by Ellie Danes
I didn’t expect this.
“Well, we’ll talk to your counselor and see what we can do about it,” I said. “In the meantime, just don’t listen to what anyone has to say to you.”
She nodded and fell against me. “Yeah, I’m actually pretty sleepy,” she laughed.
It was weird, really. I wasn’t sure if she was fucking with me or not. Was that really all she wanted? Just to talk? Just to tell me about the “bitch” that “assaulted her arms” and called her a “psycho”? Was that the whole reason she was mad at me?
I knew that it wasn’t. She was upset that I was leaving.
She understood why I had to go — I knew that she did — but she was also still a teenager. And not only was she a teenager, she was a teenager with a personality disorder. She loved me as her sister, but I was also one of the only consistent things in her life.
She was upset. I knew that she was. And she was lashing out.
I pulled her against me and walked her toward her bedroom. We made it to the area just in front of her bedroom when she stopped dead in her tracks and turned to me, awake all over again.
“So, did you sleep with Craig?” she asked, with a devilish grin. “Was he good? I bet he was!”
“No!” I shouted before my mind could fully even grasp why she was asking what she was. Immediately my heart stopped. Of course she would think I had slept with Craig! He was the one I was out with earlier that night. It was silly, how easily I had forgotten about that part of the evening.
It was weird that she had been so crass about him. He was her therapist. “That’s your therapist!” I shouted. “You’re not supposed to say that shit! You’re not even supposed to think he’s attractive!”
“There’s no sort of rule that says I can’t think a therapist is attractive!” she laughed.
She had a point. “Fine. But don’t think about him like that! That’s weird!”
“Sorry,” she giggled. “Didn’t know you’d get so mad about me talking about your new boyfriend.” She had said “boyfriend” like a seven-year-old girl on a playground.
“Not my boyfriend,” I sighed. “I didn’t sleep with him,” I hadn’t meant to put emphasis on the word “him” but I had.
“I wasn’t with him,” I said.
And then my mind went blank, and the only thing I had remembered before Clair brought me back to reality again was that I was thinking about Ian and the way he felt.
“Then who were you with?” she asked, and immediately I cursed under my breath.
She was always so good at reading me. Had Dad been the one that was up I could have gone by him without more than two words and sure as hell no dead giveaways. But with Claire, I was shit at hiding the truth.
I pulled her down the hall, completely bypassing her room, and pushed her into my room, making sure that I shut the door firmly behind us.
“Don’t say anything yet,” I whispered, noticing that my cheeks were hurting from grinning. “Especially not to Dad,” I knew that I was trailing because I really wasn’t sure if I should tell her or not.
But if I knew anything, I knew that Claire could keep a secret. At least from Dad and Ben she could, and in all reality that was all I wanted anyway.
“You’ve been with Ian!” she squealed with a laugh, a lot louder than expected.
I didn’t even have time to question her incredible intuition. Instead, I slammed my hand over her mouth instinctively to quiet her, and immediately she started muttering behind it. I sighed and moved my hand away, while throwing a look of warning her way.
“Dad isn’t here, you moron! I told you already!” she snapped.
“I know, but you never know when he’s coming home!”
“Oh dear God!” she groaned.
I roll my eyes, “Just keep it quiet?”
She smirked and nodded. “Don’t worry. I won’t say anything.”
She was smiling ear to ear and I was getting more and more embarrassed the longer I looked at her. “So are you guys going to keep seeing each other in secret?” she asked, almost a little too excitedly.
“No. Not for long.” That’s all I could say. I didn’t know what else the future held. I didn’t know any specifics at all, actually.
“It’s just so romantic, Kate!” she squealed, holding her hands together with a stupid grin on her face. “It’s like you’re forbidden lovers!”
I rolled my eyes and groaned, “No, it’s not, Claire.”
“Our families hate one another!” she shot back. “So yes! It’s like Romeo and Juliet!”
I rolled my eyes even more dramatically than before. “Romeo and Juliet wasn’t a love story.”
Claire’s eyes squinted, and she looked confused.
“Oh, because of the way they died?” she asked, as if dismissing it. “You’re not an idiot. You’re not going to take poison and neither is he — and I really don’t see either of you stabbing yourselves… You’re fine.”
“We aren’t forbidden lovers and we’re not keeping anything a secret. I just want to avoid confrontation for the moment. The very temporary moment. Okay?”
“Jesus, fine.” She rolled her eyes. She was frowning all of a sudden. “What are you going to do when you move away?” she asked. Truth was, I didn’t have a clue how to answer it.
I sighed and mimicked my own thoughts, “I have no idea. I don’t really even want to think about that part yet.”
I felt tears starting to tug at my eyes, almost out of nowhere. It was funny how dramatically moods could change within minutes.
If I were an outsider looking in on my life, I would probably think I was emotionally unstable with how much fluctuation went on in a day’s time. “Just please don’t tell Dad yet, okay?” I asked.
“That’s fine, I’m not going to say anything,” she reassured. “Just don’t keep it in forever. The truth always comes out eventually.”
I huffed, knowing she was actually right. “Thanks for the warning, at least.”
She laughed. “Yeah, no problem. I’m doing it to save my own ass, though.”
“Well, aren’t we all,” I laughed.
“I’m going back to bed,” she laughed, rolling her eyes. She never was the type for mushy-gushy talk. “Love you…” she muttered over her shoulder when she turned to leave.
I knew any minute Claire was going to be dead to the world on top of her bed, and I wondered if now was my chance to do some snooping.
Things were about to get even more complicated. I needed all the information I could get, because when I finally told Dad and Ben about Ian and I, there would be hell to pay.
Chapter 18
Ian
I sat across from my laptop, leaning on the desk, and pushed hair from my eyes. I needed a haircut, but didn’t have the time.
I let out an exasperated sigh as I scrolled through an earning-potential spreadsheet for some of our new tech I was looking at the numbers, staring at them with everything I had, but nothing was clicking. Not really.
Working always seemed like something that was difficult when I had Kate on my brain. I really couldn’t stop thinking about what would happen that we were back together. Especially since we weren’t going to keep it a secret.
Would Ben and Michael make my life a living hell and leak whatever “proof” or “evidence” they had against my dad?
Would my company suffer? Hell, even if they didn’t say anything, it was possible my company would still suffer. I was pretty much useless when I thought about her at work, anyway.
I leaned back in my chair. I had so much on my mind that I didn’t really know how I’d read any of the document at all.
I wanted to confront the Murphy’s; I also wanted to confront my dad but that wasn’t an option. But more than anything I just wanted to know the truth. Wanted to know what was going on.
I had a pretty in-depth scenario on my head about what had actually happened with Dad and Michael, and I was sure it was probably wrong, but I couldn’t help but try an
d make sense of it all.
I also couldn’t help but have Kate on my mind at the same time.
It seemed the more I thought about them, the more I ended up thinking about her.
I blushed at the notion of having her in my arms once again. I smiled as I zoned out, thinking only of her. I was so zoned out that I barely heard my office door open and close.
My head snapped up to look at the intruder, and fell immediately when I saw who was standing there. Amelia. My ex girlfriend and Murphy’s current attorney.
Seeing her in my office caused my stomach to drop and whirl with nausea. I wanted to say that I couldn’t believe she just entered without so much as a knock, but I could believe it. She was that kind of person. Manners weren’t her thing. She traipsed in acting like she owned the joint.
She might have been a terrible girlfriend, but she was an amazing lawyer. I had to give that to her. Granted, her moral compass was lacking, but that’s why we broke up. She chose defending BioResearch over dating me because of the money they offered her. To hell with any conflict of interest. I was disposable.
Part of me hated her — and none of me liked her — but I did respect her ability to do her job.
“What do you want, Amelia?” I groaned.
I pushed my desk chair away from my desk slightly and looked at her.
“I just wanted to come by and say, ‘no hard feelings,’ to you,” she said. It was funny. Amelia was the only one that could have made that sentence come across with sexual intent. “And I hope there are no hard feelings on your end, are there?” she asked, biting her lip as she continued to walk slowly and seductively toward my desk.
Her hips swayed with every step, and as sexy as it was in a general aesthetic sense, I couldn’t help but roll my eyes. Amelia basically did the opposite of arouse me.
She pissed me off and made my balls retreat into my body because she was so damned evil.
“Whatever, Amelia. You did what you had to do.” I sighed. I was trying to get rid of her. “So if that’s it, I need to get back to work.”
“I’m just so glad the case was dropped,” she laughed, just before leaning over my desk. Her cleavage would have been visible from space as she used her arms to subtly squeeze her breasts together and lean further over on with her hands beneath her chin as she propped herself up directly in front of me. “I really didn’t want to take you down. I hated it when you had to take over the lawsuit.”
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked, as my head shifted to look at her.
“I mean, I never meant to be against you; just your dad.”
“Not that,” I groaned, my mind suddenly whirling. “Go back. What do you mean ‘take me down’?”
She laughed, like a damn demon would if it was thrust in the same situation. There was no empathy; there was no compassion. It was just a ruthless sort of laugh. “The evidence, Sweetie,” she giggled, again showing just how empty of remorse she really was.
My eyes narrowed and I glared. I hated feeling like someone was being condescending toward me. I hated it more than anything.
“Cut the shit, and tell me what you mean,” I said, anger more than likely shining through with my words.
“There was just a lot of evidence against John. Way too strong for you to ever win the case.” Her words sounded nonchalant. Like I was just supposed to accept it and not wonder about it.
I was getting uncomfortable.
Not only was it not appropriate to talk about with her, but I was also nervous for a whole other reason.
I was nervous because I knew that the lawsuit could, very well, be back on now that I had completely gone against the deal I’d made with Ben.
I started uncharacteristically fidgeting, and I could only hope she hadn’t noticed. I wasn’t the type to be intimidated, or easily stirred by anyone, let alone my ex-girlfriend.
“Would you like to explain yourself?” I asked. “I mean, what did you guys even have?”
“It doesn’t matter now,” she smirked, evilly. “So don’t worry your pretty face about it.”
She basically crawled over my desk and went to touch my chin, but I didn’t let her.
I pushed my desk chair back farther, out of arm’s reach, and looked at her warningly. “Well, Amelia, I’m glad you didn’t, ‘take me down’ too, but right now, I really have to get back to work.” My wording was smug, full of myself and I seemed to pull off the whole I-don’t-give-a-fuck routine.
And that’s exactly what I was going for.
She dropped her hands away from her face and stood up straight, her feet firmly placed back on the ground and her body finally off my desk.
She smirked, without saying anything, and turned to leave, each step making me feel more anxious than the last. I almost regretted letting her leave without explaining more. Almost being the key word. Because I wasn’t sure that I would ever fully regret Amelia leaving.
But still, with every step she made, she got further away, and immediately I felt myself grow cold. My arms braced around my stomach, which started whirling and aching nervously.
Chapter 19
Kate
As casually as I could, and without drawing too much attention to myself — as if anyone was watching — I paced through the hall, thinking about where I could begin my search. I was finally up, only having taken an hour nap before my eyes shot open in anxiety.
I wanted to look through the apartment. I wanted to see if anything jumped out at me. I wanted to find something — anything — to help.
So there I was, pacing through the hall, my mind whirling on which room to search first. The search for the damn unknown. My wild goose chase just to get my blood pumping, or at the very least, so I could feel like I was doing something to help him.
Just as I turned my attention down the hall, toward my dad’s bedroom, I noticed something.
A light.
A light was shining out from beneath my father’s office door.
My attention was grabbed.
Had he come home in that hour I was asleep?
“Dad?” I whispered before remembering that he always left that light on.
I felt stupid and sighed as I continued to stare at the light shining through the crack at the bottom of the door. I smiled as I remembered the past. When I was little, I always used to stuff notes underneath that crack to my dad.
I would act like I was “mailing him letters” at the speed of light.
He had actually played along; which always meant the world to me. It was strange, thinking about how cold he’d become over the years. He was always the best dad to me when I was little.
He was the guy that was at every award ceremony; every banquet; every father/daughter event and dance; he was at every Parent-Teacher conference; and at every ball game.
He was there.
He was present.
For me and for Ben.
The same wasn’t said for Claire, though, unfortunately. And the sad part was that she actually needed him more than we did.
That was probably the problem in all reality, though. Dad hated to be needed. He hated too much emotion, and I know a part of him always resented Claire for mom leaving. And I knew that, over the years, he’d just hardened into a shell of himself.
But I knew that the good guy I’d known when I was a little girl was still in there somewhere.
At least, I hoped so.
I didn’t know it when I had first made up my mind to snoop through his stuff, but the longer I stood there like a damn idiot, staring at his office door, the more I realized something. I was snooping because some part of me wanted to prove that he wasn’t as big of a piece of shit as Ian thought he was.
He was a dick.
He was difficult to be around.
But he wasn’t as cutthroat as most businessmen.
He was generally fair.
He was generally good.
At least, I wanted to believe that.
I shook myself free of my thoug
hts and opened the door. As soon as I swung it open, scents of high quality, expensive, cigars filled my senses. It was mixed with that, his aftershave, and the subtle smell of oak from the large and beautiful shelf that stretched along the entire side of his office.
I always loved that smell. It brought back so many memories of him; and I would always attribute the smell of wood, cigar and aftershave to my old man.
It was comforting. I closed my eyes and let it sink in for a second. But only for a second. I knew I didn’t have much time to waste beyond that single second.
I knew what I was in there to do. It wasn’t to reminisce. It wasn’t to think about my father. It was to try and figure out some semblance of truth; it was to try to make sense out of all the shit that was circling around Ian and I.
I didn’t even hesitate beyond that, either. I’d already wasted too much time observing the door and then the room and the smell of it. I didn’t know when he’d be home, but I knew I wanted to look through the entire office before he got there.
I skimmed over the room one more time, looking for my target. And then I paused at the large wooden bookshelf. Dad seemed like the type to hide something in there. I really didn’t have a clue what the hell I was looking for, so it was possible that if I did find something, I wouldn’t know what the hell I found.
I stepped closer to the large oak piece and noted all the books before lunging for it and pulling the books off.
One by one, I started flipping through them.
They were old journals, mostly. Some medical journals, some actual hand-written journals from what looked like school and early years at BioResearch, and then there were a few research notes. I didn’t know what any of it meant, really. And I wasn’t exactly sure what I was even looking for. I just figured there had to be something there to find.
Only, I couldn’t find it. Over thirty minutes had passed and I realized I had gone through every book he had in the entire office.
I sighed and flopped down onto the desk chair and leaned back.
“Ugh,” I groaned, as I continued to skim.
I was pacing around the room like a damned lunatic, books in hand, when I glanced up. My eyes fell on several photos of our family, and I found myself reminiscing about the past all over again.
