Chapter Twenty-Two
Autumn
Ayden's suitcase was open on the four-poster bed. I pulled aside the gauzy mosquito netting and saw that it was completely empty. First thing that morning, he had gone swimming at the resort's private beach. Then he had convinced me to take one more hike to the waterfall. A light breakfast was followed by a luxurious shower in our suite's grotto-style bathroom with a wide rain showerhead. Now, instead of packing, he was sitting outside with his feet up.
"I ordered one last round of Mai Tais," Ayden announced. "We can't leave without making the most of this view. I am so glad we chose Hawaii."
I stepped onto our private lanai and could not blame him for procrastinating. It was hard to think of leaving the vibrant islands even though we had only been there for seven days.
"I suppose we could call the pilot and let him know we're running late," I said.
Ayden shook his head, "No. I already told the front desk we were checking out. After the Mai Tais." He pulled me into his lap and nuzzled my neck.
A white-coated waiter delivered the drinks on a silver tray and nodded politely.
"You want to stay?" I asked Ayden.
I was torn between wanting to get home and get back to work and understanding why Ayden wanted to linger. Not only was it our honeymoon, it was Ayden's first time on a tropical island. After weeks of string-pulling and favor-asking, his parole officer had finally signed off on a trip outside the continental United States. It was just another reminder that Ayden had been locked up for fifteen years and had missed much of the world.
"I could but I actually miss Las Vegas." Ayden sipped his drink and checked his phone. "And I know it is insane, but I miss work and I can't wait to get back."
"I can't believe Darla hasn't called us three times a day with updates. She must be really busy. . .with Alan," I giggled.
"I just hope we didn't leave too big of a mess. Shelton told me all the legal stuff was going to take forever, and he'd inform us if anything big happened." Ayden peeled back his white linen shirt and checked on the rough scrape across his shoulder.
I smiled and remembered our surfing adventure. Ayden's height had been a problem because his center of gravity was too high for him to keep steady even on a long board. I, on the other hand, had loved every minute of it and harbored dreams of a new lifelong sport.
"Still sore?" I asked.
"Nah, it’s healing. It itches." Ayden smiled. "I can't believe you liked that better than golf. Don't you know we're going to have to golf to keep up our corporate relations? Not sure you can have too many meetings on a surf board."
"We should expand the nightclubs to Los Angeles," I suggested.
"I've never been. When are we going?"
I leaned against him and sipped my Mai Tai. We sat for countless minutes and enjoyed the soft surf on the edge of paradise. Finally, there was a polite knock on our suite door and the concierge came in with porters to help us pack. They took care of everything for Ayden, and we were in a limousine to the private airstrip within the hour.
Ayden stepped out of the limousine and frowned at our Learjet. Despite the luxuries the private plane contained, he still disliked the small space.
I kissed his cheek. "As soon as your parole is lifted, we'll go see the world. Then, I bet, you'll start to love that plane."
He nodded and I did not like the drawn look on his face. I knew he loved running Knight Holdings and Las Vegas was beginning to feel like home, but there was a lot of places he had never been. I was afraid my husband wanted to jet set his way around the world when all I wanted to do was go home and do my job.
"I ordered a case of Kona coffee. I thought that might help us transition back to board meetings and office work," I offered.
Ayden kissed me softly. "I just wish my parole wasn't an anchor around your neck. You could go anywhere. You could go to Rome, but I'm holding you back."
I laced my fingers in between his and squeezed his hand. "That's not what this feels like to me. It feels more like this." I pulled him close and kissed him again, deep and lingering.
His face cleared and he finally smiled as we boarded the private plane. Then he made the mistake of checking his phone one last time and saw a series of missed calls from his parole officer.
"She didn't leave a single message," Ayden said. "That can't be good. We had all the paperwork in place. I even met with a parole officer in Waikiki. Why wouldn't she say why she was calling?"
"We'll find out soon enough," I said, but a lump of dread settled into my stomach. It lurched left and right as we took off and the Learjet banked towards Las Vegas.
The missed calls from his parole officer left a grim pallor over our return trip. I tried to concentrate on the book I had started on our honeymoon. I had not made it past chapter three, and I knew once we landed, I would not get a chance to read again for a long time. Ayden stared out the window and scrubbed his stubble covered chin with tense fingers.
When we finally landed at the private airstrip in Las Vegas, I tried to cheer Ayden up. "Look! I wonder who has come to welcome us back?"
Ayden stood up and peered out of my window as the Learjet taxied to its hangar. A town car waited next to our limousine. "Oh my god, it’s Bryon Shelton," Ayden said and swore under his breath.
Our attorney met us at the bottom of the steps. "Hello! Welcome back!"
Ayden stepped onto the tarmac, stopped and crossed his arms over his chest. "Nice of you to come in person. Did we miss something big?"
"Well, I've just been hearing from Alan all about how Darla has finally landed that deal with a line of spas. To be honest, I helped her with the contracts. She's angling to move from the front desk into her own accounts manager office." Shelton tugged at his tie, aware that this was not the news Ayden was most interested in.
"That's so exciting!" I enthused for both of us.
"I also helped connect your father with a real estate agent. He's serious about choosing a condo in Vegas and settling down."
"Yeah, the old man kept sending me pictures," Ayden said, his jaw tense. "Anything else?"
"Oh, I guess you probably did not watch too much television on your honeymoon," Shelton cleared his throat. "The Mertz brothers' trial is still garnering national attention. It’s looking pretty grim for them and most of Las Vegas is celebrating. The reporters have thinned out around Knight Holdings, but your name does crop up often."
Ayden blew out a sharp breath. "You gotta just spit it out, Shelton. Why did you drive out here to meet us? What are you not telling me?"
Shelton tugged on his tie again and gave a strange smile. "I think you might want to sit down for this. Do you mind?" He nodded up the steps to the private plane.
"Just give us a minute to tell the flight crew," Ayden said. He grabbed my hand and hurried me up the steps and into the Learjet.
"I'll let them know. You talk with Shelton," I said.
Ayden whipped around and grabbed me by both shoulders. His laser blue eyes were fiery and focused. "Autumn, what if our only chance to be together is to fly away right now and not come back?"
"What? Ayden, you can't be serious. You can't break parole, and you don't want to live your life on the run."
"And I don't want to live my life without you. Autumn, if they send me back, I'm not sure I'm going to make it." Ayden's fingers dug into my shoulders hard.
"Ayden, you're scaring me. What are you saying? Do you think you broke parole? Are you going back to jail?"
He shook his head, his black hair falling over his forehead. "I have no idea, but I've always assumed my record would catch up with me. What if the Mertz brothers found a way to get back at me, and this is it? I can't go back to prison."
I hugged him hard and then stepped back to study his face. The question terrified me, but I had to ask. "If you can't go back to prison, then what can you do?"
"I know it’s not fair to ask, but if I ran would you go with me?"
I put both hands up to cradle his face and looked deep into his wild eyes. "Of course. Without a doubt. Where you go, I go. Now, please, can we find out what happened?"
Ayden hugged me tightly and then set his mouth in a grim line. He told one of the flight attendants to call our attorney. A second attendant organized drinks for us.
"I've flown on these a few dozen times with different clients," Shelton said with a smile, "but I never get over how they fit so many luxuries so artfully into a small space."
He looked all around and then chose a seat on the curved leather sofa. Ayden sat down across from him in a swiveling leather chair. I sat to his side on a forward-facing seat.
Our attorney happily accepted a drink from the flight attendant and smiled brightly. "So, how was Hawaii? I heard you planned to hike up Mauna Loa. Did you get above the clouds? I've seen pictures, but when I go, the wife usually chooses a place on Kauai and doesn't go much for the adventure tours."
I lost my patience. "You do realize that you are torturing us, don't you? If you have news, it is better to just come out and say it instead of pretending like everything is fine."
To our surprise, Bryon Shelton tipped back his head and laughed. It was such a merry outburst from the normally serious man that Ayden and I both jumped to our feet in panic. Something was seriously wrong and our attorney had clearly lost his mind.
"No, no, please, sit down. I'm sorry. I really do apologize," Shelton said. "I wanted to come myself, and it wasn't until we were on the tarmac that Alan pointed out how my presence might panic you. He bet me I couldn't go more than five minutes without telling you the news, and I took him up on it. I couldn't pass up the opportunity to see him in the golf pants of my choosing."
"What on earth are you talking about?" I did not realize I had yelled until Ayden put an arm around me and squeezed comfortingly.
Shelton looked apologetic, but his wide smile stayed in place. "I came here personally to tell you that the court decision was unanimous. Ayden has been exonerated and his record has been wiped clean."
"I'm sorry, what did you say?" Ayden swayed against me.
"The press release went out this morning." Shelton turned on the television and found a news channel. "You're all over the headlines. As of now, the entire world knows that Ayden King is innocent."
Everything shifted into slow motion as the realization dawned on us. Our attorney saluted Ayden, smiled at me, and left. We turned to each other and hugged, the wordless connection saying more than we could manage.
Finally, we moved to the door. Ayden took my hand, and we walked down the steps to the tarmac. He jumped ahead and then turned and swung me into his arms.
"I know we just got back and we have a board meeting, but what do you think about a weekend trip to Rome?" he asked.
My heart soared. "I'm ready when you are."