Conviction (A Stand-alone Novel): A Bad Boy Romance (28 page)

Autumn stood up and cried out, "Ayden, no!"

The thug crawled to his feet and loomed over me. "I don't care if I have to sign an 'X' in your blood, this deal will be done."

He saw the movement behind his head and caught the fireplace poker in full swing. The move must have smashed some bones in his hand, but he only snarled and yanked it out of Autumn's hands. He brandished it above his head, and I heard the gun shot.

The intruder staggered, dropped the poker, and collapsed on the floor. I held the gun in both hands as I lay on my back. I had shot him straight through the side of the head.

Autumn's mouth opened but before the scream could tear loose, we both heard footsteps charging towards the living room. I scrambled to my feet and whipped around to face the arched doorway. My finger twitched against the warm trigger, but I stopped just in time.

"Father?"

"Jesus, Ayden. What happened? Are you alright?" my father ran into the room, his eyes wild.

"What are you doing here? Are you involved in all of this?" I asked. My brain could not process how my father came to be standing in the center of the disaster.

"Involved? What? No. Are you hurt?"

He came gingerly towards me, and I realized I still held the gun. My father reached out and took it from me. He tucked it in the back of his belt and reached out both hands to me.

"It's over, Ayden. He's dead."

Autumn began to scream. Thick blood from the intruder had pooled around her feet, and she was afraid to move. She tried to muffle the screams, pressing both hands over her mouth while she looked at us with wild eyes, but the screams would not stop.

My father and I both moved towards her, but there was a horrendous splintering sound. The front door broke open and it sounded as if a rhino was tearing down the hallway. An injured and enraged Alan appeared in the door. Blood coursed down half his head and his enormous hands were out, ready to catch and smash the intruder.

Alan skidded to a stop in the doorway and swayed. He grabbed the doorframe and tried to speak. "Cracked me from behind. In my car. Don't know when he got in. He dragged me out to the street, almost got hit by a FedEx truck."

His appearance had broken Autumn out of her terror. She grabbed a handful of white linen napkins off the living room bar cart and ran to him. "You're hurt, Alan. Slow down."

"Everyone's okay?" He asked, his speech started to slur. "It's just a concussion."

Autumn helped Alan into an armchair and dabbed the blood back from his eyes. I turned on my father and demanded an explanation for his presence.

Joseph scrubbed the back of his neck. "I never really left. You threw me out the front door, but I knew we had lots more to talk about. I couldn't leave it like that. So I hid out. It’s a big place."

"You hid in my house? Do you realize you scared Autumn? What were you thinking," I could not keep my voice from raising.

"I know, I'm sorry. Autumn, I did not mean for you to be uncomfortable. I just wanted to make sure that envelope did not get thrown away," my father said.

I went to Autumn. She was concentrating on Alan's wound with shaking hands. It was a long cut but not deep, and Alan nodded to me to say he was alright. He took the bloody linen napkins from her. Autumn stepped back and rubbed her arms. I pulled her close. She was ice cold as shock started to set in.

"He's dead, Ayden. That man is dead," she whispered and swayed against my side. "He had a gun pointed at my head, but now he's dead."

"Self defense," Alan mumbled.

"It doesn't matter," I spat. "I'm still on parole and no matter what the lawyers fight over, I am going back to jail."

I let go of Autumn and gripped my head with both hands. The pain and panic were overwhelming. The guttural yell ripped out of me and I dropped to my knees. It was all over and I would never have a life. I had wasted everything Jace tried to give to me, and now I would die in prison. There was no coming back from it.

"What do mean?" Autumn asked. She sank to the floor next to me. "It was self-defense. He broke into your home and threatened us."

I held both hands over my eyes and shook my head from side to side. There was no way around it. It already felt like the bars were around me. Everything flashed backwards in my mind's eye until it stopped on the first moment I saw Autumn.

"I'm so sorry." I turned to her and folded her in my arms. "This isn't how it was supposed to be for us. I ruined everything."

"You saved my life."

A second gunshot cracked through our misery and the room rang with it. Autumn and I scrambled to our feet to see Alan sitting up. His face was fixed in grim approval. I turned around and felt the room spin around me. Autumn wrapped her arms around my waist and we faced my father.

He stood over the intruder with the gun in his hand.

"What have you done?" I asked in a hoarse whisper.

"I did it. The man almost killed your bodyguard, broke into your house, and threatened us all. I shot him twice in self-defense. The police will hear my confession, find the gunshot residue on my hands, and that will be that," my father said.

Alan spoke up. "That kind of man, that kind of job, no one is going to dig too deep."

"You can't be serious. This is insane. Why would you do that?" I cried.

"For you, son. I understand if you can never forgive me. I can't forgive myself. But what I can do is give you your freedom. Take it and make a good life for yourself. You deserve it."

I shook my head, let go of Autumn and paced frantically around the room. "You can't do that. I won't let you. The angle on the second gunshot is all wrong. They'll find out. It’s not worth it."

Alan struggled to his feet though his words were clear once again. "Joseph shot him once, then they struggled, they fell together and the second shot happened between them. That will explain if the angle is strange. Falling, in a struggle. Like I said, though, that kind of man is not someone lawyers are going to line up for."

"This can't be happening," I turned around again. "It's all over. I'm so sorry, Autumn. It’s all over."

"That's just the shock talking. I shot him, son," my father said.

"I saw Joseph shoot the intruder," Alan agreed.

I stopped in my tracks.

Autumn squared her shoulders. "I saw Joseph shoot him."

I did not have time to argue. Police swarmed through the splintered front door with guns drawn. We all held our hands up, and I saw that Joseph still held the gun. The police yelled for him to drop the weapon, and he began to confess even as they recited his rights and locked the handcuffs on him.

My father was pulled from the house and tucked into a squad car while the rest of us stood there frozen in shock.

Chapter Twenty

Autumn

Just walking in the front doors of Knight Holdings made me feel better. It had been a rough few days. The trauma of the home invasion, as the police were calling it, had hung over me like a heavy fog. It was worse for Ayden. He was beside himself with his father in jail. Bryon Shelton had jumped into action that very night and assured everyone the case was solid, but Ayden was frantic. He felt like at any moment his life could be ripped away from him.

Our attorney arranged for Ayden to visit his father, and they were allowed to speak privately. After that, Ayden calmed down. It seemed his father had finally convinced him that debts were repaid and life needed to go on.

That was just yesterday because when Ayden bounced back, it was with a vengeance. He dove into work with new vigor, and the office came alive again, electrified by their brave and heroic leader. Even on the street in front of our office building, I had heard whispers of Ayden taking on the gangsters trying to cripple Las Vegas.

The thought of it made me smile. I could even appreciate the small but tacky memorial that had been erected for David Rooke. It was a generous touch considering everything he had put the employees and the company through. I stopped to appreciate how much he would have hated the picture they chose, despised the delicate floral arrangement, and grieved the fact that not a single personal note sat on the table.

"You're here! Oh my god, I am so glad to see you! Are you sure you're ready to work? I can route all your calls to your phone and email everything else. Go work on your sofa with your feet up," Darla shrieked as she hugged me tightly.

"Nice to see you too."

"Nah, you're not getting away that easily," Darla dragged me back into another hug. "We could have lost you. We could have lost both of you, and then all of this would have collapsed."

I hugged my friend in return and blinked back tears. "Thanks to Ayden's father none of us are going to collapse."

"I know. Alan told me everything. How terrible. I can't believe they are holding him in jail." Darla took my briefcase and walked me to my office. She shut the door behind her and settled us both in the chairs in front of my desk.

"Let's talk about something else. How about you and Alan?" I asked with a smirk.

Darla blushed and giggled. "He's doing great. It was a concussion despite the fact the big lug kept saying he was fine. I managed to keep him in bed for at least 24 hours like the doctor recommended."

"Lucky dog," I remarked and laughed as Darla swatted at me.

"Speaking of lucky, you have to show me your - ahhh!" she shrieked again and curious eyes appeared through the fish bowl walls. "Oh my god, it is gorgeous! Is that a Tiffany ring?"

"It is. It's called Two Bees," I said with a proud flush. "Ayden has actually started calling me Honey Bee. He says that I'm sweet, but even he's a little scared of my sting."

"Did you really charge the intruder with a fireplace poker?" Darla asked. "I can see it. I think I would unleash holy hell if anyone tried to hurt my Alan."

I threw back my head and laughed out loud at the image of tiny, peppy Darla bringing down whatever monster managed to scratch her darling giant. She grinned and took hold of my hand with both of hers so she could study the ring more intently.

While we were caught up in the glamor of my engagement ring, the door to my office popped open. An eager reporter sprang inside and volleyed questions at me before I could turn around.

"Ms. Bishop is it true that Ayden King has a criminal past and was only recently released from Federal Prison?" he asked in a hurry.

Darla jumped up and grabbed the phone on my desk. "Where are you? The front parking lot? Yes! There's a reporter here. Get up here as quick as you can."

"Alan's on his way?" I asked, ignoring the reporter.

"Reports are surfacing that he has been dealing with the Mertz brothers. Are you aware that they are considered by many to be a resurgence of mob mentality in Las Vegas? How does Mr. King justify making dealings with such criminal businessmen?"

"These are all questions you can simply research yourself. Every answer you are looking for is public knowledge," I said.

The young reporter frowned and tried again. "Well, is it true that Ayden King has a history of violence and a visitor was recently killed inside his home?"

I stood up and was about to deal with the reporter myself when Alan's shadow swept over him. The young man cringed as our personal security guard hefted him up with one arm and dragged him to the front doors. Alan opened the door and tossed the reporter out with such force the poor man lost his footing and toppled to the ground.

Alan turned around and wiped his hands before catching an adoring Darla in his tree trunk arms. The big man's face melted as she peppered it with kisses.

"You alright, Ms. Bishop?" he asked in between smooches.

"Yes, Alan. Glad to see you are as well," I said with a wide smile.

Behind him the elevator doors opened and Ayden stepped out. I gasped as the reporter looked up, but the young man was so frazzled, he did not recognize our notorious leader. All the reporter noted was that a friendly hand leaned down to help him up.

"You alright, kid?" Ayden pulled him easily to his feet. "Here, let me grab the elevator for you. Is this yours?"

The reporter thankfully took the digital recorder that Ayden had retrieved. "Thank you, sir."

Darla stepped into the doorway and called out, "Good morning, Mr. King."

"Good morning, Darla. Did I miss anything?" Ayden asked.

Behind him the young reporter gaped. Alan shut the doors firmly in his face and stood guard.

Ayden wondered at our laughter but shrugged his shoulders. "I expect a full report on everything that happened in my, um, absence. For now, though, I have to apologize, but Ms. Bishop and I have an important meeting."

"No problem, Mr. King," Darla called as she winked at me.

I let Ayden take my arm and wrap it through his own. He marched me down the hallway to his office as I wondered, "What important meeting? Am I really that far off schedule?"

"I didn't put it on the schedule, but it is very important," Ayden said. He opened his office door for me and then closed it behind him.

I turned right into his warm and demanding kiss. "People can see us," I hissed against his lips.

"Sorry. I don't care. I'm not losing one single opportunity to kiss you," Ayden said. Then he swore as the phone interrupted us. "How do you pick up the second line again?"

Ayden poked at the phone and admitted he was not up to speed on the office technology yet. I watched him fumble a moment more before I reached over and punched the button for him. "Don't worry, you'll learn in time."

"Thank god I've got time," Ayden said with a grateful smile.

He turned from me and held up a finger as the caller jumped right into business. I only heard Ayden's half of the conversation, but I gleaned that it was Bryon Shelton. It was good news though Ayden downplayed it. He then asked me to put the phone on speaker so we could all talk.

"Hello, Bryon," I called out.

"Hello, Autumn, and don't worry, this time it is good news," our attorney said. "I've just been informed that Adair and Sal Mertz have been arrested. The evidence that Jace provided was very compelling, and it turns out there are many companies complaining of being strong-armed and threatened into bad deals."