Rose

  “Are the Wheetens the key?” I ask, curious as to his take.

  “I’ll be shocked as hell if they aren’t,” he replies instantly. “I’d just like to know where they’ve been for the last twenty-three years. I think we can rule out Rose being abducted because the Maddens are too high profile and have made no attempt to limit her exposure to the public. Exactly the opposite. They’ve lived in the same house since Rose was born. The Wheetens would know exactly where to find them. The daughter was fifteen when Rose was born, so certainly old enough to know where her baby went.”

  I knock my fist against the table in frustration. “Then what in the hell are we missing?”

  “I don’t know,” Lucian sighs. “But I’d love to rattle the cage of her pompous ass of a father and see what shakes out.” When I open my mouth to remind him of what Don said, he adds, “I know, and I won’t do anything—yet. But when and if we get the information that we need, all bets are off.”

  “I’ll drive,” I deadpan, thinking I’d love nothing better than to have a few words with Hoyt Madden about the way he’s treated his daughter. He doesn’t deserve to have a woman like her in his life. Wherever this road leads, I’ll be there for her. She’s getting stronger every day. After years of having it shredded, I can see her self-confidence slowly building. I pray she’s strong enough for what lies ahead because I’m afraid her strength is going to be tested sooner than I would have liked. I’ll do everything in my power to ensure that she’s ready, but ultimately this is her life and she’ll be the one to suffer for the sins of her parents. But this time, she won’t suffer alone.

  * * *

  Lia is waiting for me in my office when I return. She looks nervous, and I’m instantly concerned. “What’s wrong?” I ask as I drop my purse onto my desk. “Is everything okay with Lucian and Lara?”

  “Yeah, of course.” She waves away my question. Then she squeezes her eyes closed for a moment before opening them again. “Please don’t be mad at me. It just happened. I was getting a sandwich for lunch, and he was right there when I turned around. Then he asked about you, and, shit, I lost it, Rose. I went off on him, and now, you’re going to be pissed off.” She twists her hands together in agitation. “I didn’t mean to tell him anything. And now, he’s here wanting to see you. I tried to get him to leave. But it’s not working and—”

  “Whoa.” She’s rambling as she always does when she’s upset, and I know this can go all day if I don’t stop her. Besides, I’m completely lost here. “What in the world are you talking about, chick? Let’s start with who you saw at lunch?”

  She hesitates for a few seconds before saying, “Jake.”

  I don’t know why, but I wasn’t expecting it to be him. Since that night at Leo’s, whenever he’s crossed my mind, I’ve instantly tried to redirect my thoughts. He does not deserve any more of my energy, thought, or time. “What happened?” I ask quietly, motioning Lia over to the small seating area in the corner. I close the door before sitting on the sofa next to her.

  She takes my hand, although I think the support is more for her than me at this point. “I picked up my food and was turning to leave Greta’s and there he was. He asked how you were and where you were living now. He said he’s been by your apartment but found out you’d moved.” She cringes before adding, “I have no idea what came over me, but I was in his face before I could stop myself. Crap, Rose, I told him about what happened with his girlfriend and how much it upset you.”

  “Lia!” I groan in horror. “Please say you didn’t tell him about my hospital trip after that?” The last thing I needed was Jake having more information to give to bitch Barbie and her friend. I was a laughing stock with them already.

  “No, I didn’t tell him about that,” she hurriedly assures me. I let the breath out I’d been holding. “But I think he knew anyway, or maybe he was worried that something could have happened,” she adds, and my sense of relief flies right out the window.

  Air. I need air. Space. I stand and begin pacing the distance of the small room. I can feel the sweat gathering at my temple. My hands are beginning to shake. No, Rose. You don’t have to submit to this attack. Listen to Joanna’s voice here, not your own. If you panic but stay in the situation until you calm down, your panic response will learn that it’s not the situation causing the panic. Okay, I can do this. Jake cannot hurt me. He will not cause a panicked response. Breathe in and breathe out. Yes, Rose, you can do this. I stop the pacing, ready to know more. I can’t imagine why Jake would care. It sounded from Barbie that he was happy to have me off his hands. “Why would he think that? Are you sure you didn’t accidentally let it slip?”

  “Of course, not,” she snaps. “I believe I’d remember that.” Then, as if catching herself, she lowers her voice once again and gives me an apologetic smile. “You guys were together for a long time, Rose, and you said he knows about your—cutting. So wouldn’t it be reasonable to assume that he might be concerned?” When I don’t answer, she rushes on. “Anyway, I walked off and left him standing there after I gave him a piece of my mind. The next thing I know, the receptionist is ringing to let me know that he’s here. During my rant, I told him that you were doing great and we were working together. So he followed me here in hopes of seeing you. He insists that he only wants to apologize.”

  I drop my head in my hands and moan, “Oh God. Why me? The man cheats on me, then makes fun of me to his girlfriend, and now, he wants what, forgiveness?” I laugh hysterically for a moment, prompting Lia to begin biting her nails. The poor thing, I’ve been back for two days and she’s on the edge of a nervous breakdown. I wonder if our relationship was like this in the past? Has my behavior caused Lia stress or have I hidden it so well that Lia had always seen me as the strong one? Flawless?

  She stands and straightens her spine. I bite back a smile as I literally see her put on her game face. “I’ll get rid of him. If I have to, I’ll call the police and have them drag him out kicking and screaming.”

  A giggle escapes as that mental picture presents itself. It would almost be worth it. But maybe I need to put the big-girl panties on and fight my own battles. Joanna and I haven’t tackled the AWARE technique yet, but she has explained it to me, and I can recall the first letter. A – Accept the anxiety. Don’t try to fight it. Avoiding Jake is just another way of running from my problems. He should be the one hiding, not me. I’ve done nothing wrong. “You know what? I will talk to him. I have a few things to say, and since he’s here, I’ll take advantage of it and unload.”

  “Are you sure?” Lia asks looking uneasy. “Do you want me to stay with you?”

  I have no idea why, but I hitch my pants up, then wince because now, I’ve got a wedgie. Shit, that always looks so much cooler in the movies. I discreetly pull them back down again and breathe a sigh of relief when things return to their rightful place. I throw my arm around her shoulders and give her a side hug. “I’ve got this, sweetie. And please don’t worry about any of it. I love you for wanting to kick his ass for me. You’re the best friend that anyone could have, and I’ve gotta say, I can see why Lucian can’t keep his hands off you. I was kind of turned on myself when you started all that raging about Jake.”

  Lia blinks rapidly and then falls against the wall as laughter shakes her small frame. “You’re such a weirdo,” she gasps out. “For a minute there, you had me.”

  I wiggle my brows as I push her aside and open the door. “Who says I was kidding?” I do my best to keep a straight face as I walk toward the reception area. She is so easy to shock. How could she still be so innocent after growing up in such an ugly environment? I am grateful that she has Lucian. He’ll forever keep the wolves at bay and no evil will darken her door again.

  Any amusement I feel dies as I see my ex-boyfriend and the man I once thought I’d spend my life with perched on the edge of a leather chair in the waiting area. His foot is drumming nervously on the floor as he stares off into space. As if sensing my presence, he suddenly looks right
at me, and I see his eyes widen before he gets to his feet. He stops a few inches away and puts his hands in his pockets. His voice is husky and deep as he says, “Rose, It’s … um, good to see you again.” Then he waves a hand to indicate my clothing. “You look different—beautiful—but not like yourself. Shit, that didn’t come out right. You always look good. It’s just, you’ve changed.” His usual confident manner is nowhere to be seen as he shifts on his feet before glancing over at the receptionist who’s watching us with rapt attention.

  Not wanting to air my dirty laundry in public, I point down the hall. “Would you like to use one of the conference rooms?” My office would have been more private, but it’s also smaller and more intimate, and I’m not comfortable with that. Even though I realize it’s impossible, I still want to keep things as impersonal as I can. Plus, I don’t want him in my space. He doesn’t belong there.

  “Yeah, that’d be great.” He sighs, sounding relieved.

  I flip the lights on in one of the empty rooms and motion him in ahead of me. I take a seat at the head of the table, thinking that maybe it will give me a sense of being in charge. Silly to need that, but I’m happy to take any advantage I can. He settles in the chair next to mine and clasps his hands together on top of the table. “So what can I do for you, Jake?” I ask, focusing on some point beyond his shoulder. I may not love him anymore, but it’s still hard to look into the eyes of someone who hurt me so badly. A man I trusted with my secrets. A man I trusted to keep his damn dick in his pants. Shit, now I’m pissed again, and it feels good—no great.

  He clears his throat loudly, and I wait for him to ask for water, but he doesn’t. He gets right to the point. “Lia told me what happened with Mercedes, and I wanted to say that I’m—”

  “Mercedes? That’s your girlfriend’s name?” I begin laughing and can’t seem to stop. I fall against the back of the chair, fanning myself as I attempt to get it together. “Was Volkswagen already taken? How about Volvo? Too tame? Not classy enough for a girl like her?” Instead of being angry, Jake seems to be slinking lower into his seat as if embarrassed. Amazing; he cheated on me with a girl named after a fucking car. He doesn’t say a word as I have my slightly manic moment before wiping away the tears of amusement that had fallen down my cheeks. “Okay, um, sorry about that.” I flex my aching jaw and say, “Go ahead with what you were saying.”

  “I’m sorry,” he blurts out, probably afraid I’ll interrupt him again before he can get it out. “It wasn’t like I could hide the fact that you trashed my car,” he adds almost defensively, and then he seems to crumble. He actually looks as if he may cry. This is not the Jake Ryan that I knew. A contrite man he was not. “I should never have told her about the—other thing.” He puts a hand over mine, squeezing it tightly. “I promise you, Rose. I never made fun of you to her. Regardless of what happened between us, I’d never do that. I loved you too much—hell, I still love you. I just couldn’t be what you needed.”

  “What’s that?” I mock him. “Faithful? Yeah, that was evident with the whole screwing around thing. Us woman are so unrealistic in our expectations, aren’t we?” All right, that may have been a tad bitchy, even for me. But what does he expect? A pat on the head and a fucking cookie?

  “Dammit, Rose, can you just stop for a minute and let me talk?” he bites out. “I know you think I’m a dickhead and you’re not wrong. But I’m trying here, okay?”

  I want to slap him and stomp out of the room. My hand is itching to connect with his smoothly shaven cheek, but the pleading look in his eyes stops me. Jake’s always been an open book. That’s how I knew he was cheating on me. I see nothing but sincerity and regret as he stares at me. Maybe I need this as much as he does. We have a lot of history between us, and it’s always bothered me that he threw our relationship away and hurt me so badly. Rubbing the bridge of my nose, I say quietly, “I’m listening.”

  “This is hard for me to admit,” he says while studying the table. “But I couldn’t handle the pressure of you cutting yourself. I was scared shitless that my actions would drive you to it. Then I moved on to being paranoid that you’d kill yourself over something I did or didn’t do. I didn’t know how to be what you needed.” He looks shamefaced. “When Mercedes pursued me, I was flattered but not interested. I wasn’t lying when I said that I love you. I always have, almost to the point of obsession. But it was so complicated—and she wasn’t. I didn’t have to worry about what I said or did around her because her balls are probably bigger than mine,” he jokes weakly.

  The urge to feel sorry for him is there again. Then I remember how it felt when his girlfriend made fun of me in the bathroom, and the anger is back, surging through me until I’m ready to explode. “You had options, Jake,” I hiss. “Why not just be a man and break up with me? And you certainly could have made the choice NOT to tell Mercedes about my scars.” I sneer at him. “How could you do that? You damn well knew that I’d never told anyone about that. But you and your girlfriend laughed at me like I was some kind of hideous joke.” My voice echoes through the room, and probably down the hallway as well, but I’m too far gone to care.

  “I never laughed at you!” He pounds a fist on the table. “I was literally crying in my fucking beer over you one night and I said more than I should have. She was acting the part of the concerned friend, and I told her how much I missed you. Then she asked why I slept with her if I still wanted you … and it just came out. Swear to God, though, we never joked about it. Actually, it wasn’t brought up again. She was lying about that.” He sounds almost hopeful when he says, “I’m breaking up with her today. I can’t be with someone like that. She isn’t who I thought she was—she’s not you.”

  I need to defuse this situation now. Unless I’m wrong, Jake wants more than to apologize. I get to my feet and he does the same. I step back to keep distance between us. I don’t need his proclamation of love now. I needed it a long time ago. But not now. I need nothing from him now. “Thank you for coming to talk to me. I know it couldn’t have been easy.” I can give him that much. I don’t think I’ll ever be able to forgive him for everything that’s happened, but I do feel better knowing that he wasn’t tearing me down to others. That hurt me as bad or worse than the infidelity. I try not to think about how many people Mercedes has likely told about my situation. I’m slowly trying to accept that I can’t be responsible for the actions of others—only my own.

  He bridges the distance and puts a hand on my arm. “Could I take you to dinner—to let you know how sorry I am? If you’ll let me know where you’re staying now, I can pick you up tonight. Did you move back in with your parents? I called there but kept getting their machine.”

  “Jake, that’s not happening. I appreciate you taking the time to see me today, but I’m involved with someone else. Actually, I’m living with him.” As I’m not looking directly at Jake when I tell him, I can’t see his expression. But by the quick intake of air and lowering of the head, followed by his telltale stroke of the back of his neck, I can sense he wasn’t expecting that answer.

  Taking me by surprise, he says, “You always deserved better than me. I hope you’ve found it now.” I’m still speechless as he drops a kiss on my cheek and leaves the room.

  I feel as if a weight has been lifted from my shoulders. My past is slowly making way for my future, and the fear I’ve lived with for so long is losing its grip on me. I’m still in control. Accept the anxiety. Don’t try to fight it. I’m still in control. Joanna will be proud. Bring on the next bombshell. I’ve got this.

  How I’ll regret even thinking that in the days to come because fate took it a little too literally.

  14

  Rose

  I’m shaking my ass and doing a terrible job singing along to Flo Rida’s “Going Down for Real” as I wash the breakfast dishes from this morning. Max and I had been running late—for a very good reason—and we’d piled them in the sink before we left. He has what is no doubt an expensive dishwasher, but this little
piece of domesticity feels good. Maybe I’ll wash his underwear next; that might bring me back down to earth.

  No sooner has that thought occurred, I hear the doorbell ringing. I swear to God, if it’s the Girl Scouts selling those evil Lemonades again, I won’t be responsible for my actions. All right, maybe I’ll buy another damn box and eat them all in one sitting. Shit, I need to throw that last empty box away before Max finds it.

  I look through the peephole and feel my heart plummet—what is my father doing here? Yeah, I’ve been brought back down with a screeching halt. My father is an expert at that. I ponder not opening the door, but then I’ll just have to worry about him showing up at my office tomorrow. After Jake, I think I’ve had enough unexpected visitors there for the week. I take a deep breath and skip the part about pulling my pants up. I learned my lesson on that one earlier. Holy crap, he’s literally laying on the doorbell now. Ask not for whom the bell tolls…

  I wrench the door open just as his finger hovers over the small circle, ready to push it again. “Go ahead, I don’t think the neighbors heard you the first ten times,” I say sarcastically.

  His eyebrows shoot up into his hairline as if he’s amazed I would speak to him that way. I have to remember that he has no sense of humor whatsoever, whereas Max or even Lucian would laugh over that line. He straightens the jacket of his suit and grumbles, “What took you so long? I’ve got better things to do with my time that stand here all day.”

  I roll my eyes and bite my tongue. I’d love nothing better than to remind him that no one invited him, but I don’t. He pushes by me and walks into the foyer. I wave my hand out, saying, “Do come in.” He completely misses the slight jab, simply waiting for me to close the door and join him.

  I’ve been trained to be the perfect hostess for years, so I find myself reluctantly asking, “Would you like to sit down? The living room is just around the corner.”