some time alone with her dad at the hospital. He hated leaving her, hated that she needed space, but knew he had to give it to her. He was just glad he had Merrick and Rachael, hell even Beck to keep his mind occupied.

“I’m giving you one hour,” Rachael said, wrapping her arms around Merrick’s neck from behind his chair. “Then I’m taking you
and you,”
she pointed to Beck, “to the hospital to get checked out. So don’t get too comfortable.”

Merrick had resisted her urges for the past few days, but this morning when he flew Beck, Joan and Riley in to get some work done, Rachael declared she wouldn’t wait any longer and insisted Beck was getting his broken ribs looked at by a doctor, too.

“You’re not
my
woman,” Beck said, fiddling with his cello strings. “I don’t have to do what you say.”

“If you want me to let you play that thing for the anniversary party on the island you’ll do what I say.” Rachael grinned knowing she had him cornered. “On the condition that you actually get it to sound like a musical instrument instead of a dying goose.”

With a cigar hanging out of the corner of his mouth, Beck smirked and ran his bow across the strings making the worst sound MJ had ever heard.

MJ laughed. He never imagined hanging out with his dad and his dad’s friends like this and feeling so comfortable, like he was one of them.

Beside him at the round, glass-topped table, Joan shuffled some paperwork. “I can’t believe you’re making me supervise Riley and Jesse on the bandstand build. Those two would be lucky to build a birdhouse, let alone an actual structure.”

“Well,” Merrick said, “I have some news. You’re being reassigned again. The bandstand will be your last project at Turtle Tear.”

She dropped her papers and looked up, first at Merrick, then at Beck, finally to Rachael, and her eyes narrowed, accusingly.

“This is news to me too,” Rachael said. “I had nothing to do with whatever they have brewing.”

“Right,” Joan said, propping a forearm on the table. “What will my new assignment be?”

Merrick smiled. “You’ll be working for MJ on his first property.”

“What?” MJ said, gripping the arms of his chair.

“My exact thought.” Joan pushed her chair back and crossed her legs. “I can’t wait to hear this.”

Merrick took a sip of iced tea. “The first time I spoke to Rachael,” he said, “she told me the story of Turtle Tear’s founders.”

“Archie and Ingrid,” MJ said. “She’s been going on and on about them.”

Merrick laughed and took Rachael’s hand. “They’re the inspiration behind everything on the island,” he said. “When Rachael told me I had a son, I went a little nuts. I didn’t know what to do, or where to go. I should’ve come right to you, but—”

“But, being an idiot is part of your charm,” Rachael said, beaming at him.

“I’m glad you find it charming in addition to frustrating.” Merrick kissed her and continued. “I ended up calling Max, my lawyer and advisor. As I was talking to him, spilling this insane story of ours, it hit me and I knew what I had to do. I’d given Turtle Tear to Rachael, and I had to give a piece of the same history to you.”

Merrick slid a file folder off of the table and passed it to MJ. “The Weston Sugar Plantation, Archibald Weston’s family home. It’s about a half hour south of St. Petersburg, just outside of Palmetto, and it’s all yours.”

Shocked, MJ opened the folder with fumbling fingers and took out a photo. He studied the white-columned, antebellum plantation house. It was practically falling down. “It’s incredible. Is it safe to go inside?”

“It’s safe. Mostly.” Merrick pointed to the west wing. “I wouldn’t walk around in this section though. I’ll train you, teach you everything you need to know.”

MJ couldn’t stop staring at the pictures, then at Merrick. “I can’t believe this. Thanks, um… Dad.”

Merrick smiled and rubbed his hand across his stubble-covered chin. Watching him, Rachael laughed. “I think you’ve left him speechless, MJ.”

MJ pressed his palm flat against the file folder. “I’m the one who should be speechless.” He handed the file to Joan. “Looks like we better get busy. Restoring this place is going to be practically impossible.”

Joan shot him a condescending smirk. “I don’t know the word impossible.”

“She’s a pain in the ass,” Beck said, tightening a cello string, “but she’ll get it taken care of.”

“Riley!” Merrick shouted. “Now!”

After a minute, Riley came out of the sliding glass doors from the kitchen holding a bottle of champagne and a stack of clear plastic cups. He handed them to Merrick. “Am I getting reassigned to Beck now that he doesn’t have an assistant?”

“Do you want to work for Beck?” Merrick ask, popping the champagne cork.

“Your sorry ass isn’t working for me,” Beck said. “I hear you can’t even build a birdhouse. If you can string a cello there might be hope for you though.”

Merrick patted Riley on the back. “Looks like you’re stuck with me.”

Riley sat down across from Beck and grabbed a pack of strings from him. “Who said I can’t string a cello?”

“I’m that bad to work for?” Merrick asked pouring each of them a little champagne.

MJ laughed. “Maybe you training me isn’t such a good idea.”

His phone vibrated in his pocket. When he pulled it out and saw Maddie’s name on the screen, a surreal feeling passed through him.

They were off the island and she was still his. It hadn’t been a dream or his imagination. She came back to him. “Hey, Mads,” he said, answering.

“It was Enzo,” she said. “My dad’s awake. He remembers.”

“What?” MJ shot forward in his chair.

“The police have gone to arrest him,” she said.

Whoa. MJ knew his grandfather was capable of being cruel, but this was beyond his imagining. “I’m sorry, Mads. Tell your dad I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault. Don’t be sorry. He’s manipulated you your entire life, too.”

Merrick leaned forward in his chair and nudged MJ’s arm. “Everything okay?” he mouthed.

MJ shook his head. “I’m coming,” he told Maddie. “I’ll be there soon.”

He ended the call and grit his teeth with his effort to hold back the slur of expletives that wanted to erupt from his mouth. “Mr. Simcoe’s awake. He remembers what happened to him. It was Enzo.”

Merrick pounded a fist on the table. “They’re pressing charges?”

“The police went to arrest him.” MJ let his head fall back and groaned. “I can’t believe my grandfather did this to her dad.”

“She won’t hold this against you,” Rachael said, coming to stand beside his chair. “I don’t know her well, but it’s pretty clear how she feels about you.”

MJ scooted down in the chair so his head rested against the back. “I just can’t believe after everything… this is like the cherry on top, you know?”

“Think they’ll find him?” Beck asked. “Enzo? From everything I’ve heard about him, he doesn’t seem like the kind of guy who would sit around waiting for the cops to show up.”

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