He hesitated, and I knew I wasn't going to like what he said next. I was right. "I want you to ask Angelica to send me the video footage from yesterday. Security needs to see it."
"Griffen–" I started to protest, horror soaking me in ice at the thought of our security team watching Tyler threaten me–his ugly words, my weakness–everything I wanted to keep a secret.
"Parker, we need to know what we're dealing with."
"Just you," I whispered. "Please? I don't want anyone else to see it. I don't want them to think I'm–" My voice faded away. I couldn't bring myself to say the words. Weak. Stupid. Pathetic. A victim.
This was my home. Here, I just wanted to be Parker, not Tyler's wife.
Griffen gave a sharp nod. "Just me. I promise."
"Okay." I set the rest of my sandwich on the plate, my appetite gone.
Griffen changed the subject to his wife, Hope. She was asleep, in her second trimester of pregnancy and still unable to resist a nap in the afternoon. Hope and Griffen had been childhood friends, then bitter enemies, when she'd ended up being the catalyst for his exile. In a million years, I never thought they'd end up married, much less deeply in love and eagerly anticipating the birth of their first child.
Watching Griffen with her, his tenderness and casual affection, the way we always seemed to stumble in on them kissing or cuddling, had been a big part of my decision to leave Tyler. I wanted that. Not with Griffen, obviously, but with someone. Someday. I had to divorce Tyler first.
As if she'd heard us talking about her, Hope appeared in the doorway just as I finished my tea. Giving her a hug on my way out, I wandered to the terrace behind the house, wanting to stretch out somewhere comfortable. Not in my room. I didn't feel like being inside.
I lay down on one of the lounge chairs looking out over the green lawn. The formal gardens of Heartstone Manor were barren, the squares of the parterre design defined but empty. For some reason no one understood, my father had ignored the state of the house in the years before he died. He'd fired the groundskeeper, along with most of the Manor staff, and let the estate fall apart around him.
Hawk Bristol, our current groundskeeper, was also head of security. After someone tried to run Griffen off the road, he'd decided security was a higher priority than the gardens. No one argued.
It was still beautiful, even without the flowers and decoratively trimmed shrubs. July in the mountains was just about perfect–the trees every shade of green, the skies electric-blue, the breeze chasing off the heat before it could build to unbearable levels.
I tried to relax. I was home. I was safe. I didn't have to worry about paying Angelica. I'd dodged Griffen's question about money, and he'd let me off easy with his questions about Tyler. He'd wanted to push. I was glad he hadn't. I needed a break.
I needed to remind myself that everything was okay. For now. The sparkle of the pool caught my eyes, and I drifted, letting the sun soak into my skin and warm my cold, stiff bones. The thick cushion of the lounge cradling me, I dropped my head back and watched the deep green leaves of the forest swaying in the breeze.
I'd lived all these years with Tyler and never quite understood how much I missed Heartstone Manor. Growing up here hadn't been easy. My father had been distant, demanding, and cruel. My mother had been everything he wasn't, but she'd died when I was nine. After that, we were mostly on our own. Miss Martha tried to keep an eye on us, but she couldn't parent ten children and run the estate.
I'd been lonely, grieving, deeply afraid of my father, and desperate for a different life. So desperate I hadn't realized that my home wasn't the problem. I loved my home. It was Prentice who made everyone miserable. Now that he was gone, I could remember everything I loved about this place. Some of my siblings resented the will's dictate that we all live here for five years, but not me. For the first time in my life, I was happy to be exactly where I was.
A child shouted, another following behind. Then the rumble of a voice, older but not adult. I cracked my eyes open, shifting my gaze back to the pool to see my brother Tennessee and his girlfriend Scarlett, her long red hair flames in the bright sun. They were joined by Scarlett's two boys, August and Thatcher, and Savannah's young son, Nicky.
Seconds later, a shout and a splash drifted across the gardens. My eyes slid shut, my lips curling into a satisfied smile. Tenn had fallen in love with Scarlet in the blink of an eye. We were all still reeling from their lightning-fast courtship, but no one could deny they fit each other to perfection. I'd never seen him so happy.
It had been a special kind of fun to watch my too-serious brother fall head over heels for his ready-made new family. Fun and wonderful, but also another reminder of everything I was missing by staying with Tyler.
I drifted off, dozing in the sun, lulled by splashing from the pool and more shouts as Tenn tossed the younger boys in the water over and over. Hours later, I woke to the soft touch of Savannah's hand on my shoulder.
"Sorry to wake you, Parker, but dinner's in fifteen minutes and I thought you might be hungry." I blinked up at Savanna's kind smile. "I'm so glad you're home and everything went all right in New York."
Shifting to sit up, I set my bare feet on the cool slate terrace. Savannah reached out a hand, and I took it, letting her help me to my feet. I wobbled a little and laughed. "I can't believe I fell asleep. I feel like I was away for a year instead of two days."
"I know what you mean," Savannah said. Flinging her arm around my shoulders, she gave me a quick squeeze and a gentle shove in the direction of the terrace doors. I changed for dinner as I usually did, but not into a cocktail dress. Instead, I traded my red gauzy sundress for a white poet's blouse and a pair of ocean-blue capris.
My stomach fluttered as I walked into the dining room, expecting a third-degree. All I got were words of welcome. No one asked about Tyler or what I'd been doing in New York. Everyone left me alone, even my usually nosy aunt Ophelia and always bitchy cousin Bryce. I found myself back in my room early, my eyes heavy and my body desperate for more sleep.
I washed my face, pulled on a camisole and loose cotton bottoms, and crawled into bed, wishing I was already asleep and not sure what to do about the hollow space under my heart. A hollow space exactly the shape of Nash Kingsley.
Damn it. I wasn't supposed to miss him.
It didn't even make sense. Why would I miss him?
As if he was reading my mind, my phone chimed with a text message.
You get home okay?
