“My father—just eat. We leave in ten.” He left me in the kitchen without explaining himself and closed the bedroom door.
I couldn’t eat anything. The look on his face had me envisioning the worst. I had no idea what it was like to lose a parent, but I got that sometimes you needed space from everyone to process. Though I wanted to keep at him, I stayed silent.
While he did whatever in the bedroom, I cleaned up the kitchen. I hadn’t unpacked—we’d been here less than a day. I had no idea whose place this was and what rules they had about what condition to leave it in. Besides, I needed to stay busy.
When the bedroom door opened, Striker was all business. Both our bags were in his hands.
“You can check to make sure I didn’t leave anything. I’ll take these down to the car,” he said, leaving me to wonder if he was avoiding me.
I couldn’t do much other than comply. He’d gotten everything. I took one look out the windows, wishing I had my phone. I would have loved a picture to remember the stunning view. Instead, I let the door close behind me and went downstairs.
The car was waiting, so I got in the back. Striker didn’t look at me. I reached over to where his hand rested on the seat, but before I could cover his with mine, he moved it to his lap. Without knowing what was going on, how could I possibly judge him? Instead, I faced the window. I cracked it, enjoying the feeling of the air on my face as my emotions raced around curves. I dug deep for the strength that had done me so much good over the years.
The drive was short, and soon we were at the bottom of the plane’s stairs, bypassing most of security since it was a private jet. Grant was there to greet us, along with a customs agent. After our passports were checked, Striker waved me up the stairs.
After he shut us in, Grant said, “I wasn’t expecting to take you guys home.”
“Yeah, it was unexpected,” I said, glancing at Striker. Grant’s smile fell some and I put on a brave smile. “I hope your stay was good.”
He brightened, and his grin was infectious. “It was. I slept a lot but had time to get to the pub for a pint.”
“You were dying to say pub and pint, weren’t you?”
“Am I that easy to read?” He laughed and took the bags. “I’ll put these away and get ready for the journey home. It looks like the winds are in our favor. We should make it to New York in a little over seven hours.”
I’d made up my mind to give Striker the space he needed, so I was headed toward the last row of seats when Striker caught my hand. I looked down into his pleading eyes and let him tug me into his lap. His arms wrapped around me so tightly, I burrowed my head in his chest.
“I’m sorry,” he said. I bobbed my head, and he placed a kiss on the top. “I didn’t know how to handle the news that my father’s heart had failed him again. He’s in surgery and they don’t know if he’ll make it.”
I placed a hand on his cheek, my heart breaking for him. “It’s okay.”
“It’s not. I shouldn’t have shut you out.”
I shook my head. “I can’t say I wouldn’t have done the same. I have no idea how I would have reacted, given the same news.”
“I feel helpless. And if he dies because I couldn’t be the son he wanted…”
“Don’t say that.”
“He wanted my help with the business, and I refused. He was at work. They found him unconscious in his office. If I’d been there…”
What he didn’t say was that he’d been with me instead. Even if he hadn’t thought of that, I felt guilty.
“Strap in,” Grant said, peeking his head out of the cockpit door with a grin.
When I tried to get up, Striker didn’t let go. He took one hand and worked the belt around the both of us. It barely fit. Grant said nothing, only turned. I guessed no rule was unbreakable on a private flight.
We didn’t speak, we just held each other. I had questions about who might have been after me, but it wasn’t more important than Striker getting back to his father.
Striker was intuitive though. “Kalen suggested I leave you in Ireland, but I’m a selfish bastard. I want you with me. You can stay at Dad’s. No one would suspect either of us of being there.”
“I want to be with you too,” I said. “Is Kalen coming?” Bailey and Kalen were supposed to be on their honeymoon.
“Funny enough, he is. They’re on the way back.”
It was unlikely my kidnapping had anything to do with the either of them since the man after Bailey had been found. No one would put me at Connor’s father’s house.