Page 20 of Breakout (Walker University #3)

fourteen

B eck pulls up to the gate, and I lean forward, staring at the property in front of me.

“This is insane. This can’t be right, right?” I mutter.

“Only one way to find out,” Beckett says as he rolls down his window. He hits a button on the intercom system, and we wait to see if someone on the other side will respond.

“Can I help you?”

“Hi, I’m Beckett Hayes, and I’m here with my wife, Peyton Anderson-Hayes,” he tells the stranger.

“Of course.” The system buzzes again, and the gates start to swing open.

“Here we go,” Beck says quietly, but my mind is stuck on what he told the man.

Peyton Anderson-Hayes.

I’ve gotten used to hearing him call me his wife, but that’s the first time I’ve heard his last name paired with mine.

Is it hot in here, or is it just me?

Honestly, I wasn’t sure about keeping my name.

I never imagined getting married, so it was never on my mind, but hearing him hyphenate my name, I kind of like it.

Like I’m keeping part of my parents with me even as I move on to the next part of my life.

Maybe I should make it official and get it changed on all my legal documents.

“You good?” he asks, pulling me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah,” I say as he starts to drive down the tree-lined driveway.

Before I know it, the trees clear, and a home appears with a circle in front.

My breath catches while I stare at the stone monstrosity.

It’s gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but it’s just so…

nice. It’s the kind of home you see in magazines and on TV.

The kind of home that’s owned by doctors, lawyers, or just wealthy people, not a college student.

You are wealthy now, a little voice in the back of my head reminds me.

At least I will be once the court stuff is settled. I still feel like this is a dream. I don’t deserve all of this. I keep waiting for someone to jump out and yell “gotcha.”

“This place is nice,” Beckett says as he puts the car in park.

At the same time, we get out and move toward the front door.

“I would have gotten your door,” he says as he takes my hand.

“Sorry,” I apologize half-heartedly.

I noticed he likes being a gentleman with me. I usually let him, but I’m too nervous today. I want to get inside and see the place.

The front door swings open, and a man in a dress shirt and slacks appears. If I had to guess, I’d place him in his mid-fifties.

“You must be Peyton and Beckett.” He bows slightly. “I’m Jeeves, the butler.”

I look over at Beckett with wide eyes and find that he’s already biting his lip, trying not to laugh.

Do we really have a butler, and is his name seriously Jeeves? Surely that’s a joke, right? Like it can’t be his birth name but the one he goes by at work.

“Nice to meet you, Jeeves. Sorry for dropping by unannounced,” Beckett tells him.

Jeeves shakes his head. “No apologies necessary. This is your home. It was only a matter of time before you came. We have been anxiously awaiting your arrival. Can I get either of you anything?”

“We’re good,” I tell him as we step inside.

The interior of the home is a mixture of old and new. The woodwork on the staircase is insane and clearly done by hand, but the floors are clearly newer.

“The floors in here were replaced five years ago, but you can still find some of the original hardwood in some of the rooms,” Jeeves says when he sees me looking at the ground.

Beckett reaches over and takes my hand as we follow Jeeves. “How long did you work for her grandfather?”

Jeeves smiles fondly. “I worked for Matthias for fifteen years.”

“So you knew him well,” I say.

“I would like to think so, yes.” Jeeves comes to a stop right inside the main living area. “Would you like to explore on your own, or would you like me to give you a tour?”

“We will look around on our own, if that’s okay with you,” Beckett tells him.

Jeeves smiles. “This is your home, and you are free to do as you please. I’m here to assist until you tell me otherwise.”

“Is that something you want? To leave, I mean,” I blurt out.

Jeeves’s smile softens. “I promised your grandfather I would stay until you ask me to leave. I’m here to answer any and all questions you may have.”

“Okay.”

“I’ll be in the kitchen if you need me. You’ll find intercoms stationed throughout the house. Just buzz me, and I’ll come to you.” He turns on his heel and walks through a pair of swinging doors.

I turn toward Beckett and hiss under my breath. “We have a freaking butler.”

“Yes, we do.” He smirks. “Come on, let’s see what else we have.”

We pass by room after room until we finally find the one that looks the most lived in. An office.

I walk around the beautifully carved wooden desk. For some reason, the little nicks and dings in the wood make me smile. The leather wingback chair is worn and cracked. There’s a little end table next to the chair with a framed wedding photo and a stack of books.

I pick up the photo, and longing courses through me. This must be my grandparents. God, they both look so young and in love. It’s kind of crazy when you think about it that those two people had no idea what was to come of the family they were creating.

“I found some photo albums,” Beckett says.

I set the frame back where I found it and walk over to him. I rest my chin on the side of his shoulder and lean into his body as he flips through.

Births, deaths, parties, and holidays. Event after event photographed for them to remember. None of the people are familiar to me even though they should be. If he would have taken me in after my parents died, maybe my photo would be in here, mixed with everyone else’s.

“Peyton.”

“Hmm?”

“Look.”

Almost as if I wished it into existence, right there on the page is a birth announcement from a newspaper.

In the grainy black-and-white photo, my parents are beaming as they hold a blanket-clad me.

My mom’s bangs are teased, making them look like poof balls on her forehead, and my dad has what I can only assume is a form of a mullet.

Holy shit.

That’s what they looked like when I was born?

“Your mom was a babe,” Beckett teases.

“Seriously?” I grumble as I pinch his side.

Beckett chuckles. “Sorry, I had to. You’re almost a carbon copy of her.”

“I can’t believe he had that,” I say, slightly changing the subject.

“Just because your dad and mom left the family doesn’t mean your grandfather stopped caring.”

If he really cared, though, he would have taken me in.

Beckett must read the thought on my face. “Pey…”

Before he can say anything else, a loud commotion gets our attention.

“Is someone else here?” he mutters as he shuts the album.

“Jeeves never said, and I didn’t hear a car pull up. Did you?”

He shakes his head. “No, but then again, we are on the back side of the house. Come on.”

We make our way to the living room and come to a stop when a frantic woman comes into view.

“Janis, you know you aren’t supposed to be here. You need to leave,” Jeeves demands.

“Oh, fuck you! You can’t tell me what to do,” the woman scoffs.

My breath catches when the woman’s name registers.

This is Janis? My cousin who’s contesting the will? I don’t know what I was expecting, but it wasn’t this.

Janis is short but rail-thin. Her hair is bleached blonde to the point that it looks brittle. Her makeup is heavily applied, making her look older than what she probably is. It’s her eyes, though, that really stick out. They look crazed. As if she is on something.

She must feel my attention because she turns toward me, and her eyes narrow.

“You!” she hisses, full of venom.

As soon as I see her, I know exactly what kind of woman she is. I’ve known her type my entire life. Janis lunges forward, only for Jeeves to step between her and Peyton.

It wouldn’t have mattered, though. I am quicker, blocking Peyton from any threat.

“Ms. Janis. You need to leave. You know you are not permitted to be here and are currently trespassing,” he tells her firmly.

“You’ve ruined everything, you money-stealing whore!” Janis rants.

Peyton flinches at the insult as she steps into my side, hugging my arm to her chest.

“You will not speak to my wife like that,” I growl.

For the first time, Janis’s eyes move to me. My body shudders as she checks me out from head to toe, licking her lips.

“How much?” she asks.

“Excuse me?”

“How much will it be for you to leave her and admit that this is a giant scam?”

Peyton’s breath catches.

“I don’t know where you got the impression that things between my wife and I are a scam, but I can assure you that they are not,” I tell her firmly.

“A million? Two? At most I can go three,” Janis says.

“Are you serious right now?” Peyton scoffs.

“I don’t know what hole you crawled out of, but you need to go back home now and leave my family alone. My grandfather’s fortune is mine,” Janis sneers.

“You know, I thought it was weird that he left you nothing, but now it makes sense. I wouldn’t have left you anything either.” Peyton shakes her head.

Janis steps forward and points her finger. “This is your last warning. Walk away, or I will kill you.”

“Is that a threat?” I ask as I move in front of Peyton once more.

“It’s a promise,” Janis tells me.

“Ms. Janis, the cops are on their way, and you’ll be arrested for trespassing,” Jeeves says as he hurries back into the room.

Shit, I didn’t even notice when he stepped away.

“More than that when they find you are threatening my wife’s life.”

Janis scoffs as she picks up her handbag. “Please, like the cops in this town are going to touch me. They know who I am.”

“I’m sure they will know who I am too. It seems you don’t. Maybe you should do your research. My family lawyers will have a field day with you, that’s if your own don’t first. If I were you, I would leave while you still can.” I step forward, wanting to make this woman disappear.

The trauma she is putting Peyton through right now is killing me. I want to wrap her up and protect her from this. I can’t, though.