Oh. Oh, this was better even than I thought. She was going to sell Carter out.
“Okay, I’m listening.”
She shook her head. “It’s going to cost you.”
I licked my teeth, trying not to look too eager. Trying not to pump my fists in the air, do a victory lap around the bar. “How much?”
“Ten thousand,” she whispered, looking down at the bar, her fingers spread wide. Two of them were taped together and the dots connected in my head.
“That’s enough to get you out of the country,” I said.
She was silent, strung so tight she was about to snap, and while I didn’t enjoy her misery, I was real glad it had brought her to my door. Or bar, as it were.
“That’s a lot of money,” I said. It was going to wipe out my savings. But what was I saving it for, really?
“What I have to tell you will ruin his career,” she said, lifting burning eyes.
Oh, it was so sweet.
“Ten thousand,” I agreed, pushing away my glass of bourbon. “Now, what’s your story?”
17
CARTER
* * *
The roaring in my ears was the sound of my life coming down around me. Everything I’d worked for—law school, city council, Mayor Pro Tempore—it crashed and crumbled, obliterating itself into dust. Into nothing.
“This is an attack!” Amanda cried, pacing in front of the big windows of the mayor’s golden oak office. I sat in a vacuum, a million miles away from these people and these events.
But the ripped and torn sensation of betrayal I felt, I felt down to my bones. I could barely breathe.
Mayor Pro Tempore Lies in Court.
That was the headline this morning. Not nearly as catching as Deputy Deadbeat Daddy, but it got the job done.
“He names one source,” Amanda said. “One anonymous source. I can’t even believe they published such crap.”
“You need to get a statement together, and fast,” Ben Grovener said. Poor Ben, who just happened to be the right lawyer at the wrong time, had been sitting outside my office when the story broke.
“We can destroy Blackwell,” Amanda snarled. “No doubt about it, he paid someone. For sure he paid someone to tell this story.”
The story. With one anonymous source. One anonymous female source. This secret had been buried for ten years, and four days after I tell Zoe, this happens? I didn’t want to believe it, but could I believe anything else?
The roar in my ears was deafening. The pain in my chest made me sick.
The only other option was that my mother had betrayed me again, but how? And why now? She’d told me there was no angle. Unless it was money – but it would have to be big enough. No way Jim Blackwell had big money lying around to pay informants. It just didn’t make sense.
Which only left Zoe. Broke, about-to-have-a-baby Zoe.
Christ. Everywhere I turned it hurt. I breathed hard through my nose, trying to numb myself to this pain.
“With the right spin, you can control this,” Ben said. “But you need to act fast. Something aggressive, but that takes the high road. Carter?” Everyone in the room turned to me, waited for me to get to my feet and start fighting. Start giving out orders and putting together a plan. “Carter?” Ben asked, glancing quickly around the room and then back at me. “I know this is a shock, but we—”
“It’s true,” I said, my voice a broken rasp.
The mayor swiveled in his seat, shock clear on his face.
I looked right into my mentor’s eyes and gave up the fight. There was nowhere left to hide. “I lied in court to keep my mother out of jail. It doesn’t matter if Blackwell paid someone, or the source is anonymous. It’s true.”
“Oh, my God,” Amanda sighed, collapsing onto the stiff couch in the corner.
“I’m sorry,” I said, knowing how hard Amanda had worked on my behalf.
“You’ll be disbarred,” Ben said, and I nodded. “And the mayoral race—”
“It’s over,” I said. And it had been torn from me, just as I was beginning to taste the rest of my life. Sweet after a lifetime of sour.
I was light-headed with anger and pain.
“Well, Christ, son, if you’d told us we could have dealt with it,” Mayor Higgins said.
“How?” Amanda cried. “He lied. In court. To protect his criminal mother from further jail time. There’s no good way to spin this.”
“She’s right,” I said, the blunt truth of the situation pushing me into action. I turned all that anger I felt back on myself. Nobody had done this to me; I’d done it to myself. After all those years of worrying that my family would be my downfall, in the end it was just me and my mistakes. “I’m not going to confirm or deny the story. But I am going to withdraw from the primary.”
“You might as well just say it’s true,” Ben said. “That’s what everyone is going to think. And you’re still going to get disbarred.”
“I know,” I said. “But it gets me out of here faster.”
And out is what I needed. A thousand miles between me and Baton Rouge and Jim Blackwell and Zoe, was what I needed. I needed time to get myself under control and to think this all through, because right now I was scared of what I would say—how my pain might find its way free.
“I’m sorry,” I said for the last time. “It’s been a pleasure to work with you.” I glanced at Ben. “And it would have been a pleasure to work with you.”
And then I left, walking down the long hallway from the mayor’s office to my own office as mayor pro tempore for the very last time, as if I was marching to my death.
The chill I’d tried to purge from my veins, the cold I’d thought Zoe had thawed was back, but tenfold, encasing me in ice. I could barely walk, barely think past my anger. My self-disgust.
“Mr. O’Neill?” Gloria said, as I put my hand to the knob on my closed office door.
“What?” I snapped and she flinched.
God, I was sorry about that too. How many apologies, I thought, will make my life okay? How many times do I need to whip myself for what I’ve done? I’d paid my whole life for every decision I’d ever made and it clearly hadn’t been enough.
“Zoe Madison is in there—”
Ice filled my brain and my anger was frigid. My control complete. Zoe had distracted me from my diligent command over my life and secrets. She’d been the key that had unleashed everything.
Foolishly, I’d thought it was a good thing, that her affection and love was something that might heal me. Fix me.
But I was an O’Neill. And I was broken down to my DNA.
I pushed open the door and the sight of her jumping out of a chair, a copy of the paper crumbled up in her hands, was like an ice pick right to my heart.
It hurt to see her. To smell the spicy ginger cookie scent of her.
“Carter?” she cried, racing around the table. “Are you okay? I saw the paper and—”
“I’m fine.”
She stilled, her eyes wary, her fingers fumbling with the paper. “Fine?” she whispered. “But the paper…”
“What do you want me to say, Zoe? I’m going to be disbarred, I’m dropping out of the mayoral race and I’ve been disgraced on the front page of the paper. Again.” My phone buzzed and I scrolled down the list of e-mails I’d gotten in the past ten minutes. Endless. My career was going to go down in a barrage of e-mails.
“What are you doing?” she whispered, the pain like a wind blowing right out of her.
“Answering e-mails,” I said without looking at her.
“Put that away!” she snapped. “Talk to me!”
“I have work to do, Zoe.”
“Why are you acting like this?”
“Could you be more specific?”
“Like it doesn’t matter!” she cried. “Like you’re made out of ice.”
“You’ll have to forgive me,” I said, “I wasn’t aware there was a protocol.”
“Carter!” she cried, and slapped the phone out of my hand. It hit th
e wall and skidded across the carpet.
“That was unnecessary,” I said.
“Are you…are you mad at me? Do you think…”
“That you are the anonymous source?” My anger surged and my vision went black. “It had occurred to me. Seems a pretty incredible coincidence that I keep this secret for ten years and the week after I tell you it’s all over the paper. You sold me out once, Zoe, and your mother made it very clear that you’re broke. Information like this must come with a pretty attractive price tag.”
She gasped, swallowed hard as if she might throw up, and I just stared at her. Watched her like she was a stranger, and maybe she was. In the end, maybe we were all just strangers. Love, intimacy, family, they were shams, fake oases for the desperate. And oh, God, that had been me, hadn’t it? Desperate for someone to hold me, to listen to my secrets, to forgive me, my crimes.
Pathetic.
Suddenly, I felt sick.
“You don’t really believe that.”
And she was right. I didn’t. She didn’t sell me out. This had Mom written all over it. But it was the tool I’d use to push her away.
She reached out for me; her fingers, those hands I adored so much reached for me, and I stepped away, the idea of being touched unbearable. My life—the life that her touch had illuminated, brought into focus—was over. Shattered. “Your mother—”
Of course it was my mother.
I could strike out at Zoe all I wanted, but I knew, had always known, it couldn’t have been her. Could never have been her.
But my mother had all the practice in the world at breaking my life into pieces.
And now that I was clearheaded about it, the clues all fell into place. The broken fingers. The split lip. She’d sold me out to save herself—I should have seen it coming, but I’d been too drunk on Zoe, on love and trust and belonging to someone. Belonging with someone. God, what a disaster. My mother had been right, trust was only rewarded with pain. Well, not again. Never again would I be blindsided like this.
“It doesn’t matter.” That was the truth. Nothing mattered. The chill did its job and I was totally numb. “Nothing matters, Zoe. It was only a matter of time.”
“Please don’t freeze me out, Carter,” she whispered. This time I couldn’t brush off her hands, and they touched my face, blazes of heat against my skin. Her fingers stroked my lips, my cheeks, and it felt so good, so unbelievably good that I couldn’t push her away. “Why are you doing this to us? To what we have?”
“What we have?” I asked, my laughter a weapon I used against both of us. “We met a month ago. You stood on a chair and accused me of getting you pregnant. We went on a date and I got humiliated in front of the entire city, which frankly was a trend that continued. You are having a baby. I have no career and we—” I touched her chest and she flinched “—don’t have anything,” I finished.
She gasped and reeled back slightly before shaking her head, determination clear on her little elfin face. I should have known she would fight me. I should have known she would make this hard. “I don’t believe you,” she whispered.
“It doesn’t matter what you believe,” I said. “It’s over.”
“I could be there for you,” she said, her hands on my chest, tears in her beautiful eyes. “I could help.”
“I don’t need help.” I grabbed her hands in one of mine, lifting them from my chest. It was time to say goodbye and end this right now. I squeezed her wrists and gave them a little shake, ignoring the tears in her eyes, the quiver of her lip—all the terrible, terrible pain I was causing her. “I’m an O’Neill, and we take care of ourselves.”
ZOE
* * *
I left Carter’s office and tried hard not to run. I felt every eye on me and knew that they all thought that I was the anonymous source. Insane. Everyone was insane. The world had turned upside down. I’d gone to bed last night like I had every night since Thanksgiving, thinking about love and family, and I woke up this morning to find out how disposable I was.
My stomach lurched, and I detoured to the bathroom off the big marble foyer on the first floor.
I hadn’t thrown up since the eleventh week of my pregnancy, but now my stomach was in my throat. I pushed opened the door of the first stall so hard it bounced back against the metal frame and the bang rang out like a shotgun blast. My fingers shook as I shut the door behind me, fumbled with the metal clasp and finally just gave up, pressing my hot cheeks against the cool metal.
How had I been so wrong? So damn wrong?
My mother had been right. The only thing guaranteed was pain. I sank down on the toilet and stuffed my fist in my mouth so no one could hear me crying.
The week dragged behind me like deadweight. Every minute, even the good ones, were tests to endure. I’d thrown myself into my work for the academy, building my future, meeting by meeting. Handshake by handshake. Eric Lafayette had been wildly helpful, but the joy had barely registered. I was swaddled in cotton, insulated against every sensation. Even the pain had become a dull throb.
I punched the numbers into the lockbox outside the little storefront off St. Louis and pulled out the key.
Dusk fell in grey slabs through the windows and I turned on the lights. It was dusty and smallish. It needed paint and some water damage in the back corner had to be repaired.
But—I spun—mirrors along the west wall. A barre. Dressing rooms in the back. The price was right, thanks to a loan from the bank and Eric’s help. The neighborhood wasn’t great, but it was changing—
The front door clicked and the room’s pressure changed. My heart leaped into my throat; my hand flew to my Mace.
“Who’s there?” I yelled, scared half to death, but hoping in some stupid place in my heart that it was Carter.
“Sorry, sweetie.” Penny stepped in through the foyer, her red raincoat a smudge of color in the gray. “I hope I didn’t frighten you.”
I nearly blacked out with relief. I sagged against a cement pillar.
“Jeez, Mom, you could have called or something. How did you know where I was?”
“Phillip,” she said, looking down at her fingers before tucking them into her pockets. “He does a good job of keeping tabs on you.”
I hadn’t talked to my mother since Thanksgiving, though Penny had called after Carter had resigned from his job. I hadn’t answered, not ready to swallow my mother’s righteousness.
“Well, you found me,” I said. “What do you think?”
Penny looked around. “Is this for the academy? It’s such a big step. Can you afford—” Penny stopped mid-sentence and I fumed, wondering if my mother was ever going to change. Was ever going to treat me like an adult. “I’m sorry,” Penny said, and I held my breath, getting the sense that my mother was apologizing for more than just that comment.
“I’m sorry for the way I’ve acted, and the way I reacted to your baby. I think that in all my fear for you, I never once told you how excited I am. And what a good mother I think you’ll be.”
“Thank you,” I breathed, flattered beyond measure.
“About Carter—”
“You can say I told you so, if you want,” I said, my heart so tired and sore I couldn’t even say his name. “You were right. He’s left.”
“I’m not here to say I told you so,” Penny said. “I’m not here to make this pain worse.”
To my utter amazement, Penny’s eyes filled with tears. “You’re so brave, Zoe. So much braver than me.”
I stepped forward and reached for my mother’s hands. “That’s not true, Mom. You were twenty-three. A kid—”
Penny shook her head. “I’m not talking about being a mother. I’m talking about…” she sighed heavily. “I don’t know, being a woman. Being a lover or a girlfriend. You throw your heart around like it can’t be broken. You’ve always done that.”
I rested my head against my mother’s shoulder. My broken heart pounded and throbbed in my chest, proving what a reckless mistake that had been.<
br />
“I had relationships, you know,” Mom said, and I lifted my head, slightly scandalized.
“What?”
“Boyfriends over the years. I just never cared enough about any of them to bring them home to you. Or maybe I just cared so much about you…” she stopped. “Either way, I think…now, I think that was a mistake. I should have opened our world, even if there had been some pain involved.”
“No, Mom, you were right. This pain…” I touched my chest, rubbed at the sore spot as if it might help. “Nothing is worth this pain. I thought I would never regret what Carter and I had, but I was wrong. I wish I’d never stood on that damn chair.”
“Oh, honey,” Penny said and she folded me in a tight hug, and I was ready to go back to that world. The world of the two of us, insulated against everybody else. And my mom could make that happen. Things were safe with my mom; no one got in and no one got hurt.
“You don’t mean that,” Penny said.
“I do, Mom. I do. Carter…that was a mistake.”
Penny blinked and stroked my face. “No, honey, a mistake is not trying. A mistake is never opening the door to the possibility of love. Don’t let this pain change you like it changed me.”
My phone buzzed in the pocket of my raincoat and I fished it out, my heart hammering hard in my chest. Sure, I could talk a good game about regretting Carter, but I wished it was him on that phone. Longed to hear his voice.
“Hello?” I said.
“Zoe, sorry to bother you, but this is Savannah Woods…O’Neill. This is Carter’s sister.”
“Savannah, hi,” I said, surprised. “How did you get this number?”
“I’m so sorry. This is illegal in a bunch of different ways I’m sure, but my sister-in-law has friends in law enforcement and I would never have done this, but we’re having an emergency.”
“Emergency? Are you okay?”
“Fine. But we can’t find Carter.”
18
ZOE
* * *
The Saint Page 18
