Conviction (A Stand-alone Novel): A Bad Boy Romance (9 page)

Then the phone rang. It was a brutal exit from the sensational dream and, for a moment, I could not allow my eyes to open. I wanted to catch the dream back and feel his kiss even if it was only in my imagination.

"That's not good," I mumbled. A burgeoning attraction to my boss's best friend and my new co-worker was inappropriate at best, but a middle-of-the-night phone call was definitely worse.

I forced myself out of bed and found my phone. I was, of course, too late. The number was withheld and there was nothing I could do but stand in my darkened room and assume one hundred horrible possibilities.

"A wrong number." I convinced myself and then jumped a mile when my phone rang again.

"Hello?"

"Ms. Bishop? Is this the Ms. Bishop that works for Jace Knight?" a gruff matter-of-fact voice asked.

"Yes. May I ask who's calling?" I sat back down on the corner of my bed.

"This is the LVPD. You are Mr. Knight's emergency contact, is that correct?" the officer asked.

"Yes," I swallowed hard. "Is everything okay?"

"I'm sorry, but Mr. Knight has been in a car accident," the officer toned down his gruffness to deliver the painful news.

I stood back up and wandered in small circles around my bedroom. Jace had been in an accident. When everything was finally smoothing out. For once Jace had taken real steps towards settling down. He had even found a woman he was actually interested in. A woman whose very name made his eyes light up.

I blinked over and over. It seemed darker than it should have been. I could not focus on anything. Then I forced my eyes to check the clock. It was almost 4:30am.

"Are you there, Miss?"

"Yes. Yes, I am. Can you tell me when the accident happened?" My voice caught on the word 'accident' and I had to slow down my panicked breathing.

"I’m afraid there may have been alcohol or drugs involved. He was taken to the hospital forty minutes ago--"

"Wait, what?" I screeched. "That can’t be right. He doesn’t drink or do drugs. And even if his meeting ran on he would have texted to let me know. If his new business partners took him straight to the club, he would have texted me. That is way too late."

"Miss!" the officer barked, and then softened his tone again. "The accident was very serious. Mr. Knight's car went down an embankment. Emergency crews were able to reach him within fifteen minutes, but he was unresponsive. He was taken to the hospital."

Silence seeped in. I knew I should ask a question, or prompt the officer to continue, but my voice was caught under the leaden rock in my stomach.

"I'm sorry to tell you that Mr. Knight was pronounced dead on arrival." The officer bit the words off fast and fell silent again.

"You're telling me Jace Knight is dead?" a sour bubble of laughter escaped. "This is a prank, right? Is he there with you? Tell him I was sad for a few seconds, but I'm not stupid."

The officer sighed. "Ms. Bishop, please. This is the LVPD, and I regret to inform you that Jace Knight died from injuries sustained in a serious car accident. Any other questions you may have can be directed to the hospital."

I wrote down the information with a shaking hand and hoped I could read it when I turned on the light. Then I hung up the phone and sat in the dark. It hurt to breath. The weight on my chest was so heavy. It was not until the pale rays of sunrise drifted through the gap in my curtains that I tried to decipher what I had scribbled.

Jace dead. Car accident. Rolled off sharp curve, down embankment. Alcohol and drugs suspected, high-speed cause of death. Call Ayden.

The last two words squeezed my heart so hard that tears poured from my eyes. How was I going to tell Ayden his best friend was dead? The man had survived fifteen years in prison and had just begun to open up again. Jace had spent the entire afternoon before his meeting teasing Ayden in the hopes of seeing a genuine smile.

Jace had sent me a photograph just to prove it. Ayden's dazzling smile had kick started my heated dream.

I sobbed until the line rang, and then I forced my breath into a slow but jagged rhythm. "Ayden? It’s Autumn. I'm sorry to call so late."

"What's wrong? What happened? I can hear it in your voice. There's been an accident?" Ayden's rapid-fire words shattered my attempt at calm.

"Jace died. He was in a car accident, and they rushed him to the hospital, but he didn't make it," I sobbed.

Ayden ground his teeth together. "When? Where? Did the police say there was a cause? Was anyone else involved?"

"Around 3:50am. The sharp curves near the canyon road. He lost control and rolled down an embankment. There were no other cars, no passenger. Just Jace. Oh, Ayden, I am so sorry." The tears thickened my voice.

"They think it was an accident?" Ayden growled.

"Yes. They said there was alcohol or drugs or both involved. He was going too fast and lost control on the sharp turn."

"Bullshit," Ayden snapped.

His words knocked the sobs out of my chest. "It's true, Ayden, he's gone. I'll call the hospital and get the full report, but Jace is gone."

"Not from drugs or alcohol," Ayden said. "When was the last time you saw him with an alcoholic drink? And have you ever known him to do drugs?"

I could feel Ayden's anger pulsing through the phone. "No?"

"Come on, Autumn, tell me the truth!"

His harsh tone shook me. "I've never seen Jace do drugs. The last time I saw him have an alcoholic beverage was that can of beer with you on your second night in town."

"He took one sip and threw it in the pool. I know you remember because you fished it out and left a note for the pool cleaner," Ayden snarled. "So are you really telling me you believe this whole drugs and alcohol bullshit?"

"What are you saying?" I cried. "Are you saying the police lied to me? I mean, I get how you might not trust them, but this just sounds like denial."

Ayden let fly a stream of profanities so blistering that I held the phone away from my ear. "What if it wasn't an accident?"

I took a deep, jagged breath. "Just because neither of us saw Jace drinking or doing drugs doesn't mean he didn't. He was a grown man, one you haven't seen for years. And I was his assistant, not high on the list for hearing confession."

"You're right, you're right," Ayden snapped. "It had been too long. And now he's gone."

The silence was worse than the swearing.

"I'm on my way." I hung up the phone and lunged towards my closet.

Within a half an hour, I had pulled myself together enough for a white-knuckled drive to Jace's house. I had to drive past the fatal corner, and there were still police squad cars parked on the shoulder. A tow truck was dragging Jace's mangled car up the embankment.

The image was still flashing in my mind when Ayden yanked the front door open. "Thank god you're here. How do we lock the front gate?"

"I can do it. Wait, why? What is going on?" I asked.

Ayden pulled me down the hallway and into the kitchen. The flat screen that dominated the wall above the eating nook was on full volume with a reporter speculating about Jace's death. "It’s all over the morning news. Every station. We're about to get attacked. I can feel it coming."

“I don’t understand,” I wrung my hands as I watched the news headlines, “Jace never drank or did drugs but the officers reported evidence of both. The coroner told me there was a mix-up with the toxicology reports. We can’t prove Jace was clean.”

“You think someone wanted to bury the truth?” Ayden scowled at the television. “I don’t think truth is going to matter much to anyone but us right about now.”

The doorbell rang and Ayden was right. A swarm of reporters demanded a statement, and two even tried to push open the front door when all I would say was 'no comment.' I pushed the door closed and bolted it.

Jace's security team shouldered their way through the reporters and pushed them back past the front gate. Ayden watched through the side window with a dark scowl.

"Vultures," he spat.

"Just stay away from them," I said. "I'll handle the press. It's going to get ugly, but there is no reason you need to be involved."

There was a sharp knock on the door and Ayden dodged for it before I could stop him.

"Let me guess, you were hiding in the fucking bushes?" Ayden roared. "Well, here's a statement for you - if you don't show some goddamn respect, I will hammer it into your skull."

The young man yelped and jumped back, but not before Ayden caught his collar. Ayden dragged the cub reporter up onto his tiptoes and snarled in his face.

"Security!" I screamed out the open front door. Then I tried to pry Ayden's hands off the young man's collar. It was like forcing a bulldog to release its jaw. "You're done. Get out of here and pull yourself together somewhere private."

Ayden dropped the kid who scrambled into the waiting arms of the security detail. Satisfied, Ayden turned on his heel, disappeared into Jace's home office, and slammed the door. It was a full twenty-four hours until he reappeared.

I leaned against the kitchen island and held a coffee cup with both hands. My head was swimming from two sleepless nights and every nerve was raw. Just his heavy footsteps were enough to make me flinch.

"Autumn, I'm sorry. I was way out of line," Ayden said.

"Are you okay?"

He scrubbed two hands over his face and then knotted his fingers in his black hair. Just as he opened his mouth to answer, his cell phone rang. "I don't know why I'm still carrying this damn thing," he groaned.

I concentrated on getting the life-saving caffeine from the mug to my lips without my shaking hands upsetting everything. Ayden stayed in the kitchen, his feet rooted to the spot. His hair was a mess, and his face was a dark shadow of stubble.

"How did you get this number?"

The hairs on my neck stood up at Ayden's steel-barbed tone. It was impossible to move much less ignore the tense phone call.

"Liar. You never visited me in prison so you never ran into Jace there."

I stood up, but Ayden shook his head and motioned for me to sit down again. He held the phone away from his ear and spat, "No need. It's just my father. It'll be quick."

I inched towards the kitchen door but stopped. Ayden did not want me to leave. I had heard about his father through Jace. It sounded like he was a terrible man that dismissed his only child as a complete loss. It was no wonder he did not want to speak to him, much less have a private conversation with the man.

"I don't believe a single word," Ayden snarled into the phone. "And I don't give a shit about your justifications or, as you're trying to call them, good intentions. Stay the fuck away from the funeral and never call this number again."

* * * * *

Ayden stood in the archway of the dining room with a large spray of white lilies. Any other time and place the combination of his rugged handsomeness with the delicate flowers would light me up like a firecracker. As it was Jace's funeral, all I could muster was a weak fizzle.

Next to the smooth and flawless white flowers, Ayden was a wreck. His suit was rumpled, his face still shadowed by scratchy beard growth, and dark circles marred his bright blue eyes. He dropped the newest offering on an already crowded dining room table and crossed his arms over his chest.

"We should have put another leaf in the table," I joked, but it fell flat.

The house was full of flowers and that only threw Ayden's grief into sharp contrast. He was dressed in a black-on-black suit, and every expression was overshadowed by his grief.

"What do we do with all of them after this is done?" Ayden asked.

"We pay the funeral planner too much money," David sniped. He mentally tabulated the cost of all our choices. "For gods sake, how many people did you invite?"

"Jace's closets friends and the people he thought highly of," Ayden cocked an eyebrow as if questioning why David was present.

"There's the funeral planner now, if you want to meet her." I pointed David towards the tall, solemn woman who had come highly recommended.

It was enough to distract David while the mourners filed towards the waiting cars for the funeral procession. I lead Ayden towards the lead car though my arm was tucked into his elbow.

He pulled us on a detour and found Patrice leaning against the garage door. She looked as if she might slip to the ground until Ayden reached out and took her hand.

"He would have wanted you with us," Ayden said.

Jace's last love nodded but could not muster the strength to say anything else. All three of us sat in silence as the cars filled up and the gates were opened. I was relieved when David was swept up by a few investment bankers we worked with. I could easily imagine Ayden smashing his face in before we reached the cemetery. The silence was much better.

Unfortunately, the quiet made my thoughts all the louder. Ayden was edgy and upset. His name had already been mentioned in the headlines, and I was worried how he might act at the very public burial service.

We arrived at the cemetery and a flock of Patrice's friends helped her out of the limousine. Ayden slid out behind her, but I could not move. Hundreds of people were picking their way among the gravestones to give Jace Knight their last respects. It was an outpouring of love that only made me miss him even more. Everyone loved Jace and seeing it so apparent only left me more bereft.

My car door opened and Ayden extended his hand. "Ms. Bishop? Jace always said you were a stickler for punctuality."

I choked back the tears and took his hand.

"You did an amazing job for him, Autumn."

Ayden's blue eyes were too near and too empathetic. It hurt to look at him. I closed my eyes and let him lead me across the drive to the uneven ground of the cemetery.

"Thank you," I finally managed. "I couldn't have done this without you."

"Liar. Not only did you do this on your own, but you kept me together."

I looked up at him. His jaw flexed against his pain. "How about today? How are we going to keep it together today?"