Bona Fide (Illusive Duet Book 2)

by Hazel Grace

  “That’s what breaking shit off means.”

  “What if I don’t want to? What if I can get past this and we can just continue?” She keeps on with the what-if shit when my whole body starts to signal in on something nearby, or someone. Someone who makes me detonate on impact.

  My gaze peers over to Indie’s left, discovering Marty and Reagan standing at the front desk with suitcases in tow. She studies the layout of the hotel lobby, her legs carrying her around in a small circle.

  I saturate her to memory for the last time in—I’m not sure how long I stare.

  Light blue jean shorts that I would never let her go out in public in. A coral-colored tank top that covers her midriff this time, thank fuck, and that dark hair, it cascades beautifully down her back lazily.

  I love her enough to let her go.

  To not be doused in my bullshit so that she flourishes and thrives.

  I’ve shaded her for far too long. Her life has been submerged and on the brink of demise while I stayed clean, and my selfishness has to die along with it. No matter how bleak my future will be, never feeling how I do with her again. It will be enough knowing she'll evolve and shine.

  Indie follows my attention, immediately landing on Reagan. A soft scoff and a shake of her head is her response to the woman I’m letting her go for.

  “You’re right,” Indie concedes. “I’ll never be her. And I don’t want to be.” She turns to look at me one last time. “You both look like shit.”

  She pivots towards the lobby. I don’t take my gaze off Reagan, and she picks that exact moment to see me.

  Her eyes widen, then quickly soften, sadness glimmering off her irises.

  I want to tell her I’m sorry.

  That I wish things were different and that we had met at another time in our lives. That I still love her and that I’ll always be enamoured and proud of who she is and has become.

  Indie appears in front of her, snatching Reagan’s attention from me. Then a loud slap, and I blink at the scene I just witnessed.

  Indie just belted Reagan in the face.

  Marty turns on his heel, stepping between the both of them and about to get into Indie’s face. I understand her wanting to inflict some hurt, but doing it around the beast known as Reagan’s brother was a bad idea.

  Reagan yanks him back, speaking to him while Indie makes her quick and smart exit. With a quick moment of arguing, Marty makes his way out of the automatic sliding doors with suitcases in tow.

  Leaving his sister in the lobby alone.

  Reagan steals another glance at me, a weak smile, and then a wink. She doesn’t regret last night, and I don’t either, but I’m afraid when I get older my memories will fade. That I’ll lose pieces of her that won’t be able to be found.

  And I don’t want her to go with them.

  ♫ Hurricane — Thrice ♫

  “You sure about this?” I fix the lapels of my brother’s suit as he tries to hold down a calm demeanor. He might be related to me, but he was always the one to quickly rat us out when Dad started to put the heat on us for whatever shit we got into. And dealing with Demi is a whole other animal.

  “Yeah.” He straightens his spine but doesn’t hide the heavy exhale. “You got some weed?”

  I flick my eyes to him. “You really want to smell like—”

  “Where is it at?”

  “I don’t have any—” My eyes constrict. “—the last thing I need is being known as Pothead the President.”

  “I got you,” Phoebe sounds from behind us, stepping into my old bedroom. “You know Wade has to be careful with his status.” I can hear the teasing in her tone, but we have a meeting with one of my lawyers in two hours, and I want Lucas sober and focused.

  “Do you really think that’s appropriate?” I chide my sister from over my shoulder. “You both need to be—”

  “This isn’t our thing,” Lucas retorts. “We don’t deal with—”

  “Mama doesn’t let us talk to anyone outside of her circle of douchebags,” Phoebe fills in. “She’s going to lose her shit when she knows we came to you with all of this.”

  You should’ve come to me fucking sooner.

  “I wish you would’ve come to me sooner,” I reply instead, coercing my irritation back. “I would’ve been there for you instead of shunning you like a bunch of fucking—”

  “It’s probably best you did.” Phoebe glances at Lucas. “You would’ve never ended up where you are with all the press about our allegations and—”

  “Stop.” I let Lucas finish his tie and stride to my sister, who took a seat on my bed.

  Her light pink dress reminds me of the ones she used to wear as a child. Her honey hair that I accidentally lit on fire once when Lucas and I were playing with sparklers and fountains. When she came to me in hysterics after Camila chopped half her ponytail off because she touched her dumbass Barbies.

  When I got involved with Demi, I distanced myself unknowingly from them. I began with my own life and never looked back to make sure my siblings were faring okay on their own. In love and optimism, I left them behind, blindfolded by my love for Demi. And they paid the price for it.

  I hunch down and peer up at her. “I would’ve dropped everything for you. For all of you. I will never quit you again—ever. That annoying ass, overbearing brother you had years ago, I’m back. You’ll never want for a fucking thing.”

  Phoebe’s face begins to twist. “I’m so sorry, Wade. For Camila and—” I launch up and pull her into my arms, squeezing her in reassurance.

  “None of this is your fault. None of it, do you hear me?” I peer over my shoulder. “You too, asshole. You’re not alone, I’m fucking here. We’re a family...got it?”

  I feel Phoebe nod into my chest as she compresses me closer to her.

  “Yeah,” Lucas replies. “We got it.”

  “It’s my fault you’re both here. I should’ve seen the signs. There is no reason why I—”

  “Let’s stop the blaming,” my brother conveys, erasing the distance between us. His hand lands on my shoulder. “We’re in this together, got it?”

  My lips lift weakly. “Yeah, man, got it.” Phoebe blindly reaches out for Lucas and pulls him in. Together, we’re rounded in a semi-circle hug blob with Phoebe’s soft sobs in the center.

  “Wade.” I clench my eyes closed as Em breaks the moment with my siblings. For once, I feel like there is hope for my family to be somewhat full again. My mother can still go to hell, Henry can suck a dick for fucking my wife, but Phoebe and Lucas—that’s enough for me.

  We break from each other and turn to face the doorway where Em stands before moving to the side to let someone else in.

  Henry.

  My eyes trail back to my assistant as I grip Phoebe’s hip tighter and hook my finger to the back of Lucas’s pants like a possessive mother who’s about to rip someone’s face off.

  “What the fuck is going on here?”

  Em clasps her hands together. “We need to talk.”

  “And you needed a chaperone or…” She returns my response with an unamused expression and gestures towards the front room.

  “We’ll sit out here.”

  “We have somewhere to be.” And you know that. “It’ll have to wait, Em.”

  “It can’t.”

  “She looks serious,” Lucas comments next to me, and he’s not wrong. However, it does nothing to make me want to move. “Let’s just hurry up and get it over with.” Phoebe gives me a soft squeeze in agreement.

  “It’ll be alright,” Phoebe mutters.

  Because you’re used to Dad ordering you both around. Because I didn’t raise y’all better. Because I’m a fucking tool for leaving you both with our parents.

  “Follow me,” I deadpan, motioning for Em and Henry to lead the way.

  Inside my living room, the sun is hidden by clouds, dousing my mood as Phoebe and Lucas sit together on the couch.

  A united front.

  They might not be
an entirely strong one at first sight, but they’ve survived. Not only that, but my problems don’t seem as dire as the ones they’ve experienced because of the decisions I’ve made. And Lucas and Phoebe are so much more inspirational than me. They’ve forgiven me off a whim, accepted my help, and have listened to everything I’ve said.

  I would’ve, again, told them to fuck off and not bother me if the tables we turned.

  Henry is at the minibar pouring a drink, but my focus stays locked on Em, who patiently waits for me to settle in. So I stand next to my brother and sister, taking sides, ready to hear what's so important that it couldn't wait.

  “Floor is yours, Em.”

  “We have a problem,” she deadpans, swiping up a folder that I didn’t realize was on the coffee table when we walked in.

  “I caught on to that.”

  “Demi is moving on with her shady dealings, I found out what it is.” She extends the manila folder to me. My eyes narrow in on her as I take it. She just said that in front of my fucking father who I don’t want to know shit about what I’ve been doing and how much I’ve grown up to become him.

  An asshole.

  Stupid.

  Selfish.

  A liar.

  “And that had to be said in front of Henry?” I carp, feeling my temper start to peak.

  “Yes,” Em replies. “Because it’s going to involve him too. Our plan.”

  On cue, he comes over with three glasses in his hand; one for Lucas, me, and Phoebe waves him off.

  “I’m good,” she states then pulls out a blunt.

  “Really, Phoebe?” Dad chides softly. “That stuff stinks.”

  “Then leave,” Lucas proposes flatly. “It’ll speed this up.”

  Maybe he is more like me after all.

  “Go ahead, Em,” I press.

  “She’s been talking to the Russians.”

  “The what?” I perk a brow as Henry takes the far couch.

  “Nikolai Bogdanov,” she continues. “Russian delegate to their defense department and also known as a spy in my world.”

  My nostrils flare. “Of course, because you’re a spy now.”

  I don’t know what I’m pissed at more now. Em being someone that I don’t know anymore. That this alleged job that she has puts her in danger, and I’m not okay with it. That she brought my father into my house, who is now sipping on my expensive whiskey and in the presence of my siblings right now. Especially when I’m trying to right my wrongs and his visually impaired senses as a father that didn’t want to help.

  And maybe I should stop passing around the blame because I’m as fucked up in the head as he is.

  “You done?” She lifts a brow, and I avert my gaze because, no, I’m not, but we’re not going to solve that issue.

  “What’s in this folder?” Phoebe asks. “Can I open it?”

  “Go ahead,” I reply, the smell of cannabis hitting my nose. “What is she doing with this Niko—whatever the fuck his name is?”

  “She’s pregnant with his baby.” My jaw drops before my father shifts in his chair.

  “The fuck?!” Lucas and I exclaim at the same time.

  Damn, maybe we didn’t lose our brotherly connection because Lucas stands up next to me in silent comfort.

  “She wants to sign over her rights to Daxton, the child we have together.”

  “The what?!” Phoebe chimes in loudly, now on her feet to stand on the other side of me. “What are you talking about, Dad?”

  “Take another hit off that blunt,” I tell her. “You’re going to need it.”

  “What did you do?” Lucas accuses. “You...you fucked Wade’s wife?”

  “Technically, they weren’t married yet,” Henry corrects like the douchebag he is. “But—” Lucas moves in his direction.

  “You’re a sick fuck.” My hand lands on his shoulder, not needing to put a lot of pressure on it. He does what I silently ask and stops before extending an arm in Henry’s direction. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

  I shrug weakly. “You had enough problems.”

  “They’re our problems,” Phoebe conveys. “No more secrets.”

  “Shit—” Lucas rakes his hands through his matching dark hair. “—this bitch has her hand in everything.”

  “And she doesn’t want any support,” Em chimes in, eyes latching on to mine. She doesn’t need to say anything else because we both know that doesn’t sound like her, so there’s another alternative. “I think she wants to be taken off the birth certificate and sign over her rights because Nikolai doesn’t want her link to Henry nor another child that isn’t his.”

  “Then let her go,” I contest. “She’ll only fuck herself and save us all the trouble.”

  “There’s more,” Henry transmits. “Someone broke into my office last night. Security cameras picked up two men in black.”

  “So?”

  “My laptop is gone.”

  This stupid-ass motherfucker.

  “What was on it, old man?”

  “Emails from supporters—” She air quotes with her fingers. “—for when you became governor.”

  I cock my head to the side. “Saying, what, exactly?” Em glances down at Henry, who’s downing the rest of his whiskey.

  “More like blackmail,” he finally offers. “I had shit on these people, and they agreed to sway votes and their own people.”

  “That’s on you,” I snap. “I’m not involved in—”

  “But you are,” Em asserts. “Demi has her own shit I’m sure on the shady things you did.”

  “What did you do?” Phoebe presses next to me. A wave of shame and guilt washes over me. I’m not the big brother she used to look up to anymore. I’m the duplicate of my father but without the child—thank fuck.

  “I rigged the vote,” I deadpan.

  “Wade…”

  “Why would you do that?” Lucas exhorts. “You had a shot. You had—”

  “A wife who was fucking my dad and a baby she aborted without consulting me first. And not only was she screwing daddy dearest, but she was also fucking everything with the word ‘model’ or ‘rich’ on their résumé. I got the pleasure of walking in on a few...at one time.”

  Phoebe places her dainty hand on my back in support, aware that I don’t want to answer any more questions about it nor do I want any sympathy.

  “Demi is trying to gain power,” Em continues. “You won’t give her what she wants, she’ll find it somewhere else. Nikolai can make her royalty, get people to love her for the information she stole from the U.S.”

  “She’s getting restless,” Henry transmits. “She wants power.”

  I nod. “I’ll go down for the votes. Then we’ll go after her for what she did to Lucas, Phoebe, and shoving pills down Camila’s throat.”

  “Absolutely not,” Emmy retorts through knitted brows. “And, I’m sorry Lucas and Phoebe, but it’s not strong enough. People will think it’s you just making things up when she comes out with all of this.”

  Henry stands from the couch. “I’m going to out myself and the DNA test. Nikolai might not want her because it’s public knowledge that she has another baby from another man out of wedlock.”

  “DNA tests can be forged,” Lucas quips. “She goes down as a whore in the eyes of the public and then what?”

  I shake my head. “We can think of another way. I have special intelligence that can—”

  “This is our best option,” Em inserts. “It’ll tear her down on both fronts, both Russian and American. She will be a useless piece of space at that point.”

  Henry steps forward, looking between the three of us. “It’s my civic duty to protect this country...and my family.”

  “Don’t act all noble on us now,” I chide. “I’ve been taking care of myself since you got me into this mess. And they—”

  “You will go down as the president who was too blind to see what your wife was doing,” Em preaches. “That you are too ignorant with love to notice. That you can’t
run a country properly and you were a mistake. You will go to jail, Wade. The government will audit everything you did when running for governor. This will cause a scandal rivaling Bill Clinton. You didn’t fuck the intern, you fucked the state of Connecticut.”

  “Can’t you use your super-spy powers to make shit go away?” I taunt. “If I have to go down for—”

  “No.” Phoebe clutches my forearm, fingertips digging into my suit jacket. “You can’t.”

  “Chill out, Wade,” Lucas rebukes. “You never were dramatic unless I beat your ass in a video game. Don’t start now.”

  “There’s no way one of us won’t go down in order to bring her down,” I proclaim. “And it has to be me.”

  ♫ Sympathy — Too Close To Touch ♫

  Marty did the ultimate and took me to Wyoming, ten miles away from Yellowstone Park, and I saw my first buffalo. He rented out a cabin in the middle of a wooded area, and it’s beautiful. Rolling hills with trees and a small pond about three hundred yards away. The beds are adorned in bear and buffalo comforters, the kitchen is small but quaint, and there is a large stone fireplace in the family room. Wooden beams hang overhead with deer antler chandeliers and a large deck out in the back with a hot tub.

  I’m in heaven.

  Literally, I can’t believe that I’m here. And the best part is that Marty flew Mama in as a surprise. Our first family vacation and it’s the most at peace that I’ve felt in a long time. I’m not sure if it’s the clean air or that everything is so peaceful, but I’m exactly where I need to be to plan out the next step in my life, which is getting over what can’t be.

  “How many burgers, Rea?” Marty calls out to me from the deck. He found the grill, and it seems like every two hours he’s out using it. We never had one growing up, and he’s been fascinated with how much better everything tastes on it.

  “Two,” I yell back. “With cheese. Mama says one, but make her two also.”

  Mama chuckles next to me as we sit side by side on the couch, watching some reality show about families buying new houses or keeping their old one after it’s been renovated.