Mr. Grayson: Billionaires’ Club Book 4 (Billionaires’ Club Series)

The plane was descending when I ended my call with Jen, my youngest sister. I would lose my mind if I didn’t make it to the upcoming shit-show as soon as possible, and the fact that I had Bree in tow weighed as heavily on my mind as the rest of this fuckery.

For the last nine months, after being with Bree had opened what I now referred to as my own personal Pandora’s box of emotions, I’d been struggling to sleep through the night without having night terrors. They were constant and I’d made more excuses than ever not to stay the night with Bree, leaving me to sleep in my bed alone. I missed the fucking hell out of her, but it was my only fix. It was the only thing I knew to do to deal with all of these horrors of my former life as they surfaced.

Being a man who fixed everything, I knew I could handle this shit on my own, and once these terrors ended, I could resume the relationship that I longed for with Bree. I wanted her to fall asleep in my arms every night. I longed to have her wake up in my arms every morning. Instead, I had a black, purring cat who seemed to judge me with his green eyes every morning. Zeus most likely hated me for pulling Bree in and out of his world, but like all felines, he got over it and moved on. Even my goddamn cat was a reminder that what I had with Bree was the best thing to ever happen to me. She was the only woman the picky guy seemed to adore.

I hadn’t realized until receiving news of my mom’s passing that I was stuck in such a clusterfuck of emotions. Emotions I never felt before Breanne, like accepting that I was capable of giving and receiving love. Who was the cursed one now? But didn’t I deserve this curse? I know that my father would surely remind me I did.

I told myself that I didn’t give a fuck about what my old man said or who he said it to while I was here paying my final respects to my mom, but here I was, unable to sleep—afraid to sleep—worried that Bree was about to discover the truth of who I really was.

She would see the man behind the illusion I put on for the world. Although, it never felt like an illusion until these damn emotions took control of me. My grandfather busted his ass to give me the second chance I deserved. Even though my mom had sent me away, and Jane hated her for that, my mother never treated me like the evil human my father did.

“So long as everyone is fucking aware, the past is in the past, Jen,” I whispered from where I hid in my usual office on Mitchell and Associates’ luxury jet.

“Alex, we all swore not to say one word about you or any of it. This is why I don’t understand why you showed up after her stroke and why you’re coming here now.”

“I have my reasons. Regardless of what everyone believes, I’m not the monster that bastard led you to believe,” I said.

“Is that what grandfather put in your mind? Maybe that’s what you had to believe to get the inheritance that wasn’t yours to begin with,” Jen said with a tone that made my blood boil.

“You sound just like him, you know?”

“Mother begged me not to hate you and not to judge you, but I’m sorry. I know the truth.”

“You know the truth? You were a baby when all of it happened, so you don’t know a goddamn thing,” I seethed. “Just keep your fucking mouth shut around Breanne, and I will be gone as soon as that casket lowers into the ground.”

“You’re a selfish man, Alex. Sometimes I wonder how you’re even my brother. I’ve got to go.”

I felt a lump in my throat when Jen hung up the phone. My youngest sister was raised to see only the darkness in me, and it never bothered me until now. Fuck these goddamn emotions. It was so much easier to live my life with my feelings buried, and I gave all that shit up when I allowed myself to feel more with Bree. When I experienced how wonderful it was to feel again, I embraced that solace with everything I was. Now, I was fighting not to resent the beautiful woman.

“Is Jane going to be here?” Bree asked as the plane smoothly landed.

“No,” I answered, my head killing me as if I’d had ten bottles of bourbon the previous night. “She didn’t care for my mother and thinks I’m not only a complete idiot for showing up here, but for bringing you along too.”

“It’s nothing I can’t handle, Alex. You met both my aunts, correct?”

When I looked into her soft jade eyes, I couldn’t hold anything against her like I wanted to. Not spending the night with her because of my fucking night terrors was so stupid, and why? I hadn’t had one terrifying dream since being back with her and in Florida. I was prepped for them to happen because if I wanted this woman to spend her life with me, I had to embrace it all—even the questions my night terrors would conjure. Maybe the hell hounds that’d been chasing my ass for the last nine months had lost my scent and were gone altogether. I could only hope.

I rose, unable to resist her touch. “I saw the way you appeared in that room with your aunts, and they had an effect, dimples.” I smiled while I accepted her tight embrace.

She lifted her chin to meet my eyes. “You never came to bed. I thought that’s what red-eye flights were good for.”

“Couldn’t sleep.” I ran my hand through her soft hair. “You look beautiful, as always.” I kissed her nose. “I just want to get this over with.”

“We’re in Flagstaff, correct?”

“Flagstaff in January,” I smirked. “You’re going to feel the wintry sting until I can supplement our wardrobe with some warmer, non-Floridian clothing.”

“Where are we staying?”

“You’d feel more welcome on this plane, comfortable too,” I smirked. “I reserved a nice bed and breakfast and worked it out so that we’ll be their only guests. It’s in town, and it should be nice enough.”

I kissed her lips when I was met with her no-bullshit expression.

“Then let’s go get some sweaters and handle all of this.” She pulled on my arm as I turned to exit the plane. “Alex,” she spoke with authority. “I love you.”

I forced a smile. “Please don’t allow that to be your famous last words to me after this trip.”

“You should relax. I’m here for you. Besides,” she arched her eyebrow at me, “haven’t we passed the days of me judging you?”

“I sure as hell hope so.”

It’d been two days, and today was the day that my mom would be laid to rest. After I’d manipulated ways of being at the funeral home to make arrangements without having to see anyone I may have known, my mom was officially going to be buried as if she were the town mayor.

Word came to me that my father knew I was here to make sure my money was spent solely on Mom—which was not an inaccurate assessment. He despised the fact there was nothing he could do to pull my mother’s body from the astounding mahogany casket that was flown in just for her.

Everything was beautiful and as my mother had requested, and this was probably the most ostentatious show of wealth this town had ever seen. I did what I felt was right by her, though. The horse-drawn hearse that Jen had insisted my mother wanted seemed a bit excessive, but I wasn’t surprised. Mother used to speak of horses when we were children, and I saw the show-jumping awards she’d earned in my grandfather’s library. Either way, it was time to view her for the first time since I’d been here and the last time ever.

This beautiful city, filled with stunning pine trees and blanketed with fresh snow, didn’t have the usual brisk chill that a winter morning brings. Instead, it felt heavy and dank and colder than a dungeon.

The hair on the back of my neck bristled with nerves as I stepped out of the home Bree and I had been using as a hideout. I wore my long black overcoat, a dark three-piece suit, and leather gloves I had flown in along with some of Bree’s more comfortable clothes. The cool air blowing on the back of my neck offered me more of an uneasy feeling, prompting me to instinctively pull the white scarf I had draped around the nape of my long coat and bring it up to cover my exposed skin.

I probably should’ve waited for Bree so we could arrive together, but I wanted to see my mother alone. Bree accepted my reasons for going ahead, but I could tell she wasn’t thrilled by it even though she didn’t say as much. She told me she’d meet me there once she was dressed and ready, and I didn’t stick around for her to change her mind and insist on joining me early. Was it a dick move on my part? Probably. Was I pushing her away from me subconsciously because I was terrified of her being here in the first place? Definitely.

“Alexander O’Conner?” I heard a young woman say, prompting me to halt my easy walk into town from the bed and breakfast.

I turned back, praying to God this wasn’t going to be an awkward conversation. The woman was dressed nicely and was familiar, but I could hardly remember my life in this town.

“I’m sorry, but you have me at a disadvantage,” I said, forcing the fake smile I’d been using even with Breanne since the call about my mom came in.

“It’s Emma…” she paused and gave me a kind yet flirty smile. “Emma Porter? We dated freshman year. We won homecoming prince and princess together.”

My smile turned into that of humor. This was the chick I’d worked my ass off to get into bed, but she always insisted we wait until marriage to have sex. She’d hardly aged a day and still had bouncing blonde, natural curls, beaming blue eyes, and a stunning smile. “Wow. That was a long time ago,” I said. “You look fantastic.”

“And you certainly look nothing like that jock I remember dating,” she teased. “Look at you.” She reached for my tie and tugged on it. “You’re all grown up. Let me guess; you’re a stockbroker or some wealthy, dapper man now?”

I half smiled, not particularly comfortable with any woman aside from Breanne, friendly or not, touching me. “Investor, owner,” I said.

“I’m sorry to hear about your mom.” She squinted as the bright sun beamed off the brilliant white snow.

I readjusted my sunglasses. “Thank you. Even though I’m sure gossip to the contrary circulated around school in one way or the other, I did love her. I’m only here to say my final farewells.”

“No one knew why you left town,” she chuckled, obviously a lighter conversation for her than me. I was guarded, walls up all around me in some bizarre self-preservation mode that was leading me to be cold, stiff, and unapproachable. Obviously not to Emma, though. “We missed you when you left. Can I ask why? It’s always been a mystery, and your mom…” she smiled, and her eyes went to what I assumed was a memory of my mother. “Being her hairdresser, I can say that she seemed happy all of the time, even after the stroke. The only time she ever seemed upset was when I’d ask about you.”

“I was a troubled kid,” I admitted that truth, even if her tactlessness didn’t warrant a response. “If it weren’t for my grandfather, I suppose I would be serving a life sentence in jail or something of that nature.”

“I doubt that,” she chuckled. “Well, it looks like it’s my loss. I should’ve chased you down, ignored you cheating on me with the captain of my cheer team, and kept you. You age like a fine wine; you know that?”

Very original, I thought, ready to get the fuck to the funeral home and end this reunion that meant nothing to me.

“I’m sure your husband wouldn’t have approved,” I offered in a colder tone, seeing her wedding ring.

“I married Thomas Foster. Do you remember him?”

“Not really. Listen, as fun as these types of reunions seem to be, I am trying to get to the funeral home before the visitation begins. It was a pleasure to see you again.”

“Perhaps we’ll catch up another time? After the funeral, maybe?”

“Sounds great,” I said curtly. “Another time, then.”

I briskly strode off and hopped up the cleared steps of the funeral chapel. After announcing myself, the funeral director led me into the largest hall, where the overwhelming scent of floral arrangements blasted me harder than the image of my mother inside that casket. I eyed everything in the room, seeing it was all perfect and set for a queen. Paul would undoubtedly hate me for this extravagance—why waste all this perfectly good booze-buying, card game money on a dead lady, right?

I was a grown-ass man now, and Paul would have to deal with someone who didn’t tolerate bullshit from even the greatest of assholes. I’d met worse men in business. I knew I could handle a drunk who hated me with everything he was.

I quietly walked up to where my mother lay peacefully at rest, her hands gently folded, and I couldn’t resist but to cover them with mine. “You look like the angel you always were,” I whispered, seeing where her former stroke was still recognizable on the side of her face. “I forgive you.” I focused on her closed eyes. Why was I suddenly speaking like this and to someone who wasn’t here to hear it? “I forgive you for everything. Rest in peace now…” I felt tears swell in my eyes, and I had to choke this shit down.

I had no idea where any of this was coming from and why those words came out of my mouth. Why would I forgive someone I don’t recall blaming? I felt bad that the woman couldn’t stand up to her nightmare of a husband that she feared, and I was saddened that I fucked it up enough that it made her ask her father to finish raising me, but never this. I never felt like she’d wronged me in a way that I’d stand quietly at her casket and tell her I forgave her.

I heard a rustling at the doorway, letting me know I’d stood here for too long, and when I turned back, I saw the evil bastard. The fucker looked broken, older than he should have, and every ounce as revolting as I remembered him. His red hair was now all white, his face was ruddy and swollen, and the rest of him looked leathery and worn. Thank God I got my mother’s genes from the Sicilian side of the family because that’s what allowed me to inwardly smile at the fact that I looked nothing like this wicked mother fucker.

“I see you’ve put on quite the show for her,” he spoke as I locked eyes with him. He stood shorter and stockier than I did, so making eye contact had to be a brutally charged moment for him—the day when he had to look up and meet my eyes. “Not surprised,” he said, then eyed the group filing in behind him. “You can go now. I guess I’ll be forced to see you again.”

“Until she’s in the ground,” I said firmly, then brushed past him, eyeing my sister Jen and her greasy-haired husband on my way out of the chapel hall.

Fuck if I didn’t hate that man more with every stride that I took out of that room. Son of a bitch. I suddenly felt like that little boy who didn’t understand why his father despised him. I felt weak with emotion, and I hated it.

I had to go to the grave. I had to see it for myself and try to finally make sense of it all. The grave was the reason the old man hated me with every bone in his body.

I marched through the brisk streets, seeing the entrance to the cemetery and the plot that was dug up across the tree-covered, snow-filled lawns—Mom’s final resting place. I kept walking, and I chewed on my bottom lip when I stopped and stood in front of the headstone that read my twin brother’s name.

“Albert,” I softly said, not remembering him well. We were only six years old when it happened.

I couldn’t say another word. I couldn’t do anything but stare at the grave of the six-year-old boy who’d died so tragically. This was the reason my old man hated me and became a raging alcoholic, the reason my mother finally kicked me out of the house, and the reason why I stood at her coffin and told her I forgave her. She hated me for this too—for Albert’s grave and the fact I could stand in front of it with a life ahead of me. This grave was the reason I was told I would never find love. It was the very reason I didn’t deserve to be happy.

Fuck. Why was I standing here?

“Alex?” Bree questioned from behind me.

I quickly turned and walked away from my twin brother’s grave, praying to God the woman didn’t ask who was in that plot.

“What are you doing here?” I asked her, treating her as if she were suddenly my enemy, just like everyone else in this town.

“I came looking for you. My God, you look awful,” she said carefully with grief-stricken eyes. “Are you okay?”

“I’m burying my mother in a fucking hell hole today. Why would you possibly fucking think I am anything close to resembling okay?”

She stepped back, and her face was as stern as mine was. “I know this isn’t easy, but I won’t stand here and listen to you talk like that to me.”

“Why did you follow me?” I insisted, feeling like those goddamn hell hounds were on my ass again. “Answer me, Breanne. You can’t leave me alone for two seconds, can you?”

“Hang on a second,” she confronted my diabolical-sounding voice with a menacing one of her own. “I wasn’t following you. I saw you cross the street and walk here from the funeral home. I was coming to check on you. Jesus Christ, what the hell has gotten into you?”

I moved out of the cemetery, feeling as though it was that place that was provoking my mental ass.

“Sorry,” I responded coldly. I was irritated that I had to worry about her on top of processing everything else. I knew it was irrational, but it was also the reason I didn’t want her to fucking come on this trip in the first place. It was hard to process shit that you couldn’t even bring yourself to share with someone else. I was forced into this situation, and I wasn’t handling it well. “I saw my old man, and things are just fucking with my mind. I didn’t expect that they would.”

“The last thing I want to do is cause you any more strife today than you’re already feeling, but you can’t talk to me that way. I’m not some weird-ass stalker. I’m only trying to help.”

“I get it. Sorry.” The last thing I wanted to do was fight with Bree, especially when there were so many other people I wanted to lash out at, but I was barely holding myself together at this point. It was unfair of me to expect her to know she was crossing some invisible boundaries within my fucked-up psyche.

“Let’s just get through this and go home. That’s what you want, right?” she said, looking at me with confusion.

“It is.”

“I noticed you didn’t sleep again last night. That and you’re treating me like I’m some alien who’s following you around. Don’t you dare shut down on me, Alex Grayson.”

“I don’t plan to. You’re the only one in my corner here.”

“Then if you want me to stay there, don’t act like some psychopath in the cemetery,” she half-grinned. “You look like death yourself. You probably should eat before all of this starts. Maybe take a nap unless you have somewhere else you need to be that consists of me stalking you in this freezing-ass weather. Please tell me you’re at least hungry.”

“I could eat,” I said.

“Then let’s make up for you going on twenty-four hours or more now without sleep by fueling you up with food.”

I licked my lips and glared over at the group of people standing outside of the funeral home. In just four short hours, we’d sit in that room together, and then I would excuse Bree and myself after mom went into the ground.

Something strange told me that I wasn’t leaving directly afterward, though. An odd feeling slammed into my chest, telling me I wasn’t getting out of this hell without everything finally coming full circle. The past was rushing back to haunt me. No matter how I tried to push it down, it was bubbling and about to boil over. The dark side of my life would finally end this slight reprieve of happiness I’d had since I gave myself to Breanne Stone. I knew that more than anything at this moment, and I should’ve tried harder to get her home instead of allowing her to come along.

This would end it all. It was only a matter of how.