by Peak, Renna
My nostrils flared. “Yeah, I figured. It must have turned into more than that at some point.”
The smile on his face fell and he turned back to look out the window. “You remember that awful movie she was in a few years ago?”
My mouth twisted around on itself. “I don’t remember any awful movies she’s been in.”
“Her first one. Sunset something.”
I nodded, trying to catch his sideward gaze. “Sunset at Midnight. It wasn’t an awful movie, Brandon.”
He turned to face me. “You just liked the guy that was in it. She was awful.”
“Hmph.” Not that what he was saying wasn’t true. The male actor that had been in it was a god, even more than Brandon. There was no denying that.
He looked back out the window. “She and I met through a mutual friend.” He gritted his teeth. “In politics.”
“Before or after the movie?”
“Before. She was struggling. She didn’t have any money and couldn’t pay my rates. So I made a deal with her.” He turned to face me, biting the corner of his mouth. “I don’t normally do deals like that.”
I searched his eyes. “What kind of deal?”
He turned to the window again. “I dug up some stuff on the producer and convinced him to cast her. She signed a contract with me. Thirty percent of gross on all of her future earnings.”
My neck felt like jelly and it dropped like a stone so heavy I was staring at the floor. My voice dropped to almost a whisper. “What?”
He bit his lower lip and nodded, turning to face me. “Yeah.”
I blinked several times and leaned back into the couch. “She agreed to that?”
He licked his bottom lip and bit it again. “Yeah. I’m pretty awful, right?”
I nodded and looked back out at the water. “Yeah.”
I saw him nod out of the corner of my eye. “Yeah. She was trying to get out of it the other night. The kiss was just me playing her. I didn’t let her out of it. She has a misguided notion that she can seduce me into giving her what she wants. That I actually have feelings for her.”
I shook my head, unable to face him. “You really are a douche.”
“I told you. Are you pissed now?”
I shook my head. “I feel sorry for her.”
“Don’t feel sorry for her. She’s still doing fine, even with thirty percent off the top. She lives like a queen.”
I shook my head again, feeling the crimson creep into my cheeks. “It doesn’t make it right.”
“Are you pissed now?”
My heart raced a little. “No.”
“Damn it, Jen. What do I have to do?”
I tilted my head and turned back to face him. “Why do you want me to hate you? I asked you to leave. The door’s right over there.” I motioned toward the door with my hand. “You can go any time. It won’t break my heart.”
“I’m not going anywhere.”
My heart raced in my chest. “Do you tell her you love her?” I turned back to face him.
I saw his breath hitch in his chest and he turned to meet my gaze. “No.”
“Not even once?” I raised an eyebrow, waiting for his response. My chest ached; I wasn’t sure I wanted to know the answer.
“That would make me so much more than a douche bag, Jen.” He set his jaw. “Would it piss you off if I said yes?”
I felt a twinge in the center of my chest. Hell yes, it would piss me off. “No.”
The corners of his mouth turned up. “Are you sure?”
I gritted my teeth. “I’m sure. Why are you doing this?”
“Trying to piss you off? So you’ll let it out. You need to get it out. Shoving it down and putting that god damned prissy Hennessey smile on your face does not make your anger go away. It makes you bitter. I don’t ever want to see you bitter, Jen.”
I shook my head and turned back to the window. “I’m not bitter.”
“Not yet.”
9
“What exactly do you want me to say to you, Brandon?” I stood up from the sofa and began to pace in front of the window.
“I want you to get pissed off. Throw one of those vases.” He pointed to a shelf where some of my mother’s treasures stood.
I clasped my hands behind my back and walked back and forth in front of the window. “So when you and Daniel were putting this plan together…” I paced a few more steps before turning back to him. “Did you two idiots think about how this would affect me? How your little plan was going to affect me? Or were you only worried about taking down the senator and the Hennesseys? Because I don’t think…”
“Jen, this wasn’t my plan, I already told you that.” His eyes grazed over me from my toes to my head. “This reaction you’re having right now, however, is more what I’m talking about.”
My cheeks burned with my anger. “Get over yourself. You haven’t done anything but lie to me.”
He nodded. “Keep going.”
My nostrils flared and I crossed my arms over my chest. “You said you were getting out of this business. You were going to stop with the lies and the blackmailing. What happened to that?”
He sucked in his bottom lip and released it with a loud pop. “It’s not like this is a business you can just walk away from. I’m trying. You have to trust that I’m trying.”
My gaze darted to meet his. “I don’t trust anything you say.”
“That’s probably the smartest thing you’ve ever said.”
I took in a deep breath and heard my voice rise. “What the fuck? Am I some delicate flower who can’t handle the truth? You, Daniel, my father. Why can’t you guys just be straight with me? It isn’t like I’ll wither and die if I hear the truth about something.”
I saw him set his jaw, and I knew immediately what he was thinking. That I really was some delicate flower that actually might tip over the edge if there was too much.
I shook my head. “You have to be kidding me. I had just given up the only thing in the world that was important to me.” I swept my arm toward the piano. “The only thing I had ever wanted. The only thing that was all mine. I gave it up for Daniel and he killed himself that night. Who wouldn’t have snapped?”
He pressed his lips into a line, waiting for me to continue.
“I did the best I could, but I blamed myself. I blamed myself forever, until I met you. And then you…” I stopped, turning to face him. “You.”
I saw him flinch a little. “Me.”
I glared across at him. “You, who may or may not have known what he was doing that night we met. You, who tells all of these beautiful stories about meeting your soul mate and fate and there not being any coincidences or mistakes. You, who made me feel like I might not have to grieve for the rest of my life. You, who filled some Brandon-sized hole in my heart that I didn’t even know was there.” I turned away, fighting back the tears that I could feel threatening me behind my eyes. “And then it was over. You lied to me. You lied and it was all like a house of cards that just came crashing down around me. And then everything was worse than it was before I met you.” My eyes burned with the tears I knew were about to come. I shook my head, gritting my teeth. “I wish I had never met you.”
“Jen…”
Tears filled my eyes. “Nothing you’ve ever said was true, was it? Everything was a game, another piece in your puzzle. Another step toward some vendetta that’s consumed you since you were in preschool. You don’t care who you step on, as long as it gets you closer to what you really want. You don’t care how many hearts you break, how many people you destroy.”
He shook his head, cocking it toward me. “Jen, that’s not true…”
“You never cared, did you? All of the poetic bullshit that comes out of your mouth, that’s all it is, right? Bullshit? You never loved me. You ripped my heart out and you never even fucking cared. I hope I was at least a decent lay.”
“Give me a fucking break. You were a fantastic lay.” He clapped his palm against his forehead wh
en he realized what he had said. “Fuck, Jen, that’s not what I meant…”
My eyes narrowed to slits. “Don’t ever call me that again. My name is Jenna.”
He tilted his head. “Jen…”
Every muscle in my body quivered with anger. “No, this is what you wanted, right? You wanted me to get pissed off. Well, here I am. I’m about as pissed off as I’ve ever been.”
He nodded and I could see something else in his eyes. Fear. “I can see that. It’s good. Part of the healing process.”
My pulse sped, my heart beat pounding in my ears. “Fuck you. What are you, psychoanalyzing me now? You can go straight to hell, Brandon. I’m fairly sure that’s where you came from, anyway.”
His eyes narrowed and his cheeks flushed. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
My eyes narrowed to slits to match his. “Your contracts. Fucking people over. You make people sign a deal with the devil to get what they think they want. That’s you, right? The devil. You’re the fucking lord of the underworld, and I never even saw it.”
He tilted his head to the side, his eyes hardening. “That was a little below the belt.”
A wicked grin came to my face. “You wanted me to take a shot. There it is. It’s true, though, isn’t it? You give people what they want, and the price they pay is to live in hell for the rest of their lives. You can’t deny it.”
“Jen…”
My voice trembled. “Jenna.” I curled my lip up, my eyes narrowed. “So what would it cost me?”
He shook his head, his own voice trembling. “What would what cost you?”
I steeled myself. “To hire you. What’s the price? Do I get a discount for having fucked you for the last two months or is that just expected? Was that part of your deal with Robin Axelrod?”
He crossed his arms in front of him. “Tread lightly, Jen.”
I crossed my own arms, matching his stance. “Jenna.” I narrowed my gaze again. “You didn’t answer my question.”
His head cocked to the side. “What are we talking about?”
The corners of my lips turned up. “So there is a price. How much? And factor in that you will never, and I mean never, be fucking this again.” I motioned in front of my body with one hand. “What’s the price for you getting someone answers?”
He shook his head. “I’m not working for you, Jen.”
“Jenna. Get that straight, Richardson. I’ll never be your Jen again. What’s the price? You get me the answers I need, whatever it is. How much?”
“You couldn’t afford me.”
I clenched my jaw. “Try me. I’m a trust fund baby, remember? I may not be a Hennessey by blood, but I’ve got a lot of their fucking money in my bank account. A lot of Davis money, too. Does that make your skin crawl, Brandon? Knowing that you’ve been inside a Hennessey and a Davis? Because, you know, if I hated as deeply as you do, it would make my skin crawl.”
His eyes narrowed into a glare. “That’s enough, Jen.”
I dug my fingernails into my palms. “Jenna, god damn it. My name is Jenna Davis. Say it.”
He gritted his teeth. “Jenna. Davis.”
I lifted my chin, meeting his gaze again. “Good. Now how much? Factor in that I will not be giving you my body and that you hate both sides of my family. How much will it cost me?”
He shook his head. “I’m not for hire anymore. I made a promise to someone. I have other jobs I have to finish up, but I’m no longer for hire. Sorry.” He narrowed his eyes again, almost daring me to reply.
I shook my head, my lips turning up into an angry smile. “I don’t believe you. I think you’re discriminating against me because of my family. Do you think there’s a government agency that I can complain to? Because I don’t think I’m being treated fairly…”
He crossed the room in only a stride or two and grabbed me by the wrists. “Jen, stop.”
I shook my head, our faces impossibly close. If I spoke, my lips would graze his and then I’d be done. “No, this is what you wanted. You wanted to see me angry. Here I am. And the name’s Jenna.”
His eyes lowered to look at my lips and his voice dropped to a whisper. “Jen. Stop. It’s enough.”
My head barely shook. “It’s not enough. You didn’t answer my question. How much?”
“I would do anything for you. Anything.” He blinked several times. “But you have to stop.”
I shook my head again and my own voice was barely audible. “No. No more of your dashing promises. No more stories. No more lies.”
He tipped his head so that his forehead touched mine. “Jen, you said you had a Brandon-sized hole in your heart that you didn’t know was there until you met me.”
“I’m sorry I said that.” I winced as the grip around my wrists tightened.
“Jen, I didn’t even know I had a heart until I met you. My entire heart is Jenna Davis-sized.” His hands released their tight grip on my wrists and reached up to cup my face. “I love you, Jenna Davis. I didn’t even know I was capable of love until I met you.”
He tilted his head and brushed his lips across mine. His lips barely grazed mine in what was the sweetest, and yet most passionate kiss I had ever experienced. My breath caught in my chest and tears filled my eyes again.
His hands dropped from my face as he dropped to his knees. He wrapped his arms around my waist and embraced me, his head pressed against my belly. “Jen, I am so sorry. I never meant to cause you any pain.
I reached down and touched his hair, entwining my fingers in his locks and pulling him closer to me. One of his hands found mine and he threaded his fingers through mine, pulling me onto my knees to meet his gaze.
My mouth dropped open when he looked into my soul with his steely blue eyes, now the same color as the water outside. I couldn’t find my voice to speak.
He brushed his lips across mine again, barely touching them, but raining fire across them all the same.
He pulled back to look into my eyes one more time. I watched him struggle to speak. “Jen…”
I heard a phone ring in the distance, probably in the den where Cade was holed up. A split second later, Brandon’s phone chirped with a text.
Brandon pulled his phone from his pocket and Cade jogged the length of the house to where we were sitting. He was out of breath, almost doubled over when he slid to a stop in front of us. “Turn it on. Turn it on.” I could hear him struggling to breathe as he walked back to where I had left the laptop near the kitchen.
I rose to my feet and looked over at Brandon, who was still on his knees, slack-jawed, looking at his phone. He shoved it toward me, reading aloud. “He’s off script.” The text was from Krystal.
I hurried over to the computer and started the video from the news site. The two men stood behind me as I watched my father and mother sitting together on a love seat in what I recognized as one of the sitting rooms in our San Diego home.
The video was a few minutes behind live television and I watched the interviewer ask the questions I’d expected. My mother sat still, wedged against the side of the love seat. I could see she would have rather been anywhere other than there. Not that I could blame her.
Brandon touched at the laptop, fast-forwarding the video closer to the end. He took a step back and the three of us watched the two people sitting on the love seat in San Diego begin to unravel.
The interviewer asked about the DNA testing and my father went off the rails. He denied it, denied everything. He pulled a piece of paper from the inside of his jacket and laid it on the coffee table in front of him. He pointed at the camera. “The three of us went in for DNA testing on our own a few days ago.”
My brows knitted together. More lies.
Brandon whispered into my ear. “Did you?”
I shook my head and leaned in closer to the screen. I couldn’t hear. I could barely think.
My father continued. “As you can see, the results show conclusively that my daughter is the product of my marriage with Marian. The insinuation t
hat she isn’t is absurd and the fault of one person, the brother of my campaign manager. This man has been on a vendetta against our family for years. It’s time for the lies to stop. It’s time for Brandon Richardson to stop living in the shadows and leave our family alone.”
I turned to look at Brandon, my jaw slackened. His eyes were narrowed, his hand scraping across the stubble on his chin. I turned back to the screen.
My mother was as white as one of her bathroom towels, appearing to have been drained of every ounce of her blood. She clutched the side of the love seat with both hands and I could see her fingernails digging into it. She sat open mouthed while my father continued spouting off about the horrors Brandon had brought upon our family.
My heart thudded in my chest and my eyes widened when she stood up. “Enough. Enough. I can’t do this anymore.”
Both of the men on the screen stopped talking long enough to look at my mother.
She continued. “Jenna shouldn’t have been dragged into this. And she is not my daughter.” She turned and fled from the small room where the filming was taking place.
I reached forward and closed the laptop. I had seen enough. I turned to Cade, ignoring the hand on my shoulder that I knew was Brandon’s. “I need to get to San Diego.”
10
Two weeks later
“Try again.” I closed my eyes and pinched my brows together with my fingertips.
The man on the computer screen groaned. “It’s not as easy for me as it is for you.”
I opened my eyes to face him, shaking my head. “Stop being such a baby, Will. Try again.”
He let out a long sigh and rolled his eyes. “Fine. What was the question again?”
I gave him a small sigh of exasperation. I gritted my teeth before repeating what I had just asked him not a moment before. “I work at two minimum wage jobs to feed and clothe my children and I still can’t make ends meet. What are you going to do to help people like me, the working poor?”
He set his jaw and rolled his eyes again. “I know, I know. I can’t ask why she had kids if she couldn’t afford them.” He set his jaw and twisted his mouth around.
