“Fifteen-mile run.” He stared ahead at nothing, his empty gaze hardening. “Still depressed.”
Steph chewed on the inside of her cheek. Finn’s expression indicated this was a bad situation—Bubonic Plague bad.
“But he knows we’re coming, right?” What if Bran doesn’t want me there? What if I make it worse?
“I told him I’d be there as soon as I could. You’ll be a surprise. A nice one.” His head nodded as if he were certain of this fact. She hoped Finn knew his friend as well as he thought he did. “Bran probably doesn’t expect me ‘til tomorrow. But he’ll be there—he never leaves the estate, anymore.”
Chapter 24
Branson was too worried about Steph to be nervous about traveling away from home. He’d thrown a few items in an overnight bag, in case he had to stay a few days. But he had every intention of bringing Steph and Ellie back to Chicago where he could protect them.
As the jet lifted into the sky, Bran rehearsed his speech. Should he explain the threat his father posed and justify the need for Steph to stay close? Would that make her want to cling to him for protection or run as far away as possible? Should he address the fact that Carina might need physical help raising his little half-brother or sister? Would she be able to handle the child’s intrusion into their lives or would she insist on a divorce?
With a growl of frustration, he realized Stephanie deserved much better than the life he could offer, fraught with complications, stress, and danger. He hated himself for bringing more sadness into her life. But he couldn’t live without her—he knew that now. He would do everything in his power to keep her safe and make up for the hurt he caused her.
Perhaps he should hire a bodyguard. Wasn’t there a movie about a woman with a bodyguard? Didn’t she fall in love with her protector? Scratch that idea. I’ll do it myself.
Fifteen minutes into the flight, the pilot’s voice came over the loud speaker. “Mr. Knight, I’ve just received a radio communication from home base. They wanted me to inform you Mr. Anderson’s jet is landing at the estate, even as we speak.”
If Finn was in Illinois, that meant Stephanie was alone in New York.
Is she at risk? Surely my father hasn’t been able to locate her in less than twenty-four hours.
Branson made his way to the front of the plane and opened the cockpit door.
“Hey, Bran.” Hosea, his long-time pilot and friend, fell into casual speech as he shouted over the noise. “Want to fly the plane for a bit?”
Bran grinned, in spite of his anxiety. Hosea had let him fly the plane, much as an adult allows a kid to drive a car. “No, thanks.” Careful not to bump the controls, he slid into the copilot’s seat, empty for the short, one-hour flight.
“Are we turning back?” Hosea asked.
“No. Stay on course.”
“Whatever you say, boss. Want the headphones? They’re hanging up and to your right.”
As he slipped the headphones on, rock music began to play in his ears. “Seventies music,” Bran commented into the mic. “My favorite.”
“I remembered,” Hosea remarked. “It’s been a long time. You and I used to spend a lot of hours up here. You were always going places. Some new adventure. Never knew what was next. I really missed that these last couple of years. Nice to have you back.”
“It’s nice to be back.”
At once, Bran realized exactly how close his father had come to destroying his life. Branson had given up everything he enjoyed to prove he could beat his father at his own game. Yet, Bran would never find joy in winning, because he hated that game. The only way to win was not to play.
Wasn’t that what he’d learned when his friends roped him into the Vegas trip? The few moments he forgot all about achieving his new goals—the ones designed to stick it to his dad—those were the times he felt like himself again. He’d neglected the relationships that meant most, trying to build ties with people he hated.
How could I be so blind? At that, he chuckled, knowing it was the kind of tongue-in-cheek remark Fordham would make. Come to think of it, Fordham had been nagging at him about this issue for the past two years, though Bran refused to listen.
The radio squawked, Fordham’s voice speaking. “Please inform Mr. Knight he no longer needs to fly to New York. Stephanie Caldwell is here.”
A weight lifted from Bran’s shoulders, and he couldn’t help laughing. He felt giddy and light, like he could fly without the plane. As Hosea banked the jet into a one-eighty, Bran sang along with the music in his ears. “The boys are back in town…”
Stephanie paced in front of the glass doors, waiting for the transport van to bring Branson back to the estate. According to Fordham, he’d been flying to New York to talk her into moving back. Evidently, he feared his father might cause her physical harm. The idea sounded absurd, but Fordham believed it was possible.
It seemed Branson was now dealing with both depression and anxiety. Her heart hurt for him. As much as she loved him, she knew she couldn’t fix everything in his life. All she could do was hug him and remind him he had people who loved him.
“Could you please sit down?” Finn complained from the bench on the side. “You’re making my eyes cross. He’ll be here in a minute.”
“I think I see him coming.” Steph stepped outside, shading her eyes with her hand as she peered into the distance.