Chapter 19
Maddox
I came upstairs to the only place that still felt like mine in that whole estate, my old room. I stood by the door, looking at the three layer steel doors that I had put in place so no one would get in without the keys I had.
Pulling them out of my pocket, I unlocked the three layers before I could unlock the door.
I walked in and looked around, every spot filled with fond memories from back when I was eight years old. It was a little dusty since it hadn’t been cleaned in four months, so I opened the windows to let some fresh air in.
I sat on the bed and reached for the picture on the bedside table but before I could even take in the moment, I was interrupted by my father.
“I was looking for you,” he said as he stood by the door. “I knew I’d find you here. May I come in?”
Everyone knew I didn’t like anyone coming into my room and he was one of the few who always asked.
“Sure.” I glanced at him.
Sitting beside me, he said, “You know, I’ve always told you that this room can be cleaned once every month.”
“It only gets to be cleaned when I’m around,” I reminded him.
“I’m aware of that. Maybe you could come home every month and-”
“I can’t. I’m too busy.”
He sighed. “At least that way, I get to see you come home.”
“I’m here, aren’t I?”
“I just want to see you here more often. Margot is-”
“Please don’t mention her name in this room, not in front of my mother.”
He pressed his lips together, rising to his feet and closing the door. “We’re finally alone and can talk about why I insisted that you come home today.”
His tone was so serious that I turned to face him and at the same time, heels got louder in the hallway,
Right when he was about to speak, the door creaked open. We both looked over and Tiffany and Kate made their way inside, looking around the bedroom with scrunched noses.
“The last time I saw this room,” Tiffany began, “it looked so old and well, still looks old.”
“This room always looks like jail because of these steel bars,” Kate added.
“I don’t remember saying you two could come in.” I tightened my grip on the frame in my hand.
“Right.” She forced a chuckle. “Dad, do you have a second? It’s urgent.”
Before getting up from his seat and heading to the door, he looked at me and said, “I’ll be right back.”
I only gave a light nod, furrowing my eyebrows when I looked to the side. Whatever it was, he didn’t want to say it in the presence of anyone else.
It made me wonder what it could be but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t figure it out.
After gently putting down the picture, I approached the window, watching the trees outside as I thought about how that was one of the longest conversations I had with my father in a long time.
It was only when the bedroom door closed that I glanced behind me. I thought I was now alone, but I wasn’t. Kate was still with me.
Running her fingers through the ends of her hair, she said, “I remember the first time I met you years ago. You were fifteen and had just moved back in after living with your uncle for all those years. This room looked exactly like this. I actually didn’t believe it when Tiffany told me you gave clear instructions that no one should dare change anything about it when renovating the mansion. Now, it even has all these freaking layers just to make sure.”
I had nothing to add, so I looked outside the window.
I could feel her getting closer by the sound of her heels, but I didn’t look back again.
Then, she wrapped her arms around me from behind, resting the side of her face right on my back.
“I’ve missed being this close to you,” she said quietly. “I know you’ve been so busy but, come on, you could have at least replied to one of my texts.”
I pushed her hands off of me, getting away to widen the distance between us. “Why did you tell everyone we fucked two days before Tiffany’s wedding?”
Her lips curved into a teasing smile, like it was just a harmless misunderstanding. “I didn’t tell anyone. I only let them assume. That’s a big difference right there.”
I scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”
She shrugged, moving towards me. “It’s not like it wasn’t going to happen eventually. You and I have fucked quite a few times.”
“The first time was six months ago and the second, two months ago. That only makes it twice.”
“And that’s why I still want more.” She placed her hand on my chest, then trailed it downwards, her breath a little heavier. “I miss it. I know you very well. You miss it, too.”
I didn’t even take a few steps back right away. Kate thought she knew me because we shared a bed a few times.
“And you know what?” she added, lowering her voice, “I look forward to the day you go down on me. I know you just don’t do that for anyone.”
My mind immediately drifted to Harper and the way I shoved my tongue deep inside of her even the previous night. Everything about the way she looked made me want to give her everything. It was the same thing on that first night.
Kate grabbed my attention again when she pressed her hand against the buckle of my belt.
The last thing on my mind was sex at that moment and I was just about to tell her when she suddenly pushed me on the bed, my delayed reaction making me fall on it.
Straddling me right away, she placed her hands on the sides of my face. “Remember how good you fucked me last time? It’s just you and me here. We don’t have to make things complicated.”
She kissed me but I pulled away and looked to the side. “Not here.”
“Why not?” She began to unbutton the shirt of my suit. “Tiffany’s downstairs with your dad. No one is going to walk in here.”
She tried to kiss me again, but I gently pushed her off and said, “This isn’t just a room. Haven’t you looked around? Most of the things here are about my mom, even these sheets. She personally picked them out.”
She sat up, confused. “Okay? Come on, just a few minutes.”
When she reached for the buckle of my belt again,I pushed her hand away, a little harder this time.
“I–I’m sorry,” she said, quickly pulling down her dress. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just-”
“I see you’re still that angry little boy. Still punishing everyone for your mother’s death?”
I smiled, only because I expected nothing less of who Margot really was.
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