Depraved (The Devil's Duet Book 1)

by Eva Charles

  I need Gabrielle. She’s the equivalent of a shot of bourbon, only tastier, and more settling. But that’ll have to wait until tonight.

  The conversation with my father has left me unhinged. I don’t trust the bastard, and I don’t want to be too far from Sweetgrass this evening. Gabrielle’s been hounding me to see Zack. Maybe tonight. Maybe.

  20

  Julian

  I’m kicking myself for promising Gabrielle we’d see Zack tonight. I’ve kept him sheltered for so long now that the idea of bringing in a stranger, even though she’s not really a stranger, has been gnawing at my gut all day. Sure, I can still say no, and if it were anyone else, I would say no. But it’s her, and I don’t want to go back on my promise. Besides, if I can get past the pain in my stomach, I know having someone else, a good person, visit him, is a positive thing.

  Gabrielle’s security team brings her to Sweetgrass at six forty-five. I wave them off at the door. “She’s fine here with me. I’ll call you when she’s ready to leave.”

  I brush my mouth over hers. It’s a quick hello, and I want more. So much more. “It’s good to see you haven’t chased off the security detail, yet. How did it go today?”

  “A whole team, just for me,” she says, pinning me with her eyes. “Seems excessive.”

  “They need to rotate to stay fresh. And you’ll be happier if you’re with the same people day in and day out.”

  “I’ll be happier when security shadowing me is nothing more than a bad dream.”

  “You’ll get used to it.”

  “When do we need to leave to see Zack? It’s six-fifty.”

  The gnawing in my stomach becomes heartburn. “We’re good on time.” I take her hand and lead her toward the back of the house.

  “JD, isn’t the garage on the other side of the house?”

  “Yep.”

  “What are you doing? We don’t have time to—”

  I squeeze her fingers. “You ask a lot of questions. Now let me ask a couple. Have you showered recently? Put on clean clothes?”

  “Excuse me?”

  “I’m not asking for me. I like you dirty. But the weather’s changing, and it might be hard for Zack to recover if he catches a bug. We’re more careful about introducing new people and germs at this time of year.” I should have mentioned it earlier, but I’m not used to bringing anyone to see him who doesn’t know the drill.

  She doesn’t say anything, so I keep rambling like an idiot. “You can shower upstairs if you need to, and slip on a paper gown over your clothes.”

  “JD?” I stop in my tracks, and gaze at her. She’s smiling at me. A small, soft smile, with a twinge of melancholy. Her eyes are soft like melted chocolate. “You’re jumpy. If tonight isn’t a good night, we can see Zack another time. I’ll be disappointed, but I’ll understand. Just do what you think is best for him, and don’t worry about me.”

  Right then, I knew what was best for my brother. I wasn’t bringing her there to curry favor, or to share an important piece of myself with her, although there was that too, but I want Zack to feel her kindness and sweetness again. If he can find comfort with anyone, it will be with her. He adored her. “Zack will be happy to see you.”

  She squeezes my arm. “I showered right before I came over, even washed my hair. And these clothes are clean.”

  “Then let’s go.” I open the heavy double doors that lead to the back wing of the house. Only a few people, beside my brothers, are allowed in this part of the house. And now, Gabrielle.

  Sumter takes one look at her and blocks the doorway. No one’s getting in here on his watch, especially not the pain in the ass reporter who phoned me three times today. I run a hand over his head and tell him to go lay down.

  “Protecting Zack has become his job. He takes it seriously,” I tell her.

  When we enter the room, her eyes flit from corner to corner before they land on Zack. It’s a spacious room with lots of windows. I had a large sliding door installed so that it would be easier to take him out for walks. But Zack’s weak, so we don’t do that very often anymore. The room is more functional than beautiful, but it’s so much better than where my father had him holed up.

  I introduce Gabrielle to Maureen, Zack’s nurse, and wash my hands. She washes her hands too, and peeks up at me while she dries them. “He lives here,” she sputters. “With you.”

  “Yep.”

  “JD,” she whispers, drawing in a breath, and brushing past me on her way to the special chair where my brother’s resting. “Zack,” she says softly, taking his hand. “It’s Gabby.” She lowers herself into a chair beside his, never letting go of his hand.

  I grab a toy from the basket near the door and play a little tug-of-war with Sumter. I want to give her a little time with him.

  She talks sweetly to Zack, as though he can understand every word she says, just like I knew she would.

  Gabrielle was the one who forced me visit Zack when he came home after the accident.

  He seemed to recognize us then, but all he did was grunt and flail. Chase dragged his pillow and blanket in every night and slept on the floor beside his twin. Eventually the nurse insisted my father put a bed in there for him. Gray was afraid of Zack. And the truth is, so was I. Well maybe not exactly afraid, but sickened, and repelled by the thing that had taken over my brother’s body. It embarrasses me now to think about how I felt back then.

  Gabrielle was never afraid of him. Never sickened or repelled. She’s better than that. She’d go in all the time and hold Zack’s hand while he pulled at her hair and drooled. She quietly shamed me into finding my balls. Chase, too. There was no way I was letting a little kid and a girl be braver than me. I learned to go in a little at a time, to visit every day, until my father decided it was too inconvenient to have Zack at home. Until my father decided that Zack would be better off dead.

  “You should tell him about The Gatehouse. I bet he’d like to hear about it. Wouldn’t you, Zack?”

  Her voice is cheery as she talks about the hotel. “I bought the building from the city for a dollar. Can you imagine that? It had good bones, but it needed a lot of sprucing up.

  “My mom and dad, and Lally helped with some of the work. And Gray helped too. He didn’t actually do any work. You know Gray," she laughs. "But he taught me a lot about restaurants and introduced me to some important people. Gray still knows everyone, and everyone knows him. Do you remember Georgina? She works at the hotel too. It’s really special to be able to work with my best friend.”

  I close my eyes for a minute, and I see a little girl sitting on the piazza steps, chattering incessantly while she blows big soapy bubbles for Zack and Chase to run after. Occasionally one lands on their chubby hands before it pops. They ohhh and ahhh, squealing like she spins gold.

  I listen attentively while she tells Zack about jelly candies, and designer sheets, and dozens of other small details I don’t know anything about. “The biggest surprise was in the basement,” she tells him. “We discovered a half-dozen gates hidden under a pile of rubble. Beautiful iron gates. Philip Simmon’s originals. You know, he’s the man who made those intricate gates all over Charleston. Even if he didn’t make the ones we found in the basement, they’re beautiful reproductions. That’s why I named the hotel The Gatehouse.”

  Gabrielle beams while she talks about the hotel. Her voice is light and filled with joy and pride. For a few minutes, I let myself bask in her happiness. I take solace in making her leave Wildwood before my father could get his clutches into her. It was her home, just like it had been my home. It hurt her to be sent away. I hurt her. But he would have destroyed her whole life had she stayed.

  I want to ask her some questions about the hotel. I want to know more about the jelly candies, the honor bar, and Frette sheets. But I’m afraid if I speak, I’ll spoil the magic, so I keep my mouth shut and my focus on Sumter as I try to catch the bubbles floating in the room.

  The hour passes and the nurse returns.

 
; “It’s time to say good night,” I tell her. She smiles at me, and it’s not just her mouth and her eyes that engage. It’s her entire body. At least that’s how it seems. Like she used to. Like I’m something more than a huge asshole come to ruin her life.

  I smile back at her, holding her gaze for as long as I can. Hoping to capture the moment, the feeling, so when she’s gone, I’ll have something to keep me warm at night.

  I would have gazed at her forever, but she turns to Zack.

  “Now that I know how close you are, I’m coming back to see you,” she tells him. “Soon.” Gabrielle presses her lips to his forehead. “Good night, Zackie. Love you bunches.”

  Something squeezes in my chest, reminding me that somewhere inside, my heart still beats. “Give me a minute.”

  She nods, and says goodbye to Maureen.

  I help Maureen get Zack back into his bed for the night. Zack has two full-time nurses who rotate schedules, Maureen and Sue. During the day there’s a physical therapist and a male nurse’s aide to help, too. Maureen’s in her late-forties. She’s competent as hell, and kind. I trust her to be alone with him.

  Saying good night to Zack is always bittersweet. He’s frail, and I’m never sure when good night will be goodbye. But the prospect of walking out of his room tonight doesn’t seem as lonely with Gabrielle here.

  Before I go, I smooth the little wisps of hair on his head. “It was nice having Gabby visit, wasn’t it? She’s a welcome change from my ugly face, that’s for sure. Tomorrow we’ll finish reading about the dragons on Ponteluna Mountain. I love you.” I squeeze his hand and kiss his head much the same way Gabrielle did. “Good night, Zack. Sweet dreams.”

  It’s been years since I overheard the first of many conversations between my father and Olsen about the accident. Just bits and pieces, some of it puzzling, and the rest devastating. It was as though he didn’t care they were dead. Or maybe, he even had something to do with the car careening off the road.

  I eavesdropped on their conversations as often as I could, but that night was the most gut-wrenching of all. That night, a piece of my soul crumbled. That night, I stopped being a kid.

  After I left them, I went straight to Zack’s room, and kicked everyone out. I was too afraid to confront my father. Too afraid he’d kill me too. And I was ashamed. Ashamed for being a coward. More ashamed than I had ever been in life. I sat at the foot of Zack’s bed, my knees tucked under my chin, and cried fat, angry tears. Lots of them. I promised DW would pay. That everyone involved would pay.

  It was the last time I shed a tear.

  It’s taken a lot of years and heartache to get to this point. Lots of dead ends, and loose threads that gave me hope, but amounted to nothing more than a collection of disappointments. I pulled dozens of those threads, chased every clue that seemed even the slightest bit promising, but nothing ever materialized into anything concrete.

  But I have access to Sayle now, and deep down, I’ve always known the answers to the accident are there.

  Sayle is the prize. Always has been. But the only way DW could have gotten his grubby hands on it was if something happened to my mother while my siblings and I were minors. Although there’s more to it than just that. Has to be. I just don’t know what it is yet.

  The answers are there. I’m not sure where they’re hidden, but they’re there. They have to be, because I’ve looked everywhere else, and I will not accept failure in this regard. I will avenge my mother’s death and Sera’s. I will exact retribution for Zack, and for Chase who was in that car with them. And for Gray, too.

  I might not live to enjoy it, but that sonofabitch will pay.

  21

  Gabrielle

  I wait outside the room for JD, catching the sweet way he says good night to Zack. JD, you are the most aggravating man on the planet. You haven’t changed. Not one bit. You have a hard, tough shell on the outside for everyone to see, but all the goodness is on the inside. So much goodness. Don’t you dare tell me otherwise, because I just saw your heart.

  Before JD comes out, he has a brief conversation with Maureen, something about the change of shifts and additional supplies.

  I watch him walk toward me. He’s moving slower than usual. There’s no swagger in his gait. Letting me visit with Zack was a huge step for him. I realized it right before we went into the room.

  I’m bursting with emotion, and I have so many questions. But he’s raw. I can see it, and I need to be careful with him. I want to be careful.

  He beckons with his head for me to follow, and we walk halfway to the kitchen in silence.

  “You take such good care of him,” I say. “In just the short time we were there, I can tell. I’m not surprised.”

  “I don’t do anything. Just arrange for caretakers.”

  I place my hand on his arm. “Don’t. Please don’t.”

  “You hungry?” he asks, pulling away from my touch.

  “Will you tell me how he came to be here? I can’t believe your father allows it.”

  “My father didn’t have a choice.”

  “How could that be? Zack’s his son.”

  JD shrugs. “It’s not that complicated. My father locked him in an inferior facility and didn’t authorize the care that might have helped him. By the time I was old enough and strong enough to take a stand against him, it was already too late for Zack, but I intervened to slow the downhill slide. DW’s a cold-blooded sonofabitch, but my blood runs just as cold. And at the time, I had nothing to lose from suing for custody.” He glances at me, his eyes glazed. “When you’ve got nothing to lose, you can accomplish almost anything.”

  I’m having a difficult time following the details. Maybe it’s because JD is half mumbling, and half cryptic. Or maybe because it’s so much to take in. “You were awarded custody?”

  “When it became clear I wasn’t backing down, DW signed over custody. He’d been negligent for years. It would have been difficult—maybe impossible to prove, but he couldn’t take the risk of a big, ugly scandal. My guess is he was already eyeing the presidency then. He hated signing over custody to me, but it was his best choice.”

  My heart is heavy, and I’d like to wring DW’s neck myself for what he did to Zack—and to JD. And I’m sure this is only the tip of the iceberg. Lally always said after their mother died, the Wilder boys were left impoverished. I never fully understood what she meant by it until now.

  “Does your father come by to see Zack?”

  He shakes his head. “He never visited Zack the entire time he was locked away. Not once. He’s not welcome at Sweetgrass. If I see him on the property, I’ll shoot him.”

  His voice is mean and dispassionate, and none of it sounds like bluster. Not that JD has ever been much for bluster. My skin is prickly. He’s not kidding. “If I didn’t know better—” I hold onto the wall for support. “You sound like you’d actually kill him.”

  He doesn’t bother to deny it.

  “Let’s see what Lally left to eat,” he says, heading toward the stove.

  I don’t say anything. But something gnaws at me. If DW finds an unfortunate ending, God forgive me, so be it. But I don’t want blood on JD’s hands—not his father’s, not anyone’s. I can’t let it go. “You wouldn’t really kill your father, right? Aside from turning my ass pink, you don’t get to dole out punishment. That’s what we have laws and courts for. And ultimately, it’s God’s purview.”

  “The law and the courts are in his back pocket. Especially now that he’s been elected president. I don’t think you need me to remind you how I feel about God.”

  JD pulls a couple dishes from a warming plate below the oven. “Looks like Lally prepared some pulled pork and macaroni and cheese. The woman’s going to give me a heart attack one of these days from all the cholesterol she feeds me.” He sniffs the pork, and grins at me. “But what a way to go.”

  He’s not going to answer my question. I guess that’s its own answer. We will revisit this before I leave, JD. Maybe you�
��ll be more forthcoming with your belly full. “Lally’s never been big on greens unless they’ve been rolled around in lard,” I tell him. “This note says there’s slaw in the fridge.”

  “You still like your barbeque tangy?” he asks.

  “Of course. Who eats that sweet slop?”

  After dinner, I help JD tidy up the kitchen. “You can have the plane tomorrow night to visit your parents, or Saturday morning, if it’s better for you. I don’t need it this weekend.”

  “Thank you. Saturday would be great.” He’s been true to his word about making the visits easy for me. It wouldn’t surprise me if he gave up the plane once or twice when he did want to use it. Nothing about him surprises me anymore. “Then I can be at the hotel tomorrow night. It saves some money, and I don’t have to impose too much on Georgina. She never says no, but she’s seven months pregnant now.”

  “I’ll have Patrick get in touch with you about the details in the morning. Is Georgina having a boy or a girl? Do they know?”

  I wish Georgie could be as comfortable talking about JD as he is talking about her. We’ve been friends forever, and I hate keeping my life so compartmentalized. “A girl. We have big plans for spoiling her rotten.”

  “Poor Wade. He’ll be outnumbered. It’s all downhill from there.”

  I whack his arm. “What do you know about having daughters?”

  “Nothing. Not a damn thing, and I plan on keeping it that way.”

  Hmmm. He always wanted kids. I wonder what changed. Maybe it’s just daughters. “You don’t want a family?”

  “When I took over this place, I imagined having a family. Most people see that kind of life for themselves.” He takes some plates from the dishrack and stacks them on a glass shelf inside the cupboard. Then he shuts the door so cautiously the click is unperceivable. “But I don’t see it anymore. I’ll call your security detail so you can get home before it gets too late.” He glances at me. “What’s wrong?”