A Grave Accidental Coincidence

The impact deprives me of air, and Hayden cries out. My breath trembles, and my hands do the same as I check his body, examining him for injuries.

“Are…are you okay?” I stutter, still examining Hayden.

“Yes, I'm okay,” he says, his voice thin and shaky. He's looking at me. “Are you okay?”

I nod more than once. “Yes.”

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Benjamin,” Edward apologizes, his voice trembling in guilt. “I didn't see that coming.”

My gaze is on the car we rammed into. “It's okay.”

We might be okay; however, I doubt the people in that car are. I place my hand on my banging chest. My breath shudders in fear.

“I'll go check them out,” Edward says, opening his door.

“Let me.” I come down from the jeep. It's my Jeep, my driver, my responsibility.

I scurry to the car, banging on the window and pulling on the door handle. They might be in a critical state. The thought barrels through my mind.

“Hello?” I call, jerking hard on the handle. My heartbeat eclipses the blaring of horns from cars behind us.

Suddenly, the door latch clicks, and the door swings outward without my awareness.

I gasp as I lose my balance. I'm falling back towards the hard asphalt.

A strong arm grabs me by the hand, breaking my fall. He pulls me into his hard chest and rings the small of my back.

Lester's familiar scent engulfs me. His scent that once made me excited now makes my skin crawl. The person who comes to mind is Hayden; he's watching. My stomach churns at the realization of Hayden's ability to pick up even a subtle detail.

Aware he won't let go without a struggle, I say softly, “Let go. My son doesn't have to see any of this.”

“Before I do,” he says and swallows. “I need a reason why you despise me this much.”

“How can you ask—” I pause and look up at him with narrowed eyes as it begins to dawn on me I'm missing something: the look he gave me in the courthouse, like it's the first time we met; he has been around me for eight years and yet never came close; and I just mentioned my son, but he didn't care to ask if he was his. What happened to him? Hit with all these realizations, a medley of questions bubbles up in my lungs, but I say instead, “What's your mind telling you?”

“None that I can think of,” he says. “But that doesn't answer the question.”

The traffic light turns green, and cars flood the road, engulfing our voices. The horns grow loud, and swearing from angry drivers ensues. Vehicles speed past us from the side.

“You know, can we still talk without being this close to each other?” I say, and he releases me from his grip. I walk to his car, watching the damage done to it. It's badly scraped and dented. I'm still looking at it, feeling it, giving Hayden the wrong impression of what's going on. “I have many questions to ask before giving you a reason why I dislike you, so let's do this some other time.”

“Well, then you could give me a lift.” He leans against the trunk, facing me. “Actually, I was on my way to your house before your jeep hit my car.”

“Let's talk tomorrow,” I say, eager to dismiss him. The more I delay the conversation, the more uneasy I get. Hayden must be making up assumptions as we speak, so the best thing I need is an excuse to leave his presence.

“I can't wait until tomorrow.” He's approaching. “Venue: your house or mine. Choose one.”

“Your place,” I say, eager to leave his raging scent and presence. I'm scurrying back to my jeep. “Send me the address, and I'll be there. And I…m.” I stop and turn to him. He deserves an apology for his damaged car. “I'm sorry about your car. I'll have my insurance company contact you. You can even get a new one if you'd like.”

“That's so thoughtful of you, Attorney Hillary,” he says in a cheerful tone as I make my way to the jeep. “Drive safely this time,” 

I climb into the jeep and shut the door. “Sorry it took so much time,” I say, switching gazes between Edward and Hayden.

“Was he also born different?” Hayden asks as I clip my seatbelt.

“I guess so,” I say regardless of the shock his question throws at me.

Lester is still on the road, gazing at the tinted glass as if he can see me through it.

Edward drives off, and I sigh softly, relieved Lester is out of sight. For now.

 “Do you know him?” He stares at me through his glasses. “You talked like you knew each other.”

“He met at the court today,” I say, returning his gaze. From his arched brows, I know for a fact he doesn't believe me, or he's still processing his choices of whether to believe or not. I just hope he believes me.

“Oh,” he mutters.

Edward is driving slower than usual.

I'm staring at my son, at other distinct features the disguise failed to veil. His dimples can easily give him away, and his amber eyes. Though Lester has red eyes, his eyes used to be amber before his wolf surfaced and lived on the surface.

I'm walking behind Hayden as we head to the front door, still lost in the thought of his disguise not being sufficient. It might be for everyone, but not for Lester, if they cross paths. I shake my head. I won't let that happen, but how?

“Hey, knight,” I call Hayden when a realization hits me. He stops in the middle of the living room, looking at me. Instead of asking for a favor not to stay indoors for a while, I say, “I'm sorry about how our date went. I'll make up for it next time.”

“Okay,” he mutters with a smile and turns, walking towards the stairs.

Frustrated, I sigh roughly and bite my lower lip. Asking him for such a favor will make him curious about who Lester really is. He might even ask a question that will indirectly squeeze the truth out of me. I sigh roughly again and dash to my office.

Almost forty-two minutes later, I lean into my chair, my teeth clenching in frustration. I just scoured news feeds spanning the past nine years to date, desperate for any sign of an illness Lester might have endured that could have damaged his memory, but there's none. Not once did he even miss a summit meeting.

“I think he's trying to mess with me,” I say to my secretary, Felicia, who's also going through her phone for any news on Lester. 

Felicia is a friend of Benjamin who later turned into a friend I can rely on. At first, I used to get jealous each time I saw her with Benjamin, scared she would snatch him from me, but she turned out to be a senior sister I never had.

“I think you're right.” She drops her phone on my desk and tilts to the right in her chair, leaning in. “He must be putting up an act just to have you again.”

I push to my feet, pacing with slow steps; my thoughts weigh on me. If he were really desperate to have me, he would have begged for forgiveness, but he didn't. I know I'm missing some puzzles, but I can't find them. Only Lester can.

“This is bad,” Felicia says from the desk. “Should I file for a restraining order?”

My breath shudders when my phone starts to ring.

“Who's calling?” I struggle to ask, trotting to the desk.

“I think he's the one.” She takes the phone from the desk, handing it over to my trembling hands. “Unknown caller.”

“Get a restraining order first thing tomorrow morning.” My voice is breathy. I grab my handbag that's packed with defensive gadgets and hurry towards the door. This Lester terrifies me; I fear sharing a space with him. The way he keeps breaking boundaries to touch me even in front of Hayden is alarming.

“I will.” She springs up from her seat, watching me leave.

Scared he would be on his way here, if I don't pick up, I take the call.

“Hello, sweet Attorney Hillary,” he murmurs over the phone, his voice calm and intimate.

The doorbell rings, and I jolt, shocked.

My heart stutters at the thought of Lester being on the other side of the door.

“Is that Dad?” Hayden asks, already at the door. 

“Hayden, don't—”

The door handle turns, turning my remaining words to a gasp.