by L A Cotton
“Relax, he just wants to talk.” Annie patted my arm as we walked down a corridor I’d never seen. The dim lighting made it difficult to see, but I counted three doors on the left and one on the right. We didn’t stop at any of those; instead, we stopped outside of the door at the end of the corridor.
“In you go, doll.” Annie nudged me forward, and I reached out for the handle unsure of what to do.
“Go on, he’s waiting.”
I turned the handle and pushed open the door. Like the rest of the club, the room was a mix of sleek furniture and leather seats. O’Connor was busy working at a desk, but he looked up as I stepped inside and the door clicked shut behind me.
“Jackson, thanks for joining me. I hope you’re enjoying the party?” He rose from his desk chair and came around to greet me, extending his hand.
I reached out wrapping my hand in his, hoping he didn’t notice the layer of moisture on my palm or the erratic throb of my pulse.
“It’s been interesting.”
O’Connor barked a laugh before releasing my hand and moving to a cabinet on the far wall. “Drink?”
I nodded. The burn of something strong would hopefully take the edge off the nerves vibrating through my whole body.
“Here you go.” He handed me a crystal tumbler and motioned to an empty chair. I took his lead and sat down, relieved I no longer had to think about standing up.
“So, at last, we meet formally. Michael was a dear friend.”
“I recognized you from some photographs,” I admitted.
“I wondered if you would. I’ve been waiting for some time to meet you.”
He has?
“How are you finding things now that Braiden is no longer on the scene?”
This was not what I was expecting. If O’Connor’s intention was to make me sweat it out, then it was working.
“I, hmm…” I cleared the lump in my throat. “It’s been a crazy few months.”
O’Connor smiled, changing his whole appearance. Gone was the intensity and intimidating presence and in its place was a man who looked at ease with himself, almost playful.
“I’m sure it has, and Marcus explained why things had to happen the way they did?”
So he did know about Braiden.
“He gave me the overview. I’m still a little unsure about some of the details though.”
“Like…” His question lingered, teasing me.
Was this a test? And if it was, would I pass or fail?
“I know there were concerns that Braiden was drawing too much attention with his feud with Reibeckitt, but who made the decision to let him take the fall?”
O'Connor regarded me for a second then crossed one leg over the other and leaned back into the chair. “Jackson, let me explain some things to you.”
I inhaled a discreet breath, waiting.
“Your father, Marcus, and I were friends. More than just friends, we were brothers. Back then, we were young, reckless, and driven by our own greed, but I was already set to inherit my father's role within the families. Priorities changed.”
“But Dad worked with Marcus until he died.”
Something flashed in O'Connor's eyes, but it was gone as quickly as I caught it.
“He did. Your dad and Marcus had a bond like no other, but where Marcus' downfall would be his greed, your father's would be his loyalty.
“Before we knew it, I'd taken over for my father, and Marcus and Michael discovered they were going to be fathers themselves. Our lives were changing, Jackson, moving in different directions, and ultimately, they would have to call me boss. It didn't bother Michael; he was adaptable, easygoing. But Marcus didn't like it. He was bitter and resentful. Braiden isn't the first time I had to call him into line..”
So the order did come from O’Connor. That wasn’t quite the way Marcus made it sound, and my mind started working overtime, slotting together the missing pieces of the growing puzzle.
“Before your father died, things were contentious. Marcus was overstepping the line on a regular basis. Even Michael struggled to rein him in. There was a disagreement and things were never the same between us, but the Donohue family have been around for a long time, Jackson, and although Marcus had always been difficult, he’s never given me reason to question his loyalty."
“Why are you telling me all of this?” I interrupted him.
O’Connor regarded me for a second then scratched the stubble on his jaw. “You deserve to have the facts.”
Silence hung in the air between us. I was running out of time to make my move, but I needed a sign that Landon had succeeded.
O’Connor rose from his chair and moved over to the cabinet again. I assumed he was refilling his glass, but when he turned around, he was holding a white envelope.
“I received some interesting information today.”
He walked over to me and handed me the envelope. I already knew what it contained, but I took it and slid out the black and white images.
“Do you know who that is?”
O’Connor wasn’t pointing to Marcus; he focused on the lanky man standing opposite him. Hair slicked to one side and dark glasses covering his eyes, he looked every bit the bad news Landon had implied he was.
“Jackson?”
My heart thudded in my chest cavity so hard I could hear it in my ears. This was it. The moment that could either set me free or ruin me.
“I believe that man is Denny Raine.”
“And how do you know that?”
This was a test; O’Connor was testing me. Straightening my back, I looked him right in the eyes. “I asked someone to take those photos.”
“I see.”
O’Connor withdrew the envelope and photos from my hand and returned to his chair. Running his forefinger and thumb along the seams of his jaw, he narrowed his eyes.
Steeling myself, I made my move. “I didn’t think you’d appreciate being undercut or lied to.”
“So this is for my benefit?" He laughed harshly. "Don’t insult my intelligence, boy.”
O’Connor’s eyes hardened and I knew I was seeing a glimpse of the man strong enough to head an organized crime ring that stretched at least four states. He stood again and rounded his desk, tucking his hand into his jacket and pulling out a handgun. He placed it down on the desk in plain sight. It was a move to incite fear—to remind me of my place in the food chain—and it worked. My heart pounded so hard, I felt sure he could see my chest shaking from the impact.
“You’re playing a dangerous game, Jackson. I’ve killed men for less.”
I was past the point of no return. O’Connor knew I was behind the photographs, I couldn’t take that back. So there was only one way to play it.
“The kid in Reibeckitt, the one in the ICU, Raine’s coke put him there. He might not make it. I can’t have that on my conscience. Someone came to me with info that Marcus was stashing your coke and selling the laced product.”
“It sounds like you have been doing your homework.”
“I wanted to come to you with this directly. This was my chance.”
O’Connor tilted his head to one side and studied me. “And that’s all this is about? The bad coke? Marcus refusing to toe the line yet again? Because I feel like there’s something you’re not telling me, Jackson. And I don’t have time for liars or people who think they can play me.”
It was time.
Time to seal my fate.
“You’re right; there is more.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Ana
I didn’t expect to find myself alone on Christmas Day. Maybe I was naïve to hold out hope that Jackson would come home and make things right between us. He was too lost in the sea of darkness surrounding him, trying to claim him and drag him under with its swell.
After spending an hour lying in bed, I’d finally succumbed to Oreo’s cries for milk and food, wrapped myself up in one of Jackson’s old hoodies, and dragged myself downstairs. There was no tree, no pile of
presents sitting ready to be tore open, and no turkey in the oven.
Nothing.
Christmas officially sucked.
The moving images on the small television blurred together. Oreo purred softly in his post-canned tuna feast slumber, and I wondered if I should have just gone back to Fort Pierce after all. Aunt Betsy hadn’t bothered to formally invite me this year; I think she had finally accepted that I would never be returning. It was one of the reasons I didn’t want to go back. They had finally let me go, so going back would only be difficult for all of us.
Around one, Sarah texted to wish me a Merry Christmas. Elena had texted first thing this morning. The huge princess cut diamond hugging her finger almost glistened off the screen. Tyson had popped the question in front of his family. I was just glad she had texted and not called. I wasn’t ready to hear her excitement, not in my current state of mind.
“Up, kitty.” I shooed Oreo off the couch and sat up, stretching my arms above my head.
I was still in Jackson’s hoodie, determined to feel close to him. I hadn’t allowed myself to think about him, about what he was doing. Of course, it only made me think about him more.
My stomach growled, informing me that I should probably eat. I was halfway across the room when something banged on the front door. I froze, my heart beating double time. The door banged again, and I cursed under my breath. Everyone I knew was out of town, which meant whoever was on the other side of the door was probably someone I didn’t want to see.
Tiptoeing backward until my back hit the wall, I pressed up against it and skirted to the window. Heavy net curtains covered the huge glass panels allowing me to sneak a look at the person standing on the porch.
I sighed with relief and hurried to open the door.
“What the hell, Dennis?”
“Merry Christmas to you, too. Can I come in or shall I leave?”
“No, no, come in. I’m just surprised to see you.”
He shuddered, the cold air lingering on him. “Trust me; no one’s more surprised than I am.”
I took his heavy coat and hung it on one of the pegs lining the small hallway. “What are you doing here? Today of all days?”
“Long story. Coffee, I need coffee, or beer, but I’m guessing I’m shit out of luck there.”
“No beer, sorry.”
He laughed, shaking flakes of snow from his hair. “Lead the way.”
Sitting across from Dennis, I saw a different side of him to the one he wore daily. At that moment, it was easy to see why Cassie had fallen for him.
“So, are we going to talk about the fact you’re here on Christmas Day instead of back home with your family?”
He shrugged, running his thumbs around the rim of his mug. “Families suck.”
“Seriously, that’s all I’m getting?”
“After a ten-hour drive, I thought he at least might give me a break, but I should have known better. The man is impossible. I never wanted to come to CFA, you know. I wanted to move to the East Coast.”
I shuffled in my seat and leaned forward on my elbows hoping this was the start of learning about the guy who was so closed off. “What happened?”
“Dad said I had to do what was right for the family. We’re small-time compared to the Donohues, but the old man likes to think he can run with the big boys.”
“So you’re only in Chastity Falls because of Marcus?”
“Something like that.”
“But now?”
“Jackson is my best friend and…” Dennis dropped his eyes away from me, and I was sure I’d caught a look of embarrassment on his face.
“And you met a girl.”
He placed his mug down and dragged one hand over his head, back and forth. “Isn’t that always how the story goes?”
“I was wondering when you were going to finally admit it.”
“I’m not a big talker, in case you haven’t noticed,” he shot back with a hint of amusement in his voice.
“Touché. You really like her, huh?”
“Cassie’s, well, she’s like no one else I’ve ever met. But I know it’s doomed.”
“Does it have to be like that?”
I knew it did, but the guy sitting in front of me, trusting me with his feelings, seemed so defeated that I wanted to offer him some hope. Even if it was just a dream.
“We’re from different worlds. Did you know she wants to move to California and teach grade school? I’m not cut out for that; I’m from the wrong side of the tracks. Besides, I’ve only known her for a few months.”
“Does she know how you feel?”
“What, that I’m not good enough for her?”
I shook my head. “No, that you’re in love with her.”
Dennis’s eyes grew wide, but he didn’t deny it. He didn’t say anything.
His pocket vibrated and Dennis retrieved his cell phone, scanning the screen. “It’s Jackson. He’s still in Seattle.”
I bit my lip and nodded. What was there to say? Dennis hit out a reply and slipped his cell back into his pocket.
“So, feel free to tell me to get lost, but can I take the sofa? The roads are iced right over, and I don’t want to total my truck.”
“Sure,” I said with a slight smile unsure whether I was relieved Dennis skimmed over Jackson’s text or pissed that he still wouldn’t tell me anything. “I’ll find some blankets, but first, you have to watch Four Christmases with me. That’s the deal.”
His laughter followed me into the living room.
One night turned into two, and Dennis was still here when the snow finally stopped falling and the ground started to thaw.
“You can probably make it back to campus now,” I hinted.
Dennis had been good company, but I was drained from having to bite my tongue every time his phone beeped or vibrated. I wanted answers. I wanted to know what the hell Jackson was still doing in Seattle. But he would never betray Jackson’s trust, even though he seemed to have no problem betraying mine.
My new roommate padded into the living room wrapped in just a towel, his cut abs and broad shoulders still damp from his shower. I clapped a hand over my eyes. “Dennis, what the hell? Your muscles are winking at me. Make it stop.”
He smirked. “My bad. I thought you were in your room.”
“Seriously, you need to go. This is getting too weird.”
He barked a laugh and I heard him pad out of the room. I called after him, “Don’t come back until you’re wearing layers. Layers, Dennis.”
Five minutes later, he appeared in the doorway in his coat with his small bag slung over one shoulder. “So, I’m taking that as my cue to leave. Thanks for putting me up, Ana. It’s been… well, it’s been weird as fuck.”
A small laugh spilled out of me and I wrapped my arms around my midriff, suddenly regretting my suggestion that it was time for him to leave.
“Listen, there’s no rush. You can st-”
A knock sounded at the door.
“Fuck,” Dennis mumbled, and there was another knock.
“What’s going on Dennis?” I asked, my senses on high alert. I could see the guilt written all over his face.
“I, hmm, well, shit, he just had to arrive early,” he said to himself.
“He?” My eyes flew to the front door. “Who’s out there, Dennis?”
“Listen, it’s not what you think.”
It was too late. I was already storming across the room and down the hallway. My hand gripped the handle and I yanked the door open. Jackson stood rigidly, his eyes slightly downcast and his hands buried in his coat. I glared at him and then back at Dennis, who was leaning against the doorjamb.
“You told him,” I seethed.
Dennis held his hands up and threw me an apologetic half smile. “For what it’s worth, I am sorry.”
“Save it,” I spat out, feelings of betrayal spreading through me.
Of course, I should have known Dennis would inform Jackson that I never made it to Fort Pierce.
How could I have been so stupid?
“Can I come in?” Jackson asked, and I stepped back against the wall to let him through, slamming the door shut behind me.
“You stayed here?” Jackson cocked his eyebrow at Dennis who held his hands up again. “Look man, I didn’t want to distract you, and she was here alone.”
“I’m right here.” Folding my arms across my chest, I stepped into the room and stood halfway between the two of them, but my statement went unheard.
“Actually, it works out in my favor. I want to talk to you both, together.”
I looked from Jackson to Dennis, who shrugged and moved to Sarah’s couch. I remained standing, still reeling from the events of the last few minutes.
“Ana, please.”
Without looking Jackson in the eye, I sat in the armchair. Jackson sat on the end of the couch, angling his body to face us both. “I’m sorry.”
The words just fell out of his mouth. Just like that. Like those two words would erase the last couple of weeks. The last few months.
“You’ve both tried to be there for me, and I’ve pushed you away. It wasn’t fair. You both deserve better.”
Dennis started to rise. “Whoa, man. I think this is my cue to bail. This is between the two of you. I’ll just-”
“Stay. This concerns you as well as Ana.”
Jackson glanced at me, but I dropped my eyes. Dennis sat back down, and I took a deep breath, readying myself for whatever was about to come.
The shock on Dennis’ face mirrored my own, as I sat gaping slightly at Jackson. He’d actually done it, and it hadn’t blown up in his face. I didn’t know whether to throw my arms around him and hug him tight or pound my fists into him until it hurt.
I'd known he was going to do something stupid, but what Jackson had just described went beyond stupid. It was a death wish… and he wasn’t out of the worst yet.
“Fuck, I can’t believe he bought it. Just like that.” Dennis stretched out his hands behind his head and leaned back into the couch.
