Bittersweet (Redemption Book 3)

by Jessica Prince

  “Did . . .” I swallowed, that burn in my eyes coming back with a vengeance as I stared at the closed door. “Did your mom really just call me a slut and a thief?”

  “Hey, look at me.” I felt too much shame, I couldn’t bring myself to look at him, but he didn’t give me a choice, placing his fingers beneath my chin and gently turning my face to his. “Don’t listen to a word she says. She’s a hateful bitch. Always has been. Don’t let her get to you.”

  “I think I should go,” I whispered. “I want to go, Jensen.”

  He couldn’t hide the expression on his face, it was sadness mixed with anger. I didn’t need him to speak to know what he was feeling. He wasn’t ready for me to go; like me, he wanted to drain every minute out of our time together. He was also pissed off his mom had crashed the party and insulted me in the process.

  “Okay, sunshine. Get dressed and I’ll walk you out.”

  I didn’t think I’d ever gotten dressed so fast in my life. After what had happened between us earlier, all I’d wanted to do was lay in his arms, protected in our own little bubble while the rest of the world floated away. Now all I could think about doing was getting the hell out of there.

  He walked me to my car, holding me against him as he leaned in to give me a slow, deep kiss. I loved the kiss, but I hated that it was goodbye, even if it was only for a short time.

  “I’ll text you later, baby. Love you.”

  “Love you too,” I replied, curling up on my toes and giving him one last peck before climbing in my car. As I drove away, I played his mother’s words in my head over and over. I’d always tried not to judge someone by our first encounter, knowing those weren’t always the best, but there was something in my gut that was telling me she wasn’t a good person.

  Maybe my aunt wasn’t full of crap. Maybe human beings really did put off energy, and there were some people out there who were sensitive enough read them clearly. But whether that was the case or not, whatever that woman was putting off, it was all kinds of negative. I didn’t need to be sensitive to know I’d just had a run-in with someone seriously nasty.

  Jensen

  Eighteen years old

  I was lying on my bed, eyes to the ceiling as the music flowed out of my earbuds and Shane’s sweet scent drifted off my sheets, surrounding me from all sides. It was like being in my own little cocoon, serene and peaceful, when my bedroom door flew open, crashing into the wall behind it and taking a sledgehammer to my calm.

  I turned my head just in time to see my father storming toward me. Reaching out, he ripped the earbuds from my ears and barked, “Who is she?”

  I sat up, stunned by his sudden appearance. Usually, he never set foot in my room. When he wanted to rip into me, he always summoned me to him. This was out of character, and I wasn’t fully prepared. I didn’t have time to numb myself to whatever this was. “What?”

  “You heard me. The girl. Who is she?”

  Shit. I worked to keep my tone neutral even as my heart started to pound and the blood began rushing in my ears. “She’s no one, just a girl.”

  “I asked for a name, Jensen. Don’t make me repeat myself.”

  Fuck. I didn’t want to give him a name. I didn’t want him to know anything about her, but I knew refusing would be pointless. He’d just find out on his own. “Shane Hendrix.”

  “Hendrix?” he gaped. “As in the maid’s kid?” He threw his head back on a loud, caustic laugh. “You’re fucking the help now?”

  Fury made my blood sing. My insides started to heat to an almost unbearable level, but I fought to keep calm and show no outward emotion. “They aren’t called maids, the term is housekeeper,” I spat, suddenly feeling the same indignation Shane must have when I referred to her aunt as a maid months back. “And I’m not fucking the help. That’s you and Mom’s thing. Not mine. Besides, Shane doesn’t work for us. Her aunt does.”

  His gaze turned shrewd, making my skin prickle. “You sure seem defensive of a girl you claim means nothing to you.”

  “I’m not defensive of shit,” I lied, biting the inside of my cheek to keep the truth from spilling out. “Like I said, she’s just a girl.”

  He crossed his arms, looking like the condescending prick he was. “That’s not what your mother seemed to think. She said she saw you down in the driveway next to a piece-of-shit car, and it looked like you too were close. Very close.”

  “Mom’s a wino and a pillhead,” I said as I reached for my headphones. “She doesn’t know what the hell she saw.”

  This time my dad grabbed them and my phone and threw them both across the room. “You’ll watch how you talk about your mother while you’re under my roof, boy.”

  I felt that indignation bubbling up in my gut, coating my words in sarcasm as I asked, “Is anything I just said a lie?”

  “That’s not the point. The point is, you have no business getting involved with some white-trash townie, not when you’ll be graduating soon and leaving for Columbia in a matter of months. You need to concentrate on the future.”

  I hadn’t bothered to tell him I had no intention of going to Columbia. Or Yale. Or any of the other bullshit Ivy Leagues he’d pulled strings to get me accepted to. Once I graduated in a month I was done with him and his bitch of a wife and this goddamn house. He could keep his money, I’d make my own way. I didn’t care how I did it as long as I never had to see either of them again. All I needed was Shane. As long as I had her, nothing else mattered.

  “You’re getting worked up over nothing. You don’t have anything to worry about.”

  He wasn’t buying it, I could tell by the gleam in his evil eyes. “Then you won’t have a problem ending it with her.”

  “That’s not gonna happen,” I snapped, playing right into my father’s hand so easily he didn’t even need to break a sweat.

  The son of a bitch grinned like he’d just bested everyone on a cheesy gameshow. “That’s what I thought.” He turned and started for the door, speaking over his shoulder. “That’s wasn’t a request, Jensen. That was an order. You’ll end it with that girl, and you’ll do it tomorrow. I won’t let you tarnish this family’s name and reputation by associating with some backwoods trash. Roses only mingle with class,” he stated, like I was nothing more than a stud horse kept around for breeding and increasing the bloodline—which I guess was an accurate depiction of how he saw me. “I won’t risk you knocking this girl up so she’s tied to our family for the next eighteen years. Break up with the bitch.”

  I threw my legs over and stood to my feet. “Don’t you ever call her a bitch again,” I growled, that all too familiar rage building up inside of me. “I said I’m not ending it. There isn’t shit you can do about it so you might as well just deal.”

  He turned slowly, the vein in his forehead starting to throb. “You think there’s nothing I can do about it?” he asked in a chilling whisper. “Have you forgotten who I am?”

  I hadn’t forgotten. He’d never let me. Whitman Rose, district attorney on his way to judge. He had power, he’d already shoved that fact down my throat. But when it came to Shane Hendrix, I didn’t give a fuck. “You aren’t ready to play with the big boys, so I suggest you learn your place and mind yourself.”

  “Fuck you,” I bit out. “Fuck your ‘power’ and your connections. There isn’t a goddamn thing you can do or say that will make me leave her.”

  His face grew that same mottled red it did every time I pushed him to the line. “Who the fuck do you think you are, you little shit?” he snarled as he rushed me, stopping only an inch away. “You’ll do what I say when I say or I’ll make sure you lose everything. I don’t care if you are my son.”

  “Then take it,” I fired back. “The car, the clothes, the credit cards. I don’t give a shit. Take it all, you miserable old bastard. See if I fucking care.”

  His fists clenched and I knew exactly what would happen next if I didn’t watch it. But I was too far gone. All I saw was red. All I could think of was how desperate I w
as to keep Shane. I didn’t care about the repercussions. I came by my anger issues honestly, getting them right from my old man, so when we went head-to-head, the results were ghastly.

  “I’ll make you regret ever being born.”

  “Too late, motherfucker.”

  And with that, I shoved him right over the line.

  My brain felt like it had been scrambled, when I breathed it felt like someone had poured gasoline into my lungs and lit a match, and every step I took was a lesson in torture. But I kept going.

  I was done. Gone. As of tonight, it was over. Once I came to on my bedroom floor and was able to move, I’d shoved some clothes into the backpack I used for school and walked out, leaving behind my car and phone and anything else that belonged to him.

  The walk from my parents’ place to the Hendrix household was only a little over five miles, and usually I could have done that no problem. But my father had literally just beat me unconscious, so the walk was agony.

  I could have stopped him. There was a part of me—a big part—that wanted to do exactly that. It was only by the grace of God that I’d managed to hold back. Because I knew what he’d do. If I had lifted a hand to defend myself or left a single mark on him, he’d have called the cops without so much as blinking.

  I was eighteen years old. I would have been fucked. So I took my beating and didn’t fight back. For once he’d been the one to lose control. For once I hadn’t given him what he wanted. I hadn’t played into his hand. And for once he lost a bit of that power he held so tightly to.

  Now I was free.

  The sigh of relief I let out when Shane’s house came into view rattled a bit, and spots started dancing before my eyes. But it was just a little farther. Only a few yards. I could make it. I would make it.

  The door opened almost as soon as I finished knocking, and in spite of the pain, in spite of everything that had happened over the past few hours, I felt a peace glide over me that I’d never felt in my life, and I knew without having to question it, that it was the peace that came with knowing you were home.

  Chapter Fifteen

  Jensen

  It hadn’t taken me and the guys long to get the answers I was looking for the night before, and by the time I pulled up in front of the sprawling mansion with its perfectly manicured lawn, lush flowerbeds, and artfully designed topiaries, I was seconds away from losing my shit.

  I beat on the front door with the side of my fist, not giving the first fuck if it was considered rude. The door opened seconds later and the woman who’d birthed me but had never been a mother stared up at me in shock. It looked like she’s aged a decade and a half in the years I’d been gone, and I didn’t feel the slightest bit bad for finding humor in that. Guess all the pills and wine had finally beaten out anything plastic surgery could do.

  “Jensen,” she breathed, her eyes wide. “What are you—how did you—I mean, it’s good to see you.”

  The feeling definitely wasn’t mutual. “Where is he?” I growled, making her jerk back in fright.

  “Wh-who?”

  “Don’t play that bullshit game. You know who I’m talking about. Now where the fuck is he?”

  I didn’t give her a chance to reply before barreling past her, giving her no choice but to skitter out of my way to keep from being mowed down. She called after me as I took the stairs two at a time, but I didn’t bother turning around.

  I made it to the office and lifted my booted foot, kicking the door open with a crash.

  My father shot up from his desk. “What in the world? Jensen? What the hell are you doing? A simple knock would have sufficed. There was no need to storm in here and make a scene.”

  “Where the fuck is it?”

  “Watch the way you speak to me in my own house, boy.” He still had the same bluster, the same condescending attitude, the same air of superiority he had all those years ago. None of that had changed. In fact, the only difference in him that I noticed was that he looked harder than he had before. The grooves at the corner of his eyes and mouth from his perpetual scowl were deeper than they used to be. The effects of the life he was living were written all over his face.

  The games time played on a person’s memories were sometimes astounding. I remembered him being so much bigger. In my mind he seemed larger than life. But looking at him now, he was just a man. We were no longer equal in size, my time in the Army had made damn sure of that. But that wasn’t the only thing that had changed. He didn’t know it, but he was about to learn that the power had shifted in a big fucking way.

  “I don’t have any clue what you’re talking about.”

  “I think you do,” I said in a low, menacing voice. “I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.”

  “Well, not that it’s much of a surprise, but you’d be wrong. Now you can show yourself out. I’ll send you a bill for the damage you did to my door.”

  “Why don’t you just use the money you stole from my fuckin’ family,” I barked, charging around the desk so fast the old man stumbled backward. He wasn’t fast enough to escape me, and I used the advantage I got when he tripped over his chair to grab him by the throat and jerk him up, pinning him against the bookshelves built into the wall behind his desk. “We had a deal, motherfucker. And you broke it.”

  I wasn’t squeezing hard enough to do any damage, but it was still enough to send fear flickering through his eyes. I was stronger than him now, so no matter how hard he fought, he couldn’t break my hold.

  “I know you took the money from the account I set up for Shane and our son. I know you didn’t hold up your end of the bargain when I left. I’ve got guys following the trail as we speak, and it’s only a matter of time before they find what you did with it.”

  “Get your hands off me,” he croaked. “I’ll call the police.”

  “Call them,” I dared, leaning closer and squeezing a bit tighter. “Please do it, ’cause I’d love to see how they’d react to all the shit I’ve got on you.”

  “You don’t have anything,” he rasped, trying to suck air in through his mouth.

  “See, that’s where you’re wrong, old man. Biggest mistake you made was thinkin’ sending me off to the Army was gonna be the answer to all your problems. You see, I made my own connections while I was in there. Mine don’t necessarily have the money or the status that yours do, but my connections have something your guys lack. See, the team I was a part of, the men I got to know, the brothers I made; they’re really fucking good at finding shit. Shit people don’t want anyone else to ever find. Shit that some might think is buried so deep it can never be dug up. My connections, they know how to dig deeper. There isn’t anything they can’t find.”

  The fear in his eyes no longer had anything to do with the fact that I was oh so slowly making it harder for him to breathe. “Say, like when a DA’s gotten himself over a barrel and the only way to pull himself out of the financial clusterfuck he’s created is to take bribes from some really nasty men, the scum of the earth really, helping them get off by throwing the cases he’s prosecuting.”

  Whit made a garbling sound as his face started to turn purple. “Yeah, I think you get it what I’m sayin’. So please, go ahead and call the cops. That’ll make this little visit very interesting.”

  “I-I don’t have it. I don’t have the money,” he sputtered frantically. “It’s gone.”

  “Then it looks like you have your work cut out for you in getting it back.”

  I let him go, stepping back as he crumpled to the floor, sucking in big, heaving breaths as he rubbed at his neck.

  “I suggest you get started on that real fuckin’ fast,” I said as I started for the door. I stopped at the threshold and looked back at the pathetic excuse of a man that was hunkered against the expensive-as-hell bookcase he’d had specially made for this ridiculous office. “Oh, and just in case you get any crazy ideas, you should know, another skill my connections have—one that I just so happened to acquire as well: we don’t mind getting
our hands dirty, unlike the pussies you know. And when we hide a body, it’ll never turn up. Who has the power now, motherfucker?”

  My mother was still standing where I’d left her at the foot of the stairs when I came walking down, clutching her necklace and fidgeting from side to side. “Jensen,” she said, her voice pleading. “Son, can we talk?”

  “Got nothing to say to you, woman, other than to tell you I am not your son.”

  On that, I walked out of that godforsaken house, only this time, I did it with the biggest fucking smile on my face.

  Jensen

  Eighteen years old

  I wasn’t sure exactly how long I’d been out. I remembered Caroline answering the door and yelling for Scooter at the sight of me, then everything went black. But now I could feel myself slowly sinking into consciousness, the muffled sound of voices becoming louder and clearer at the same time the pain in my body made itself know, reminding me of where I was and what had happened.

  “I don’t understand why we’re waitin’. We shoulda called the cops the moment he collapsed face first on the entryway floor.”

  So that explains the new, sharper pain in my nose. If it hadn’t been broken before, it certainly was now.

  “Just wait till the boy wakes up.” I recognized that voice as Scooter Hendrix, which meant the woman’s voice belonged to Caroline.

  “Screw that. This boy’s aura is all kinds of black.” Yep, definitely Caroline. “I’m callin’ them now.”

  That snapped me all the way into reality. I quickly blinked my eyes opened, muttering, “No cops,” as I took in all three faces hovered around me. Scooter, Caroline, and a glassy-eyed Shane who was sitting on the edge of the bed.

  She leaned in, smiling wobbly as she reached up to brush the hair off my forehead. “Hey, you’re awake. You scared the crap out of me, you know.” She was going for light and funny, but I could see the tears welling up in her eyes as they skated across my bruised and swollen face.