Fall Into Me (Heart of Stone)

by K. M. Scott

  He stepped forward and placed his palms on the edge of my desk, pushing the platinum nameplate aside. The symbolism wasn't lost on me. His meaty, rough hands with their thick knuckles shoving me out of the way.

  Leaning forward, he jutted his face toward me. "Made any trips lately, Tristan?"

  I'd been foolish in thinking he hadn't had someone watching me. Faking nonchalance, I leaned back in my chair and laced my fingers behind my head. "None recently, but I'm planning to head to Atlanta right after New Year's. Would you like me to bring you back some peaches, Karl?"

  His expression changed as he mentally filed away the nugget of information I'd just given him, and then he grinned. "Speaking of peaches, how is your young lady? Feeling well?"

  I bristled at his reference to Nina. "Have you taken to caring about Nina's welfare now, Karl?"

  "I'm just here to remind you that if there is anything incriminating, she would be in grave danger."

  I couldn't help but chuckle at him. "You been watching A Few Good Men recently? Your threat might work better if you sounded like Nicholson."

  Karl didn't seem to understand my joke and continued, "This is almost at its end, son. Remember that."

  He turned to leave as the triumphant victor of our lame battle of wits, mumbling something as he flung open the door and stalked past Michelle. This was a hell of a way to start the day. And now I had to deal with Daryl and his pictures, which would require more playacting on my part to avoid looking like a boyfriend who was in the dark as to what his woman was doing.

  "Tristan, I have so much I want you to see," he announced as he entered my office and closed the door behind him.

  "Take a seat, Daryl. Let's see what you have."

  He sat down in front of my desk and pointed toward the door. "Before I begin, I should let you know that I saw him watching your lady while I was watching loverboy."

  I couldn't hide my surprise at hearing that Karl himself was watching Nina. Thank God I had two bodyguards on her. But he was beginning to be a real problem. Stalking me was one thing. Stalking Nina was an entirely different thing and one I didn't like.

  "I'm guessing by the look on your face that you didn't know. He didn't get close to her, but he was there and watching her."

  "Thanks, Daryl. Did you see anyone else there?"

  "Just the two giants who are always around her. I'd keep them with her at all times. That guy is no good, Tristan."

  "So what do you have for me, Daryl?"

  He handed me the pictures he'd taken as he watched Cal. "Pics of him with a handful of women. That boy gets around. Pics of your lady with loverboy. He's a real player and unless I'm reading her entirely wrong, she's way out of her league with him. You need to make her realize he's playing her. Got a decent amount from her the other night."

  I sifted through the pictures of Cal Johnson and his catalog of women, stopping when I reached the few of Nina and him at the restaurant she'd told me about. I couldn't help but stare at her expression as she sat listening to the lies he spewed about a girlfriend breaking his heart and whatever other bullshit he told her. She looked so innocent sitting there next to him, her blue eyes intense as she sympathetically listened to his tale of woe, her mouth turning down slightly as the pictures went on and she heard how awful his life was. Did she look like that next to me, I wondered? In many ways, Cal resembled someone like me. I'd been accused of being manipulative many times by women. Had they seen me like I saw him now?

  "I'm happy to report that nothing happened between them, you know, sexually. If you ask me, he doesn't seem interested in that from her at all. And she gives off no vibe that she wants him. I think it's a case of she's too nice and he knows it."

  I handed the pictures back to Daryl, my gaze still fixed on the last one of Nina smiling warmly at Cal as she gave him money. "I'm wondering if it's time I paid our friend Cal a visit."

  "If you're asking me, I say no. Don't bother yourself with this. Deal with your lady. I really don't think she's planning some kind of rendezvous. I think she's just naive and wants to help out an old friend who's down on his luck. She doesn't know this is his game. Let her know what's going on and I guarantee you I won't have any more pics of them together."

  I thought about Daryl's suggestion and nodded my agreement. I didn't expect to see anything more from him about Nina and Cal, but it was best to keep an eye on loverboy for a while longer. Standing from my chair, I walked around to lead him out. "Keep on him for a little while. I want to be able to show without a doubt that he's scamming women."

  "No problem, Tristan. Want to schedule a time to meet after Christmas? Say, the Friday after?"

  Patting him on the back, I escorted him to Michelle's desk so she could mark the date on my calendar. "That's fine. If I don't see you before, have a merry Christmas, Daryl."

  "You too, Tristan. Enjoy your holiday with your lady."

  When he was out of earshot, I turned to Michelle. "I'm going to be out of the office until after the holidays. The same order as before applies. Do not let Karl in, but I want you to tell him I'll be in Dallas for Christmas when he asks."

  "Okay. I will, Mr. Stone," she said quietly, as if her agreement was to be a secret too. "Is everything okay?"

  I ignored her question as I spied the gift box at the back of her desk, evidence that Angelo had gotten her the Christmas gift I'd wanted. I'd told him to choose a necklace, something classic but nice, leaving him as much room to choose as he liked.

  She blushed and looked back at the box. "You didn't have to go to such trouble, Mr. Stone. It's lovely."

  Michelle knew as well as I did that I hadn't gone to any trouble since Angelo had done all the leg work. Smiling, I said, "It's the least I can do to make up for years of not doing enough. I hope he picked something you like."

  She turned back toward me with the necklace laid across her palm. A white gold necklace with a diamond and pearl pendant, it was very much her style—classic and understated. Thank God for Angelo because if I had to pick out gifts like that, I'd likely be standing dumbfounded for hours in front of the counter at Saks.

  "I love it. Thank you."

  "I hope you have a nice holiday, Michelle. Make sure security locks the suite as you're leaving on Monday. I'll see you when I get back."

  "Monday? You don't want me here on Christmas Eve, like every other year?"

  Suddenly, I felt like Ebenezer Scrooge. I had made her work every other Christmas Eve since I'd started at Stone Worldwide. I was there, so it had never occurred to me that she shouldn't be there working too.

  Shaking my head, I smiled at her. "No. Enjoy your holiday, Michelle."

  "You too, Mr. Stone. I hope it's a happy one."

  I didn't continue the conversation, silently praying that Nina and I would have a happy Christmas. It was our first, and I wanted it to be perfect for her. But first, I needed to find out the rest of the story from Amanda Cashen's sister. After making arrangements to fly out that afternoon, I took care of some business and headed back to the house to find Nina, my stomach in knots about what I'd find in Atlanta.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tristan

  The flight was thankfully uneventful, even though the smoothest plane ride was still terrifying for me. I spent the entire time sitting like a statue in my seat while Nina talked about what she planned to do for the Atlanta suite, intentionally trying to take my mind off the trip. I hadn't exaggerated about wanting to join the Mile High Club with her when I'd teased her about it, but the minute I stepped onto the plane, it was like every other time I'd flown since the crash. My heart raced and I didn't feel like I was getting enough air in my lungs, as if someone had their hands wrapped around my neck and their fingers were pressing against my throat, slowly strangling me. None of the tricks the doctors had given me worked, but I couldn't help but smile at Nina's attempt to make the flight bearable.

  The Atlanta Richmont was all decked out for the Christmas holiday with a twenty-five foot evergreen tree
decorated with gold and red ornaments as the focal point in the lobby. It resembled the kind of tree my mother used to love for the holidays.

  "Tristan, this hotel is gorgeous! Do all of them look like this?" Nina asked as she swiveled her head left and right to take in all the view.

  "Pretty much. Some are better than others. This is my first time here too, but I must say it's not bad."

  She jabbed me in the ribs with her finger and grimaced. "Always so understated. This place is great!"

  I leaned down to kiss her and whispered, "I'm glad you like it. Let's hope you think the same way when you see the suite."

  Located on the top floor of the hotel, the Peachtree Suite was one of two suites that took up the space a penthouse in other hotels would. I'd originally chosen this suite instead of the other Dogwood Suite because I'd hoped it would be a good way to ease Nina back into work. Unlike in Dallas, with its ugly gold everywhere, the designers my father had hired for Atlanta were top notch, so all she'd have to do was choose a piece or two she loved and she'd have succeeded.

  Nina followed me into the suite and whistled behind me. "This is even nicer in person than it was online. I'm still not sure what artwork I could pick to improve on it, though."

  I poured myself a drink to calm my nerves from the plane and what I was about to do. "I'm sure whatever you pick will be great, Nina."

  Wrapping her arms around me, she pressed her cheek to my back. "Is there something wrong? I know you said you hate flying, but all of a sudden, you seem different."

  I put my glass down on the bar and placed my hands over hers on my chest. "Nothing wrong. I'm always like this after a flight."

  "You sure? Anything I can do?" she asked sweetly, making me wish I could just tell her what was making my stomach twist in knots. I couldn't. Not yet, anyway. I had to do this alone, but I hoped that once I met with Jessica Cashen that all the secrets I'd kept from Nina could finally come out.

  I turned in her hold and cupped her chin. "I need to take care of some business this afternoon, but I hope we can have dinner when I get back. I shouldn't be long."

  Nina smiled up at me, blissfully unaware of where I was going. "Okay. I'm going to get working on the artwork for this nearly perfect suite, Mr. Stone. Don't worry. I'm on the job."

  I couldn't help but smile. She did that to me. "I'm happy to hear it, Ms. Edwards. I'll expect a full report when I return then."

  "Of course." She faked a bow and stood on her toes to kiss me. "Don't work too hard, okay? Tell whoever you're meeting that I'm going to have something to say to them if you come back here all grouchy because of work."

  Kissing the tip of her nose, I promised not to work too hard. I couldn't promise I wouldn't be a miserable fuck when I returned, though. I hadn't been able to get all those terrible things Joseph Edwards had detailed in his notes out of my mind and what Judge Cashen's daughter had to say likely wouldn't make things better. But at least I'd know the full truth.

  The concierge had a car service take me to Jessica Cashen's home in Alpharetta, and nearly an hour later I was standing on the front porch of her home with my heart in my throat. A cool breeze chilled me as it began to lightly rain. I rang the doorbell and balled up my shaking hands, bracing myself for what was to come.

  The door opened and in front of me stood a woman I guessed wasn't even Nina's age. Maybe twenty-two, she had short blond hair and brown eyes that grew larger by the second as she stared at me. She was petite, but quickly I found out that small package was full of power.

  "Who are you? How can you be here?" she asked in a voice seeped in rage.

  I raised my hands in front of me in surrender, hoping to put her at ease. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. My name is Tristan and I was hoping to speak to you about your father."

  "There's no way you can be standing here in front of me. Is this some kind of cruel joke? If so, I don't think it's funny."

  She tried to slam the door on me, but I quickly stuffed my right foot next to the doorjamb and said quietly, "Please. I don't know what you're talking about, but it's very important I speak to you."

  "Who are you?"

  I looked in through the opening and saw a look of horror on her face. "Don't be scared. My name is Tristan Stone. I just want to talk. Please."

  The look in her eyes told me she recognized my name. Slowly, she opened the door and her gaze scanned me up and down. Finally, she stopped on my face and narrowed her eyes to angry slits.

  "You look just like him."

  I didn't have to ask who she meant. Nodding, I said, "He was my twin."

  "I heard he died. Is that true?" she asked with venom in her words.

  "Yes."

  "Good. I hope he suffered." She looked away and then faced me again. "I'm sorry. I just can't feel bad that he's gone."

  "May we talk? I need some answers, and I'm hoping you can help me understand some things."

  Silently, she welcomed me in and we sat in a small living room off the entryway with a small, unlit Christmas tree in the corner. I studied her for a moment as she did the same with me, and then I said what I guessed no one in my family had ever said to her. "I'm sorry about the deaths of your father and sister."

  "I'm having a hard time believing you knew nothing about that, Mr. Stone. Your brother sure did."

  "My brother and I were two very different people. I swear to you I knew nothing about what happened to your family. That's what I'm here for tonight."

  Jessica Cashen sighed heavily and her mouth turned down into a frown. "You don't understand how hard it was to accept what your brother did. Even today, if I hear the name Taylor, I have a hard time not lashing out. My husband has been through so many nights of me being miserable over this I had to promise him I'd let it go."

  "I understand, Jessica, but I need to know things only you can tell me. There's another person hurt by all this, and she'll be helped by what you tell me."

  "Are you saying your brother did this to another girl too?"

  I shook my head. "No, but there was another person hurt by my brother and father. What you can tell me about what happened may help her deal with the loss of her father."

  "I'm sorry to hear someone else went through what my family had to endure. My mother died last year right in this house, never fully recovered from the shock of losing my sister and father just months apart. She just shriveled up."

  "I'm so sorry."

  She wiped a tear away and took a deep breath. "I'll tell you what I know. You'll have to fill in the blanks."

  "Thank you." I sat back on the couch and listened as she began her story.

  "My sister was only fifteen when she met your brother, Tristan. Even now as I look at you, I can see him. Those same brown eyes and look of money you both have. How old are you?"

  "Twenty-nine."

  "Did you like teenage girls when you were twenty-four? Your brother did. I never found out how he met her. I can't imagine why a fifteen year old girl, a freshman in high school, would be anywhere near where a grown man would be. Amanda was sweet and innocent, not in the way people say someone is but in reality they're out every night sleeping with anyone. She was still a virgin when she met him."

  My stomach turned at the idea of being with a teenage girl when I was twenty-four.

  "Wherever they met, she was crazy about him from the first night. I remember she came up to my room and told me she'd met someone. I thought she meant some boy at the mall. She told me his name was Taylor and he was gorgeous with big brown eyes she was sure were the most beautiful eyes she'd ever seen. I bet you've heard that a lot too."

  Jessica stopped for a moment and stared at me. "It's amazing how much you look like him. When I first saw you standing in my doorway, I wanted to lunge at you I was so angry. You're identical down to the shape of your face and even your teeth."

  For the first time in my life, I hated the way I looked as she described Taylor through my features. "You met Taylor, I assume?"

  "Once. It was
then that I realized my sister had gotten into something that was going to be bad for her. I just didn't realize how bad."

  "What happened to make things go bad?" I asked, knowing the basic outline of the story. My brother had gotten a teenage girl pregnant and like a coward, had turned his back on her and the baby. What I didn't know was why.

  "She found out she was going to have his baby. I tried to convince her to have an abortion. She was only fifteen, for God's sake. I was nearly nineteen at the time and I couldn't have handled a baby. She was too young, but she wouldn't listen to me. She was in love with him and thought they'd get married and live happily after. I tried to explain things to her, but she just said over and over that he could take care of her. I guess she thought since he was wealthy that he'd do just that."

  "Did she tell your parents who the father was?"

  Jessica shook her head sadly. "Not at first. She told him, but then the calls from him stopped. He wouldn't talk to her. She became depressed and stayed in her room all the time. My mother began to ask questions and finally Amanda told her she was pregnant. But even then, she wouldn't give up his name. She was sure he would come around. She thought he might be scared because of who our father was. Amanda wasn't stupid, even if she was naive. She knew a twenty-four year old man with a fifteen year old girl was considered statutory rape, even if she was madly in love. My father was a judge, and she was worried that Taylor might be afraid to live up to his responsibilities because of the difference in their ages."

  I tried to imagine this person Jessica was describing, but I didn't know him. My brother had always been so on the straight and narrow. I couldn't imagine how he'd think sleeping with a teenage girl was okay.

  Knowing what I was about to say may upset Jessica, I lowered my voice and quietly said, "Was your sister a willing participant?" I couldn't bring myself to ask if my twin brother had raped a child.

  "If you're asking did he force himself on her, the answer is no. He wasn't a rapist, Tristan. He was a son-of-a-bitch who discarded my little sister when things got too real for him. He was fine with her when she was a simple thing to play with, but when real life crashed in on them, he abandoned her, leaving her to deal with a baby on her own."