Take Me in the Night (Take Me #1) Page 2

  When I’d been arrested, I’d thought for sure I’d be in that jail cell a few hours at most. I knew the security tape pointed to me because Foster had stolen my letterman jacket and put on my baseball cap and a bandana. We looked very different, and I was broader and taller than my brother, but since my brother had kept his face hidden, the sheriff thought it was me. Or maybe he had just wanted it to be me.

  Brantley Graham had the sheriff and the district attorney in his pocket and was always looking for ways to get me arrested. I’d kept my nose clean my entire life, only to go down for something I didn’t do. But I took the fall because I didn’t want Foster to go to prison. Not only had he robbed a gas station, but also a well-known member of the community had died during the commission of the crime, adding on another charge. But I wasn’t worried because I was innocent, and I had an alibi.

  An alibi who never showed up. An alibi who never vouched for me. An alibi who thought she’d let me rot in prison the last twelve years.

  My only saving grace was the judge on my case. I had a bench trial instead of a jury trial, and he pulled me aside and talked to me. Something virtually unheard of. He pulled up the surveillance video, looked at me point blank, and dared me to tell him that it was me in the video.

  After being railroaded by the sheriff and the DA, I almost cried that someone finally saw the truth and was on my side.

  The judge was no dummy. When he asked me if I knew who had done it, I lied, saying I didn’t know, and I thought he knew I’d been untruthful. I didn’t know if it was because of that or because of some other reason, but the judge gave me two options: go to prison for twenty years or get the hell out of Brook Creek.

  I chose to get the hell out of Brook Creek.

  The other stipulation was, I had to leave everyone behind. I thought the judge had been afraid that my old life would drag me back in. It was true that he really couldn’t force me to move away in exchange for my freedom, but the only person I cared about had chosen her father’s money over me anyway.

  The judge dismissed my case with prejudice, and he sealed both my record and the court case. He promised me he was going to look into the sheriff and DA, but he died in a car accident less than six months later. Coincidence? I’d never know.

  As a kid with no money, a scholarship that had been yanked the moment I was arrested, and only a high school diploma, I joined the military. After my first four years in the Navy, I told my brother where I really was. I knew Foster was beating himself up for what had happened to me, and I wanted him to know the truth. Turned out, my arrest had helped my brother get his own life on the right track.

  I’d helped him buy the mechanic shop in Brook Creek, and he was the one I sent money to every month. He never told my mom or my sisters where it had come from, not that my mom would care too much. As long as she had money for her next bottle of vodka, she didn’t ask questions.

  Of course, that was why she had cirrhosis now. That, and emphysema from smoking a pack of cigarettes a day.

  That was why I had decided it was time to go home.

  Even though my mother was a drunk, she was still my mother. And, even though it hadn’t been the full twenty years of my theoretical sentence, I was leaving Virginia. My family needed me.

  Another one of my teammates walked over to where Flash and I stood. “You have quite the going-away party, Mad Dog,” Evan “Ice” Malone told me, his voice laced with sarcasm.

  When I’d enlisted in the Navy, there had been rumors about my arrest, even with the records sealed. I had to prove myself to my superiors and to my teammates that I was trustworthy, that I would and could follow orders, and that they could trust me with a weapon. It took time, but it was worth it. I had made my way up the ranks to Chief Petty Officer, and I had the best damn career and military family. It was going to be tough to leave them.

  “I didn’t want a big party,” I told Evan.

  It made going back to Iowa even harder. Plus, I had an early flight, and I decided a hangover didn’t need to make the trip home with me. I needed my wits to be at full capacity when I got back home.

  I was just grateful I wouldn’t have to see Addison again. I’d heard how she had gone to college like we’d planned. Part of me was proud of her for getting out, but the other part of me was angry that she’d moved on like I hadn’t even existed. I never asked my brother about her, and he never offered up any more information. I supposed I’d run into her sooner or later. Her father still lived in our town, and she was bound to visit him sometime.

  “What does Stephanie think about you leaving?” Evan asked me.

  I shrugged. “I haven’t told her.”

  Flash spit out the beer he’d just taken a sip of. “You haven’t told your girlfriend that you quit the Teams and are moving halfway across the country?”

  I took a long drink of my own beer. “Nope. She ghosted me after I told her I was retiring from the SEAL Teams.”

  “I knew that bitch was a Frog Hog.”

  I scowled at Evan. We’d broken up, but I’d still dated the woman.

  “What? You know that’s all she wanted. Status.”

  Evan was right, but I didn’t like to admit he was right.

  “Yeah,” I reluctantly agreed.

  “So, do you care if I call her up?”

  “You just called her a bitch,” I pointed out.

  Evan shrugged. “She’s still hot.” He grabbed his crotch. “And I have a hog for her.”

  I rolled my eyes. I should tell him no, but I really didn’t care. Stephanie had been fun for a while. I didn’t love her, and she didn’t love me.

  “Go for it.”

  She’d probably eat Evan alive anyway.

  “Is your family excited that you’re retired and coming home?”

  I took another sip of my beer. “They don’t know.” Except for my brother.

  “What?” Evan asked.

  “It’s complicated.”

  Flash was the only one who knew the whole story, and he wasn’t talking.

  “Is this why you never go home to visit?”

  “Pretty much.”

  “Wow,” Evan said. “Everyone’s going to be so excited to see you.”

  Everyone’s going to be something. I didn’t know if excited was the right word.

  3

  Addison

  Friday afternoon, instead of going home and resting like I’d planned, I was headed to my father’s house. I needed to check up on him, and since I’d taken the afternoon off, I decided to get it over with.

  When I reached the front door, it opened before I could let myself in or knock.

  “Hey, Henry,” I said to the butler.

  “Miss.” Henry nodded and closed the door behind me.

  “Do you know where my father is?”

  “In the study, miss.”

  I sighed with frustration and marched toward the study. When I got there, my father was sitting behind his desk.

  “What are you doing?” I demanded.

  My father jumped in his seat. “I didn’t hear you come in.”

  Once upon a time, my father would have heard me come through the front door. He wasn’t the man he used to be. He’d gotten so much older in such a short amount of time. His dark hair was now all gray, and the wrinkles in his face had deepened. His hazel eyes looked tired all the time now. The stroke hadn’t helped.

  “Daddy, you know you’re supposed to be resting. The only reason the doctor let you leave the nursing home was because you’d promised to rest at home.”

  “But there is so much work to be done.”

  “Isn’t that why you hired Simon? Where is he?”

  “He had to go to a meeting since I’m…indisposed.”

  My father was a proud man and a workaholic. I knew it killed him to be homebound and to only have limited use of his left side. He had to walk with a cane, and he didn’t want any business partners to see him looking vulnerable. That was where Simon came in. Simon had become the face
of my father’s various businesses.

  “Maybe you should think about selling some of the properties.”

  My father looked at me like I was crazy.

  He owned the only bank in town and several buildings on that block, including mine. Managing numerous properties was a juggling act that needed constant attention.

  “You know what the doctor said about stress.”

  “This conversation is stressful.”

  I sighed. He was impossible.

  The click-clacks of dress shoes got louder outside the study door, announcing Simon’s arrival.

  My father visibly brightened upon seeing his protégé. “Simon, how did it go?”

  “Very well, sir.” Simon looked at me. “Good afternoon, Addison.”

  His beady eyes leered at me, and his smile made me want to go and shower. His white-blond hair had enough product in it for all of Brook Creek.

  “Simon,” I said out of politeness. “I was just telling my father that he needed to rest.”

  When he didn’t say anything, I narrowed my gaze at him.

  “Ah, yes, sir. You know what the doctor said.”

  My father put his hands up in surrender. “Fine. I will go back to my room like an invalid.”

  Of course, my father would listen to a man he’d known for six months rather than his daughter he’d known for thirty years.

  “Daddy, you don’t have to lie in bed. You could sit on the couch and read or go to the den and watch some TV.”

  I got the crazy look again. My father didn’t do television.

  “My room is fine, thank you. Can you call Beatrice?”

  “Yes.”

  Beatrice was my father’s nurse, and I was sure whatever my father was paying her wasn’t enough. I went over to the intercom and put a broadcast to the whole house, asking her to come to the study. My father often gave her breaks, saying she needed downtime. But it was really my father’s way of escaping her watch.

  A minute later, Beatrice came in and shook her finger at my father. “Mr. Graham, you snuck away again.”

  “Help me to my room, Beatrice.”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Once my father was safely out of hearing distance, I turned to Simon. “You’re supposed to be helping him slow down.”

  Simon put his hands in the pockets of his suit. “I don’t work for you. I work for him.”

  “Yeah, well, if you don’t help him slow down, you won’t be working for anyone.”

  “You know, if you would marry me, then your father might settle down.”

  Ugh. I’d rather die alone with a hundred cats.

  “We’ve already discussed this. I’m not marrying you, Simon.”

  His thin shoulder shrugged. “Suit yourself. I guess I’ll keep doing what I was hired to do then.”

  Simon went and sat behind my father’s large desk. I left the house, exhausted.

  It was probably time for me to go home and take my nap.

  4

  Maddox

  My brother met me at the baggage area in the Des Moines International Airport. I almost didn’t recognize him. I supposed he felt the same about me. I’d added three inches of height, added fifty pounds of muscle, and lost several inches of hair since I’d left town at eighteen.

  Foster looked the same, just older. I guessed a part of me had been looking for the seventeen-year-old boy I’d left behind. Not the twenty-nine-year-old man standing before me.

  “Hey,” Foster said.

  “Hey.”

  “Are we supposed to hug or some shit?”

  I laughed and held out my hand. “How about a handshake?”

  My brother grasped my hand and pulled me into his arms. “I missed you, brother.”

  I put my arms around him. “I missed you, too.” Until now, I hadn’t realized how much.

  “I’m sorry.”

  I didn’t ask him to explain. I knew what he was talking about. “It was probably for the best.”

  Foster stepped back. “I should never have let you take the fall. It was—”

  “Stop.” I didn’t want to rehash the past. There was nothing that could change what had already happened, so there was no reason to go there. “It’s okay. Really.” If things hadn’t happened the way they did, I never would have joined the Navy and become a SEAL. I would never regret that.

  My only regret had long brown hair and big brown eyes. And there was nothing I could do about that either.

  Foster smiled. “Thank you.”

  I was pretty sure there were tears in my brother’s eyes as he turned away, but I didn’t call him out on it. I felt some of my own trying to escape.

  Thankfully, the baggage carousel started up, and luggage began dropping out of the ceiling onto it.

  While I watched for my bag, I asked my brother, “Did you tell anyone I was coming?”

  “Nah. I thought it would be a nice surprise to bring you to dinner.”

  I looked at my watch. It was after 2100 hours, and Brook Creek was over an hour away.

  “You were supposed to be here six hours ago.”

  “Yeah, sorry about that, man. I tried to find another flight after my layover was delayed.”

  Foster shrugged. “No big deal. I’ll just bring you to breakfast instead.”

  I arched a brow. “Will Mom even be up then?”

  My brother’s smile was sad. “Yes. Now that she doesn’t drink anymore, she actually gets up before noon.”

  Too bad her sobriety had come too late.

  “Breakfast it is then.” I saw my two huge duffel bags come around the corner. “There’s my stuff.”

  I grabbed my luggage, and we headed to my brother’s car.

  I whistled upon our arrival. “Wow. When the fuck did you get a 1969 Camaro?”

  “About five years ago. I restored this baby myself.”

  I ran my hand over the hood. “Very impressive.”

  I couldn’t tell in the dim light of the parking garage, but I thought my brother blushed.

  “Thank you.” He held out the keys. “Would you like to drive it?”

  “Fuck yeah.”

  He threw me the keys, and I popped the trunk. I tossed my stuff in the back and got behind the wheel. I caressed it like a man out of prison with his first woman.

  “Are you going to screw it or drive it?”

  I laughed. “Drive it. I just wanted us to get to know each other first.” I put the key in the ignition and turned the engine over. I almost had an orgasm at the sound of the motor. “Oh, baby.”

  “She’s a beaut, huh?”

  “Ohhh, yeah.” I put her in drive, and off we went.

  If this was how my move home was going to start, maybe it wouldn’t be so bad.

  We were about five miles outside of town, and I was feeling relaxed and less anxious about seeing my family when lights began to flash in the rearview mirror.

  What the hell?

  I looked down at the speedometer. I was going fifty-eight in a fifty-five. Hardly what one would call speeding.

  With a sigh, I pulled over to the side of the road.

  Foster looked over his shoulder. “You weren’t speeding, were you?”

  “Nope.”

  “Stupid street dance weekend,” he said as he opened his glove compartment. “It’s probably the car. The highway patrol sees it and thinks we’re some young punks who are out, drinking.”

  I squinted into the mirror. It was hard to see the details on the vehicle that had pulled us over, and I couldn’t tell if it was the state patrol or not.

  “Here’s the information you need.”

  I looked over at my brother, grabbed the registration out of his hand, and then fished my wallet out of my back pocket.

  A tap, tap, tap sounded on my window, and I cranked the old-fashioned handle to lower the glass.

  “Good evening—” I began, only to be cut off.

  “Well, well, well, who do we have here? Maddox Wolfe, what the fuck are you doing back in my
town?”

  I looked up into the face of Sheriff Whitlock.

  This prick is still around?

  I was so fucking screwed.

  5

  Addison

  A pounding at my door had me jumping in my seat.

  “Crap.” I’d spilled my popcorn all over my lap.

  I picked up the remote and hit pause.

  I’d been trying to relax since I didn’t know how busy I was going to be tomorrow night. I’d already heard people down on the streets, yelling and partying, and it was only a little after ten o’clock.

  I threw the blanket off my lap and went to my door. I did a quick scan of my T-shirt for any traces of popcorn before I opened the door.

  “Foster?”

  His appearance at my apartment was a complete surprise.

  “I need you to come down to the station.”

  Oh no. “Is it Serena?”

  “No. She’s fine.” He paused. “At least, I think she is. I haven’t seen her since this afternoon.” He waved his hands in front of his face, clearly frustrated. “That’s not why I’m here. Can you come down?”

  My shoulders sagged. It was only Friday. I wasn’t supposed to have to deal with anything tonight. I blew out a breath. A lawyer’s work was never done.

  “Sure.” I looked down at my clothes. Even though I knew the sheriff and all the deputies, I had probably better put something a little more professional on than sweats. “Give me two minutes to change, and then we can go.” I opened the door wider. “Do you want to come in?”

  He shook his head. “No, I’d better get back there. Just come, please.”

  I put my hand on his arm. Despite our differences, he was clearly upset.

  “I promise I’ll be there. Give me seven minutes.” Two to change, five to drive.

  Foster was still wound tight, but he looked a little relieved at my words. “Thank you.” He turned to go. “I’ll see you there.”