“As in my mother was crying?”
She gives a grim nod and whispers, “Yes.”
“Are you sure we’re talking about the same person?”
“No. Yes. I mean, this is how it was with my mother too, Shane. It’s hard to see our parents change and become weak. But I know you want me to get on with this and tell you what she did or didn’t do. So. Here goes. First, she says she doesn’t love Mike. She said she was lonely and it just happened. She also says she doesn’t have a clue about a takeover, and got irate and ready to attack Mike when I said he was up to no good.”
“And you believe her?”
“Yes. I do believe her. I also believe she loves your father and regrets her affair with Mike, which is what left her vulnerable to Martina’s threat to expose her affair.”
A muscle in my jaw begins to spasm. “What did she agree to do?”
“Helped him get to our door last night. Nothing more. She had no idea Ted was going to be hurt, and the idea that she allowed that to happen shook her badly, Shane. Ramon is the one who threatened her. He visited her. She thought he might rape her.”
Anger, red-hot and fierce, pours through me, and I lace my fingers together, containing it, ruling it the way I plan to rule Ramon and Adrian. Seconds tick by, and I remove my phone from my pocket and dial Derek. “Come down to the bar,” I say when he answers. “It’s important.” I end the call and lift a finger, silently calling Seth and Cody to our sides. They join us, Cody beside Emily and Seth beside me. I look at Emily. “Tell them what you told me.”
She gives a tiny nod and quickly, succinctly relays the information before I look at Seth and ask, “How, if we were watching her, did they get to her?”
“She and Mike met at a hotel last night,” he says. “Obviously Ramon had a plan to sneak her out and get her here. And I do not like Ramon’s involvement. I recommend we put your parents on a plane to Germany tomorrow morning. Get your mother out of here.”
“Agreed,” I say, glancing at Emily and Cody. “Where is my mother now?”
“The bathroom,” Emily says. “She’s been in there a long time now too.”
I look at Emily. “Derek needs to understand what Martina is doing to our family. Tell him.” She nods, and I stand up, suddenly angry all over again at my mother’s actions. Emily grabs my hand and stands.
“I know you’re angry with her. I am too, but remember. She’s human. And if there is one thing I learned from losing my father, guilt can be a brutal pill to swallow.” She releases my hands and I turn away, rejecting her words, that anger I’m feeling already rooted in a hot spot that refuses to cool.
Crossing the bar, I reach the bathroom door, and without even a blink, enter the women’s bathroom as I did once before to find Emily. My mother is sitting on a chair to my right, and the instant she sees me, she pops to her feet and bursts into tears. “I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I just … I just … I don’t what to say, Shane.”
Her torment and pain rip through me, clawing away at my anger and leaving something far starker that I cannot name. But it drives me forward, and toward her, and she flings herself into my arms. I close my arms around her, holding her as she sobs. My mother, the queen herself, is sobbing. I hold her like this, and time stands still, but my emotions do not. I know Emily says she’s human, but I don’t know this woman I’m holding who can be this weak. But I do know she’s a creation of the Brandon family name.
The bathroom door opens, and my mother doesn’t seem to notice, keeping her face plastered against my shoulder. Or maybe she’s afraid of what she must now face: my brother. Derek walks in, stepping to us, his expression as stark as those emotions I cannot name. We stare at each other across her head, brothers again, for a reason neither of us wants to exist: this is an attack on our family. And while I’ve thought it and said it many times before, this is a war we are fighting, and it has never been so real.
I release my mother, and she turns to Derek, the two of them staring at each other, no words, no tears. It’s their way of coping, and I step to the door to allow them their private reconciliation. Exiting the bathroom, I find Emily standing there. I wrap her in my arms, and those stark emotions I’m battling are suddenly bearable. I cup her face and stare down at her. “When this is over, I’m going to properly propose, and you’re going to say yes. Because I’m going to make sure you love me so much, you can’t say no.”
“I already do, Shane.”
I press my forehead to hers, my lashes lowering, savoring her words, her smell, her body next to mine, until the bathroom door opens behind me. Emily reacts immediately, pulling us closer and kissing me. “I’ll be nearby.” She backs up and disappears as Derek steps to my side.
“Mom’s freshening up.”
“Mom,” I say. “Like Pops. We never call them those names anymore.”
“Maybe it’s time we do,” he says as Seth steps in front of us. “And maybe,” Derek adds, “it’s time Ramon dies.”
Seth doesn’t react. He never does. He’s stone-cold. The bathroom door opens again, and my mother, Mom, steps to Derek’s side, lacing her arm with his. “I’m ready to go back upstairs.”
“I need a word with Shane,” Seth says.
“We’ll go on up,” Derek says, looking at me, hatred in his eyes, but it’s no longer for me. He starts walking, leaving Seth and me alone.
“You spoke to Cody instead of me about Ramon,” Seth says, “because you knew he wouldn’t do it. And you know, even if you don’t like to admit it, that part of the reason I’m so close to you is that you understand me and what I’ve done in my life. You know what I’m capable of doing. And you knew if you came to me about Ramon, I would find a way to end him without recourse. You want him dead. You come to me when you’re really ready.” He turns and starts walking.
My lips quirk, that stark feeling completely gone. “Seth.” He stops walking and turns to face me. “I’m ready.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
EMILY
From a nearby table in the bar, I watch Shane in the moments after his mother departs with Derek, as he and Seth have an exchange, standing there in the archway by the bathrooms, his blue suit hugging every athletic line of his tall, powerful body. On the surface he is simply a gorgeous man who owns the room, and every situation he so chooses to own. But it’s the man beneath that presence who calls to me, who knows me as I know him, in ways that simply can’t be defined. And now, with Seth departing, Shane’s gaze lifts, seeking me out, and it’s an amazing thing, the way his eyes warm when they fall on me. The way he makes me feel like I’m the light in the emotional storm he’s just traveled through with his mother. Like he has been the light in the storm of my past that delivered me to Denver, and to him.
I stand up and close the distance between us, and he watches my every step, and I his, the room fading away to just us, if only for these few precious moments. And when the space dividing us is erased, his arm automatically slides around my shoulders, our path leading us toward the main hotel, our steps automatically falling into sync. “How bad was it with your mother?”
“Was that my mother?”
“Shane,” I say softly. “Just remember—”
“She’s human,” he supplies. “I know. And that’s all the more reason to get her and my father to Germany sooner rather than later. We’re working on getting them on a plane by morning.”
I sense the relief in him with this plan. His mother will be out of the sights of Ramon and Mike. And it is, indeed, a good plan, but I am instantly aware of the good-bye to his father that he will soon share, and it could come sooner than he expected. I don’t say this to him though. Not now. And I really don’t have a chance to have that conversation with him anyway. We round the corner to the main hotel area and start walking toward the elevator. “Will they stay the night here?”
“That remains the plan,” he says.
“And Jessica?”
“We’ll use the press situation to keep her here for the night,
” he says, “and then reassess her situation once I talk to Adrian.”
“And you’re making him come to you.”
“That’s right.”
“And he’s making you go to him,” I say.
“He’s an impatient man who hates to be ignored,” he says. “He’ll come to me, but not before he tries to force me to be reactive first.” He turns us to the elevator banks, where Cody catches up with us.
“An update,” Cody says, punching the call button, his dark eyes instantly engaging, his dark hair curling at the longish ends. His attention is on Shane as he adds, “One of my men is escorting Derek, who’s setting your mother up in a private suite for your parents to share. Derek seemed to think she needed to pull herself together before she’s with your father again.”
“I forget how smart my brother is sometimes,” Shane approves, the elevator doors opening, the three of us stepping inside, where we are silenced by the risk of recording devices represent. And while this is something I’ve been aware of before now, the idea that Ramon might be watching just plain gives me chills. It also creates a new concern for me regarding Jessica’s safety that I wait to express until we’ve exited the elevator, just outside the car, where I pause to ensure I have both men’s attention.
“Won’t Jessica being here tonight actually bring attention to her and make her a target?” I ask. “I mean, Derek’s secretary isn’t here. With Jessica here when she’s not, it makes Jessica look important, which isn’t the way you want Martina or Ramon to see her. And Jessica doesn’t know about Martina at this point, but she’s smart. If you keep her around here long enough, she’ll figure it out.”
“Seth actually brought up those very concerns a few minutes ago,” Cody says. “He wants to get her home tonight and have her place monitored, but not until late. We want every second we have to see how things develop.” He glances at Shane. “Unless you have a problem with this strategy.”
“Not at all,” Shane says, urging me forward, down the hallway toward our apartment, and while I am actually impressed with how forward-thinking Seth is, that “how things develop” comment is bothering me. It speaks of dangerous unknowns, and without question, if we don’t find leverage to get Adrian Martina to walk away, someone else will get hurt. But as we reach our door, I decide voicing the obvious does nothing. Shane and everyone on his team—even Derek, of all people—are clearly working their backsides off to get us out of this.
Whatever the case, Shane opens the door, and it’s time to put this aside and show Jessica a happy face. Only Jessica isn’t the one who wants my attention. I step inside the apartment, and almost instantly Brandon Senior shouts, “Ms. Stevens, I need you in here!”
Cody locks up behind us, then heads into the apartment, while I sigh and take a step toward the kitchen, my path to Brandon Senior where he still sits in the dining room. Shane catches my hand, snagging my fingers and walking me back to him. “Ms. Stevens,” he says softly. “I need you upstairs.”
My eyes go wide. “No. Your father and Jessica are here.”
His eyes alight with mischief. “That didn’t stop us earlier.” He kisses me. “I’ll behave, but just know this. Every time I want to throttle someone this afternoon, I’ll distract myself by thinking of you with no panties on.” He cups my backside through my dress, his cheek sliding to mine, lips near my ear. “I really love your ass.” He nips my lobe, and I yelp as his father calls out again, “Ms. Stevens!”
“Jesus,” Shane growls, easing back to look at me. “I don’t know how you put up with that. I’m going in the office to call Ted’s wife, and then I’ll come rescue you from the hell that is my father.”
“You’re calling Ted’s wife?”
“And Ted too if he’s up to talking, though I’d doubt it. But I do think he needs to hear our appreciation, and they both need to know we’re going to take care of them.”
“My heart just melted,” I confess. “I think I just fell more in love with you.”
His sexy, full lips quirk. “Remember that the next time I piss you off the way I did this morning.” He kisses my hand and walks away, cool and confident, seemingly unaffected by all that has slammed into him these past few days. But there is something beneath his surface, a darkness—anger, even. I wonder what will happen when it surfaces.
And who will get hurt.
* * *
The next few hours see afternoon become evening, for most of which Shane and Derek are behind closed doors in the dining room with their father, though each of them come and go randomly for meetings I don’t question. For the most part, Jessica and I remain curled on the floor in the office, in front of the couch, our shoes off, coffee on fast pour. Turns out that together we are a dynamic team, efficiently handling all leftover business matters for the Brandon men and clearing their slates and ours. It’s not long after that, nosy bee that she is, Jessica discovers my file on the fashion brand I’ve proposed for Bandon Enterprises, and her excitement that follows is nothing short of addictive. We start making plans and drafting ideas, and without knowing she’s doing it, she’s helped me keep my mind off Adrian Martina.
“I think you should have a Jessica line,” she says. “And, of course, I’ll approve the designs. They have to live up to my very high standards.”
“Of course.” I laugh. “And they are high.”
She strokes her new long blond hair. “We have hair extensions. And so many shoes. Like, two floors of shoes.”
“We aren’t a department store.” I laugh again. “A brand name.”
“We could do both.”
From there, we talk for hours, and in that time, I learn little things here and there about Jessica. Turns out that underneath her shell of confidence and perfection is pain. She’s adopted, but her parents are no longer alive, and little hints tell me they weren’t such nice people anyway. And while I knew she was burned in a relationship before, I discover he was older than her, worked with her in some way, and that she is affected by that past in some deep, damaging way. I’ve known for quite some time that Shane helped her after that relationship, but I don’t ask details, and I won’t. When she’s ready, it’s her right to tell me, not him. But for me, certain things are clear. He’s like a brother to her, and we are her family. Incredibly, the Brandon family, in all its destructive glory, has managed to heal us both through Shane. He saved her, like he did me.
The seven o’clock hour arrives, a long day closing up, and the Brandon clan, along with several of Nick’s men, head to the family house to pack for an early morning flight to Germany. It’s also time for Jessica to depart, and it’s at the door, after Cody has explained her security escort as a way to avoid the press, that I find myself giving her a big hug and silently vowing that we won’t allow her to be hurt.
Suddenly, the energy in the apartment is at a low, with my only guest, Cody, hanging out on the couch, watching television. I retreat to the office and, feeling a growing need to get us out of pharmaceuticals and drugs, I leave a voice mail for the analyst I’ve been working with on fashion acquisitions, hoping to hear from him soon. With that done, I dive into my research on Mike, which leads to one of my list-making frenzies that are all about control, of which I have none right now. I write down the names of Mike’s close friends, with Brandon Senior at the top of the list. Then names of known rivals, followed by principals in companies he’s invested in.
While working, my eyes keep catching on my wrist, where I used to wear the bracelet that was once my mother’s. That I can no longer wear without fear of exposing a link to a past I can never claim. This leads me to thoughts of Maggie and her transition to this unrecognizable person, the comparison to my mother refusing to be ignored. As does my brother, who decides to pop into my head, as does his involvement with hackers as nasty as Martina. For all I know, he has found his own crate, with no way out. Inevitably, those things lead me to another place: my father. Or maybe it’s more watching Brandon Senior interact here today, the way he barks orders
, familiar now, when my own father would have been kind and respectful.
At least until he was selfish and brutal by killing himself.
Irritated at the direction of my thoughts, and recognizing that today has been full of old triggers I normally control better, I’m ready for a break. After careful consideration, I decide my lists are all public record and therefore safe to e-mail. I punch in Shane’s address and shoot them off to him in the hopes they help in some way. Task complete, and trying to shake off the uneasy feeling clawing at me, I stand up and stretch. Still uneasy, I exit the office to find Cody in the kitchen, his back to me as he makes coffee, which allows me a quick escape upstairs. Once there, I shut the door and walk into our room, where I find two cases sitting on the bed. Gun cases. A familiar—but long ago extinguished—fire in my chest starts burning, and with it, my hesitation to walk to those guns.
No. No. No. I have been past this for a long time. This doesn’t make sense. I cross the small space between me and the bed and reach for the smaller of the two cases. Inside is a shiny new Luger, a compact weapon with a limited recoil, which makes it a top choice for women. I pick it up to sample the weight, and that burn in me intensifies, and images long put to rest begin to flicker in my mind. My father. Blood. Heartache. That burn again that I know as heartache, which takes me back to blood and vivid images long suppressed. I all but drop the gun on the bed, which isn’t a smart thing to do, but my hands go to my hips—not it. It sucks this is happening. It sucks big-time, but I remind myself that I know how to manage this.
I reach for the gun to put it away, but I think better, leaving it on the bed, and turn to walk into the bathroom. The room is never fully dark, natural moonlight entering from two overhead panels, so I don’t turn on the light. I just strip off my clothes, turn on the shower, and step inside. Once I’m there, I angle the showerhead toward the corner and sit down, pulling my knees to my chest. The water is hot and it pours over me, and I try to think of it, just it. It works for a few minutes, but then I’m seeing blood. Dripping. Running. Pooling. So much blood.