Home > Hero (Hero #1)(75)

Hero (Hero #1)(75)
Author: Samantha Young

Aghast, I couldn’t even speak.

“Sir.” Sergeant Garry stepped toward Grandpa. “Are you saying that the motive behind Matthew Holland’s attack on your granddaughter is an inheritance dispute?”

“An inheritance dispute.” I laughed bitterly. “He hired a hit man to kill me because of money.” I glanced over at my father. “Money. It’s so fucking toxic.”

“Vernon Holts isn’t a hit man,” Tailor informed us. I stared at him in confusion. “He claims he met Holland in a bar one night and he bragged to Holland about his assault offenses and his skill with knives. Holland offered Holts a hundred grand to take you out.”

“But Holland didn’t do any research on this guy.” Garry shook his head in disgust. “Holts’s record show he’s had three restraining orders against him in the past six years from women he harassed. Talking to him …” His eyes were grave on me. “He admits Holland asked him to stop after the first attack failed. Holts refused. It appears the money became secondary to catching his prey.”

“He became fixated on Alexa,” Caine’s voice growled from above me.

“We believe so.” Tailor nodded. “Holts has been very forthcoming. He admits to following Alexa from the hospital to Mr. Carraway’s apartment and staking out the property ever since. With his statement and your grandfather’s, the Boston PD should be able to get a warrant to arrest Matthew Holland while they investigate.”

“Whether they find enough evidence against him to substantiate Holts’s claims is another thing,” Caine added impatiently.

I froze at the thought, realizing what he meant. “Matthew gets away with this if they can’t find physical evidence to connect him to it?”

“It’s possible,” Garry said, his voice filled with regret. “However, Holts has admitted guilt. We’re transferring him to Boston, and the officers on the case there will be taking over.”

I nodded, dazed. “Thank you for your help.”

When they were gone, Caine rounded the bed to grip my arms. “Alexa, this is all going to be all right.”

I scoffed. “How? It’s like watching a shitty movie and I’m stuck to the chair and the remote is all the way across the room.” I leaned into him slightly. “My half brother hired a crazy ex-con to kill me. Do you know how insane that is?”

“Yes, I do.” His eyes blazed with anger. “I know the lengths people are willing to go to for money. I’ve been a victim to it, and a victim for it. You’re in a room with two other people who have as well.”

“This is why I didn’t want it,” I said, my voice hoarse.

“Alexa, I’m sorry,” Grandpa said.

I looked over Caine’s shoulder to him. “I know you never meant anything … I know you were just trying to make up for … but take me out of your will immediately. Promise me.”

Tears bright in his eyes, he nodded his agreement. “I’m so sorry I did this.”

“No.” I shook my head. “Don’t take that on.”

“She’s right,” Caine said. “You had her best interests at heart. Matthew and Holts are the ones to blame here.”

I could tell Grandpa wasn’t quite convinced, the guilt still visible in his eyes, but he nodded gratefully at Caine.

“The sins of the father,” Dad suddenly said, his voice quiet, haunted.

We all looked at him.

He seemed wrecked. “Some of us are destined to repeat our parents’ mistakes.”

“Alistair,” Grandpa said sharply. “You made your mistakes, big fucking mistakes, but you did not deliberately attempt to do something so—”

“A woman died anyway.”

The muscles in Caine’s jaw twitched as he stared at my father like he was staring into hell.

“Caine,” I whispered uncertainly, my heart breaking for him.

“I won’t apologize.” My father met Caine’s hard gaze. “Because I know that’s not what you want from me. What you want I can never give. I … I wish that I could.”

The answering silence was so sharp and painful I almost couldn’t breathe in it.

Then … Caine gave my father this almost imperceptible little nod.

My father, on the verge of tears, looked toward me. “I’m going to leave you two alone, but I imagine we’ll see each other soon. I am so sorry this happened to you, Alexa.”

Somehow I managed to speak around the strangled feeling in my throat. “Thanks for being there today.”

He gave me a sad smile. “Your mother would have killed me if I let anything happen to you.”

“Yeah?”

He seemed surprised by the uncertainty in my question. “Yes. You know she missed you every day.”

Tears rolled down my cheeks before I could stop them and I buried my chin in my shoulder in an attempt to hide my reaction. Caine, however, was having none of that. His strong arms wrapped around me, pulling me so close I had no option but to wrap my arms around him. Burying my face in his chest, I let the sobs rise from my belly, and I cried for everything. For Caine, for our parents, for Matthew and Vernon’s attack, and for the realization that sometimes love really could be too broken to fix, and that you couldn’t get a happily ever after with everyone.

But as Caine kissed my hair and whispered soothing, loving words in my ears, I was assuaged by the knowledge that I didn’t need a happily ever after with everyone … just with someone.

“I love you,” I choked out against his warm chest.

In answer, Caine gently pulled me away, just far enough so he could look into my face. I was tearstained, swollen-faced, and exhausted. I was a mess. But he stared at me as if I were the only person in the room, and as if I was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. His voice was gruff as he confessed, “I love you too.”

My arms tightened in reflex around him, and a renewed determination pulsed into my veins. “Let’s go home so we can rest. We’ve got a couple of bastards to deal with who need a lesson in manners.”

Amusement curled the corners of Caine’s mouth. “There she is,” he murmured in satisfaction.

 

 

CHAPTER 32


It felt like hours before we were allowed to go home. Once we set foot in Boston we were hustled to the police station, where we had to answer all the same questions all over again. By the time a cab dropped us off at Caine’s apartment, I was deadweight.

Caine practically carried me upstairs to his bed. When I flopped down on it he wearily but patiently set about taking off my boots and jeans. I managed to shrug out of my jacket and throw it on the floor while Caine jerked the covers down so I could slide my legs under. The last thing I remembered was Caine getting in beside me and gently pulling me into his arms.

The next morning the sunlight peeked in through the blinds and woke me up. I was sprawled across Caine, unconsciously uncaring of my injury, my head resting on his bare stomach.

My arm was draped across his upper chest and shoulder, and his fingers were drawing little soothing circles on my right biceps.

“You’re awake,” I said, the words coming out croaky.

His other hand slid down my back to my hip. “Yeah.”

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