Chasing Serenity

by Ashley, Kristen

  “When you first heard, you completely blanked out,” she reminded him.

  “I was shocked. It’s not every day someone calls and tells you your junkie mother overdosed and she’s dead.”

  “Judge,” she whispered, part rebuke at his callous phrasing, part surprise he’d phrase it that way.

  “Babe, you’ll get it when you get there. How messed up it all is. But really, now that I’m over the shock, I realize it isn’t a shock at all. And I’m good.”

  She didn’t say anything for a few seconds before she asked, “Do you have a suit?”

  “Yeah.”

  She nodded, moved to her nightstand and tagged her phone, probably to call Sasha, her mom, or Mi.

  Judge decided to give Rix ten more minutes to sleep and went back to packing.

  * * *

  Another thing Judge was going to remember his entire life.

  Being behind Chloe as she emerged from his father’s private jet.

  She did this sliding on her sunglasses, tucking her bag under her arm, then gracefully reaching a hand for the railing to the steps.

  The wind was whipping her hair around her head, pressing her black button-up shirt to her torso. The bottom half of her was covered in pink trousers that had a sheen to them. They were cuffed at the ankle. Black belt, black pumps.

  Black shades.

  She was top to toe cool, and glancing beyond her as he emerged behind her, he saw his father on the tarmac, and he didn’t miss an inch of all that made Chloe Pierce.

  Jamie was wearing sunglasses too.

  Even so, Judge saw the approval was immediate.

  Completely unsurprising.

  When he made it to his dad, Jamie pulled him into a hug.

  Jameson Oakley gave him his height, something Judge’s granddad didn’t give to his son. That came from Judge’s grandmother, who had been as tall and cool as Chloe, just fair.

  No, AJ Oakley was a stout bulldog of a man who told everyone he was five ten when he was barely five eight.

  Though, since he was always wearing a cowboy hat, no one would know.

  “Shitty circumstances, but good to see you,” Jamie muttered in his ear.

  “Yeah,” Judge replied, pulled away and claimed Chloe.

  “Dad, Chloe Pierce. My girl.”

  She put out her hand and Jamie took it. “Mr. Oakley, nice to meet you.”

  “Jamie, darlin’,” his dad replied.

  Even if the man had lived in New York City for three decades, that Texan drawl hadn’t quite disappeared.

  “Jamie,” she allowed, taking her hand back, tucking some blowing hair behind her ear, and standing strong with her other arm around Judge.

  “Rix, man, pleased to hear you could come,” Jamie greeted Rix, giving him a handshake and pounding him on the shoulder with his other hand.

  This was something Jamie knew beforehand since Chloe had programmed his number into her phone, and along the way, had kept him abreast of their travel plans.

  “Jamie,” Rix replied.

  His dad turned to Judge. “Right, got you all a car. We’ve got suites at the Rosewood. Do you want to get settled in or…head out and maybe see your mom?”

  “Do you have your own car or a driver?” he asked back.

  “A driver for now. But—”

  Judge didn’t let him finish, he encompassed Chloe and Rix with the same look. “You two go with Dad to the hotel. I’ll go out to Lucas and start looking into shit.”

  Lucas being his hometown.

  Or the one he grew up in. It was a great place with great people and he still had friends there.

  But it was never really home.

  To his command, he got two versions of the same answer.

  A low, “No,” from Rix.

  A sharp, “I don’t think so,” from Chloe.

  But Chloe took it further.

  Turning to his dad, she said, “We’ll check in and settle in. Judge needs food. And then, will you come with us to the funeral home?”

  “Of course,” Jamie murmured, watching her closely now.

  “Babe—” Judge started.

  “Shush,” she shushed him without even looking at him. Her attention was still on his father because she wasn’t done with him. “I’d like to know where AJ Oakley is right now.”

  Jamie shifted, and Judge saw it.

  She had his approval on sight.

  She had his attention when she got bossy.

  He was understanding right now she’d have his admiration in about thirty more seconds.

  “He’s aware this has happened, but I can’t say where he is right now.”

  “We know he’s aware,” Chloe retorted. “He’s called Judge no less than fifteen times since you phoned, seemingly incapable of understanding Judge knows he’s calling because his name comes up on the screen, but he doesn’t want to talk to him, which is why Judge hasn’t picked up. I assume you’re going through your own emotions right now, but someone needs to tell that man to back down. When and if Judge wants to see him, that’s Judge’s decision. It always is, but now, it definitely is. So who’s going to share this with him? You? Or me?”

  Rix moved and Judge looked to him to see he’d slightly turned his upper body away, but fully turned his head.

  Probably so no one would see him laughing at this appropriate but still inappropriate moment.

  “Although I would very much like to witness your end of a phone call with my father, I’ll take care of that,” Jamie told her.

  “Fine,” she said tersely, glancing away and noting the staff were bringing their bags. “Then let’s move this along.” She tipped her head back to Judge. “And you’re eating, chéri.”

  “Whatever you say, General.”

  Her lips pursed in annoyance.

  He bent and kissed them.

  She allowed this, but when he lifted away, she was right back to his father. “He refused breakfast and wouldn’t eat anything on the plane. Fortunately, Rix was there, and he kept the attendants busy servicing his every need.”

  Jamie made a pained noise as her meaning wasn’t even close to veiled, a noise very similar to the one Judge made as he swallowed laughter.

  Rix entered the conversation. “Uh, excuse me, but that was private.”

  “If you wanted it to be private, you shouldn’t have been so loud,” Chloe shot back.

  Rix shrugged. “She was pretty.”

  “Does the level of their attractiveness correlate with the level of your racket?”

  “Well…yeah,” he replied.

  “You are not to be believed,” she retorted.

  Rix grinned.

  She clicked her teeth then turned back to Judge. “Are you okay to drive?”

  “My mom died, I didn’t.”

  The hilarity he knew she’d forced, and Rix had played along with to elevate the mood, evaporated.

  “I think I want Rix driving anyway,” she said gently.

  “I know Dallas, he doesn’t.”

  “He can hear fine, so he’ll follow directions.”

  “Whatever,” he said, then to his dad. “Keys?”

  “The fob is in the car.”

  And the car was a Jaguar SUV into which Jamie’s airplane staff were currently loading Rix’s chair.

  “You’re shotgun,” he told Chloe.

  “You should sit up front to direct Rix.”

  “He can hear fine, baby, if I’m up front or in the back. You…are…shotgun.”

  She nodded immediately.

  With nothing further, Judge moved to the car.

  His woman and friend followed him.

  His father, though, stood and watched.

  * * *

  Judge was unsurprised that the suite they were given had two bedrooms, one off each end of a large living room area that also had a four-seater table and massive bar.

  Chloe undoubtedly advised his dad that the accommodations needed to be such that Rix wasn’t too far.

  She was totall
y overreacting, but this was her gig. It gave her something to do. Something to turn her mind to. Something that made her feel better.

  And Judge was all for that.

  They were barely in with their bags before there was a knock on the door.

  Judge stood back and wondered, as they both moved quickly to the door, if Rix and Chloe would duke it out as to who would get to open it.

  Rix glowered down at her and won the Protect Judge Battle.

  At least this round.

  Chloe stepped back.

  Rix opened the door.

  “Hey,” a woman’s voice said, “you’re Rix.”

  “I know,” Rix replied.

  But Judge knew that voice and called, “Come in, Dru.”

  She came in, her eyes darting around the room quickly, but coming to a rest on Judge, her mother’s flame red hair startling him, like it always did, before it settled in how damned pretty it was, and she was.

  She moved his way, and when she got close, only asked, “Okay?”

  He opened his arms.

  She fell into them, hers wrapping around and holding tight.

  Something happened in his throat, so he cleared it.

  “If you don’t want me here, I’ll take off,” she said to his chest. “I get it. I totally do. But I wanted to be close to Dad.”

  “You’re family, doll,” he murmured. “Of course you need to be here.”

  She held tighter.

  “That’s Judge’s sister,” he heard his father say, obviously he’d come with her. “Dru.”

  “Hmm,” was all he heard from Chloe, so he looked her way.

  She had her arms crossed on her chest and was assessing this situation, but he could see she was leaning toward complete acceptance of Drusilla Lynch.

  “My girlfriend is about to force feed me,” he lied to Dru.

  She tipped her head back to look up at him, her brows inching together.

  “You hungry?” he asked.

  “If you’re not hungry, you shouldn’t eat,” she advised.

  “Wrong,” Chloe called.

  Judge kept his arm around Dru’s shoulders, so she kept one around his waist as she turned to the sound of Chloe’s voice.

  It kept coming.

  “Hello, I’m Chloe, and you’re extraordinary. Your hair very well may be the meaning of life. And that hug was incredibly sweet. But Judge needs food. Even if it’s something light.”

  “I’m on it.”

  That was Rix and he was, considering he was at the phone with the room service menu open.

  But Dru was staring at Chloe.

  “She doesn’t bite,” anyone but me, “promise,” he told his sister.

  “Are you sure?” Dru stage whispered.

  Chloe’s lips twitched.

  “I’m sure,” he answered.

  “Yeah, we’ll have the cobb salad, extra plates, two turkey clubs, cut each of those into four pieces, two Reubens, again cut into quarters, three orders of truffle fries and,” he stopped, looked around the room, and finished, “two pecan tortes, two praline cheesecakes and two flourless chocolate cakes. With a ton of forks.”

  So much for light.

  Judge’s attention moved from Rix to Chloe, to see her gazing with approval at their friend.

  Dru rested some of her weight into his side.

  He squeezed her shoulders and caught his father staring at them with a look on his face that Judge quickly turned away from.

  And the gang was all there.

  Checked in.

  Key cards in hand.

  Rental with the valet.

  Judge had a mental checklist of what needed to get done. It’d probably take a couple of days to do all of it. But those were three things he ticked off the list.

  Next, eat.

  Then get on it.

  Lay his mother to rest.

  So they could all get the fuck out of there.

  * * *

  Judge went in to see her alone.

  He did this because he didn’t know what state she’d be in, and if Chloe saw her at all, he didn’t want her to see his mother looking like shit.

  She didn’t.

  She’d been cleaned up and put in a casket probably one of Jamie’s assistants selected, but he knew his father had a hand in it.

  It was an iridescent blue.

  Her favorite color.

  She looked like her, except dead.

  And a lot more tranquil than he’d ever seen her, even if she was passed out.

  He didn’t take long with her, but he did tick finding a funeral home and dealing with the casket choice off his mental list.

  He should have known his father would get things in hand.

  As he walked out, in the short hall outside the small, private viewing room, he ran into that same man.

  “All right?” Jamie asked.

  “Have you seen her?”

  Jamie looked beyond him to the door Judge had just cleared.

  Like his dad, Judge got his grandmother’s height. Judge also got her brown eyes.

  His mother’s were a light gray-blue.

  His father’s were a clear sky blue.

  Now, those sky-blue eyes were troubled.

  “No,” Jamie answered.

  That one word was rough.

  Damn.

  “Do you want to see her?” he asked quietly.

  Jamie turned his gaze to Judge. “You go on out with the oth—”

  “I’ll go with you if you want to see her, Dad. We should…as insane as it all was, if you strip away the shit parts of it, us being together is all she ever wanted.”

  Jamie studied him. Nodded. Then took in a visible breath.

  Judge clapped him on the shoulder, turned around and opened the door, leading them through.

  The room was small. There were two enormous sprays of gladiolas behind the casket. A good choice, neutral cream that would go with anything put before it. A short bench sat against one wall and two chairs rested a few feet from the front of the casket. Places to sit and reflect with room to stand and gaze.

  As it had been when he left it, the door to the casket was up, and you could see her lying there.

  Judge flinched slightly at something he hadn’t noticed before.

  The inch and a half of gray roots in her hair before the faded red-blonde she got from God in her youth, a bottle later in life, started.

  Even constantly wasted, in one way or another, she’d always managed to retain beauty.

  “Good genes, buckaroo,” she’d say, pointing to her face…

  Or his.

  Judge wondered when the last time was his father had seen her.

  He also wondered what kind of blow this was, both the women Jameson Oakley loved dying before they even got close to the age of sixty.

  They moved to stand at the casket, Judge positioning so he could see his father and keep a finger on that pulse.

  Jamie didn’t look away from Belinda.

  Then, abruptly, his dad said, “She didn’t want to come to New York.”

  Oh shit.

  “Dad—”

  His father’s eyes were tormented when they looked to his son. “She was a Texas girl through and through. Dirt under her feet. Wide open spaces. She was a force here. New York made her feel small.”

  “It isn’t your fault.”

  Jamie looked back down at Belinda Oakley. “You love her?”

  Judge was confused. “Who? Mom?”

  His gaze rose again to Judge. “No. Chloe.”

  “Yes,” he stated with zero hesitation.

  “Then get ready, son, because you will take on every hurt she feels. Every bump she sustains. Every blow that lands. When she’s sick, you’ll feel ten times sicker that you can’t heal her. When she’s sad, it’ll feel like torture that you can’t move a mountain to make her happy again.”

  Judge stood still, staring at his father, not only because Jamie knew what he was saying, and he knew it down to the depths of his so
ul, the agony was written all over his face, and Judge felt that agony with his father.

  But also because Judge knew he was right.

  Judge couldn’t even hack Chloe bowing her head with the upset of dealing with her sister. He’d made her gain her feet and her equilibrium.

  He couldn’t imagine enduring any of what his dad had endured.

  “I know it wasn’t my fault,” his father continued. “But it will never stop feeling that way.”

  “I want us to be closer.”

  It just came out.

  And Judge knew in that instant it did because it needed to.

  And it was a long time coming.

  Jamie’s head jerked. “Pardon?”

  “I want us to be closer, and I want to be closer to Dru. I love my job, Dad, and I’m ready for more, but it will be in that same field. It’s who I am. It’s what I do. I’m good at it. I’ll want to contribute to a life that makes Chloe happy, and I just want more for myself, so I’ll need to make money for me, for her, for us, for the family we’ll eventually make. But you need to get over it, and when I say that, I mean you really do. Because if you don’t, Chloe will make that happen. And trust me, you don’t want to go there.”

  Jamie’s mouth quirked and he nodded. “I’m sensing that about your girl.”

  “She’s close to her family,” Judge carried on like Jamie didn’t speak, getting it out because it had to be said. “We have dinner with her mom or dad all the time. I want that. I want to give you to her. And I want you for myself.”

  Jamie visibly swallowed before he remarked, “It’s my understanding she’s Tom and Imogen’s daughter.”

  Judge knew what he was saying.

  “She has a nest egg they’ve given her, but she’s ambitious. She’ll make her own way. There’s what we do to feed our own needs, but it all comes together in the middle, which will be us. I’m not saying I need to support her. I don’t have to support her. But I do. And I will. Do you get that?”

  Jamie nodded again.

  “Doing this, with her here,” he dipped his chin to his mom, “I’m not being a dick. She fought you because she never stopped loving you. If she didn’t give a shit, she wouldn’t have given a shit. But I got done a long time ago with my life being about her and her choices. I hope wherever she is, she wants me to have what I want. I hope when she was around, some part of her she didn’t let show wanted that too. And she knew, deep down, I always wanted to be with my dad.”