Defiance of the Heart (Book 2)

by Monica James

“No, please don’t.” My lower lip trembles as I curse history and how it has the uncanny ability to repeat itself. “I need time—”

  “No, fuck time!” he furiously interrupts, his pace quickening as I hear paging in the background. “We’ve had enough time. I am done.”

  “Done?” I’m almost afraid to ask.

  “Yes, fucking done with this! Bring your parents to my house. I’ll make sure mine are there. We are doing this once and for all.”

  “Wh-what?” I stumble not only over my words but my feet as well. I use the brick wall to support me from tripping over.

  But London’s truck engine roars to life, hinting this conversation is also done…for now.

  “Sweetie, there really is no need to take us out for dinner. After today, all I want is to get some takeout and have a night in.” I squirm in my seat, unable to make eye contact with my mom as she looks unknowingly over her shoulder at me.

  It’s because of today that I’m sitting in the back of my parents’ car, reminding myself why I’m doing this—for the greater good.

  “Your mother is right, Holland.” My dad clenches the steering wheel, hard eyes on the road. “So help me god, if I ever see Kayla, she will regret speaking to my girls that way.”

  I refrain from saying that he’ll get his wish soon enough. I’m certain my mom can smell the deceit pouring off me, but she smiles and turns back around.

  I had to lure my parents here on the falsehood that I had promised Chloe we’d all go out for dinner. After today, I said it was the perfect way to take my mind off things. I felt like a complete asshole for lying, but what other choice did I have?

  They won’t come willingly, so here’s hoping I can lead a horse to water…

  Sighing, I rub my temples because after this is over with, I’m going to sleep for a week. I have no idea what I’m walking into; based on London’s tone the last time I talked to him, things are about to get messy.

  When London’s modern apartment complex in Santa Monica comes into view, I rub my sweaty palms down my dress. I had the good sense to change because the next time I come face to face with Kayla, I’m going to be prepared.

  “Just park the car here, Dad.” I point up ahead to a row of parking spots just outside the front entrance where London told me to. He does but leaves the engine running.

  Unsnapping my belt, I gather all my strength and put my game face on. “Come in.” When my dad turns to look at me, clearly confused, I remember why I’m here. “Knowing Chloe, she won’t be ready. I don’t want you waiting out here.” My smile is strained, but I hope he reads it as just my frayed nerves after today.

  When there is silence, I claw my thighs through the thin material of my dress. If he refuses, I don’t know what I’ll do. My heart is racing, and a light sheen of perspiration gathers at the small of my back. This can’t fail.

  “Oh, she’s right.” When my mom unfastens her seat belt, I unclench my fists and steady my breathing. “Chloe will probably be waiting for us to tell her which handbag we like better.” One down, one to go.

  My father watches me closely; it’s apparent he senses something is amiss. I blame my suspicious nature on him.

  My mom reaches over him and switches off the car. “For Pete’s sake, Bobby, do you really want to look like some creep, sitting in an idling car?”

  Her feistiness has me smiling, which is exactly what I need to employ my courtroom smarts and slip on my perfect poker face. “She’s right, Dad. This is how every serial killer book starts.” A small smile tugs at his mouth.

  I step out of the car, internally crossing my fingers that my parents do as well. They do.

  Exhaling lightly, I lead the way to the entrance. London gave me the number to punch into the keypad to enter. Once I do, I hold the glass door open for them. “This is a lovely complex,” my mom says as we step into the bright, contemporary foyer.

  I nod, too afraid to speak.

  We catch the elevator to the fifth floor, and when the door opens and I’m greeted with the ocean views straight to the west and all the way up the Malibu coastline, I can’t shake the nostalgia of when I first saw it. I didn’t know what I was in for—kind of like now.

  As we walk the glassed hallway, my mother and father chat about the wonderful view. I allow them this moment of grace because when I arrive at door 515, I know there won’t be many of them for a while.

  Measuring my breaths, I brace my knuckles against the door and knock twice.

  Here we go. Please, let this work.

  When the door opens and London stands before me, tears instantly prick my eyes. I’m so happy to see him that this seems to be the only response I have. My parents, however, don’t share my sentiment.

  “What the hell?”

  London and I lock eyes, and for a fraction in time, the turmoil settles into the background, surrounding me with nothing but his warmth. When he skims his fingers down my cheek, I instinctively lean into his touch.

  “I missed you,” he confesses, uncaring my dad is about to explode.

  “I missed you, too. Are they here?” He nods, before stepping from the doorway to permit us entry. My father, sadly, has other ideas.

  “What is this? Holland, why is he here?” His confusion tears out my heart because I never wanted it to come to this.

  I peer up at London from under my lashes, afraid.

  “I’m here, Mr. Ferris, because this is my home. I asked Holland to bring you here.” London is my voice because mine has suddenly gone into hiding.

  “What on earth for?” he snaps, before adding, “You know what? It doesn’t matter. We’re not staying. Come on, Dee.”

  “No!” I spin so quickly, the world blurs before me. “Please stay. For me. I’m sorry I lied to you, but…”

  “That’s all you seem to be doing lately,” he says while I flinch, saddened.

  “That’s not true,” I argue, beseeching my father to listen. He’s so fucking stubborn. But I know that look. I see it every time I look in the mirror. “I’ve told you everything, but you haven’t wanted to listen. So please, listen now.”

  He has his arm around my mom, and just like always, he’s shielding her from harm. In a way, he and London aren’t so different after all. “Holland, is this some sort of an ambush?” my mother asks, visibly distressed.

  Oh god, I need to pull my shit together, but I can barely speak.

  London stands by my side, reaching for my hand. I glance down at the connection, and it gives me the strength I need. “This isn’t Holland’s doing, it’s mine. My parents are inside.”

  He’s just given them a heads-up, but my father doesn’t appreciate the sentiment. “There is no way I am stepping foot inside your home.”

  This is just going from bad to worse.

  But London is just as stubborn as my dad. “I understand, but I want you to know that I love your daughter. I always have.” My love for this man is immeasurable. I squeeze his fingers and smile. “I stayed away from her because I thought I was keeping her safe, but I wasn’t. What I should have done is what I’m going to do now.

  “You can kick my ass again once this is done, but I ask that now, you be the bigger man here. My parents are certainly not, but I’m desperate, Mr. Ferris. I can’t stand to see Holland hurt, and after today, this needs to end. I am going to be in your daughter’s life whether you like it or not. I’m sorry I’m not who you would choose for her, but when it comes to love, there isn’t a choice to make—it chooses you.”

  He looks down at me, his stormy eyes poignant. “And I choose Holland. Always.”

  I have no hope of keeping the tears at bay. He is saying this because after what his mom said, he wants me to know that she’s wrong. That I was right all along—this is forever.

  “And I choose you, London,” I whisper, salty tears slipping over my parted lips.

  “And that makes me the luckiest son of a bitch alive,” he counters, brushing away my sadness with the back of his hand.

  �
�Please,” I beg my parents, my hopeful gaze pinging from one to the other.

  My father is unmoved as he looks at London with nothing but contempt and at me with nothing but disappointment. But my mom, our forever peacemaker, looks down at my hand joined with London’s and sighs.

  “Okay.” And the world has hope once again.

  “Dee!” My dad turns to her, horrified.

  My mom shakes her head, gently shrugging from my father’s arms. “He’s right, Bobby. It’s time we ended this. And besides, Kayla had no right to speak to Holland that way. It’s evident she knows nothing.”

  A strangled sob catches in my throat because she has acknowledged London’s and my relationship as just that. She has accepted that this is real.

  “You’re right, Ms. Brooks, she doesn’t.” London needs to stop talking because I’m seconds away from climbing him like a tree. He recognizes the look and smirks. “Please, come in.”

  He steps aside, offering the olive branch, and my mom takes it.

  When she enters his home, she pulls back her shoulders and stands proud. She displays nothing but sheer strength—an invincible woman who won’t allow the ghosts of the past to haunt her anymore.

  My father is stuck between a rock and a hard place, but he won’t allow his wife to go into battle alone. Their devotion has never faltered after all these years, and it’s time Kayla lets this vendetta go. I can only hope when she sees them together, sees that their love is real, she will understand that what London said is true—love chooses you.

  He follows her, making sure to eyeball London on the way in. London blows out a silent breath, probably thankful he’s still standing as he closes the door.

  We stand, waiting for him to show us the way because, to keep Kayla here, he may have resorted to tying her down. The image leaves me grinning.

  He leads us into his beautiful home, and it’s evident my parents are impressed with what they see. The floor-to-ceiling windows make the space bright and cozy. The painting on the far wall in the living room catches my eye once again as I will never forget that sycamore tree flourishing beneath that star-filled sky.

  However, all beauty is long forgotten when London’s parents rise slowly from where they sit on the white leather couch.

  “Bobby?”

  My father’s name passing through Kayla Sinclair’s coral painted lips has me gnashing my teeth. She has no right to speak it, and she especially has no right to look at him the way that she is. But I rein in my anger.

  My mom steps beside my father protectively. “Hello, Ralphie.”

  London’s father clears his throat as he adjusts the collar on his polo. He is clearly nervous. “Hello, Dee. Bobby.” He nods at my dad, who nods firmly back.

  I stand on the sidelines, biting my thumbnail as I watch this unfold. This is so fucking awkward to watch, but I suppose it’s better than seeing a catfight.

  Kayla doesn’t even seem to acknowledge anyone else’s presence but my dad’s, and I can’t help but note how different their coupling is. My parents are huddled close, providing support to the other, while London’s parents barely seem to notice the other is standing in the same room.

  Kayla commences a slow walk toward my father, eyes wide and mouth parted. I’ve not seen this look on her face before. She looks…almost giddy.

  The last time they saw one another, I believe, was when London and I got arrested. Harsh words were spoken, but now, the sunshine has somehow shone a different light on my father. “That’s far enough.” It’s my mom who bursts her bubble, and I refrain from bursting into an amen!

  Kayla is jolted to a stop, her happiness soon disappearing. “You owe my daughter an apology. What you said to her today was clearly untrue. London’s loyalty to Holland is more than evident.”

  A warmth spreads from head to toe, followed by a trace of cinnamon which whets my appetite. I know without looking that London stands beside me.

  “London’s loyalty should be to his family…but I suppose”—Kayla’s lips twist into a sinister grin—“she is the reason London was born in the first place.”

  “Kayla, that is enough!” my father shouts, which has me drawing my eyebrows together in confusion.

  But she is not deterred. “On the contrary, Bobby, I’m just getting started.”

  I don’t know why, but a sheet of panic passes over me. My father suddenly pales. Oh, fuck. What’s going on?

  “I’ve kept our secret for long enough, don’t you think?” Kayla smugly says, arching a challenging brow.

  “What secret? Bobby, what’s she talking about?” my mom asks, turning to look at him, beseeching him to tell her what’s going on. In response, he sighs as he runs a hand down his exhausted face.

  I barely move, too transfixed by the scene in front of me. London’s shallow breaths hint at his utter entrancement as well.

  “Oh, Dee, you were always so innocent, so naïve. No wonder Bobby was able to fool you the way he did,” Kayla belittles, smirking a full toothed smile. “I’ve always wondered if you told her.”

  “Told me what?” my mother all but yells.

  My dad takes a steadying breath while I remind myself to do the same. “Dee…”

  But it appears Kayla has to have the last word as she cuts off my father. “I really like him, Dee, and I think he likes me too,” Kayla says in an alien voice because it’s sweet and adolescent. I understand why a moment later. “Do you remember when I said that to you the night of Bobby’s party?”

  My mom nods slowly while my father cups the back of his neck as he peers up at the ceiling. Seeking divine intervention maybe?

  “Well, the reason I thought that was because the moment your back was turned, he showed me just how much he really did like me. Isn’t that right, Bobby?”

  This is the moment my dad tells Kayla Sinclair to go back to the hole she crawled out of, but he doesn’t. Instead, he peers down at my mom and breaks both our hearts. “I’m so sorry, Dee. I wanted to tell you, but it didn’t mean anything to me.”

  “What didn’t mean anything to you?” she asks while I suddenly feel sick. Is Kayla implying that she got to my dad first? That she slept with him on the same night my mom did? The night both London and I were conceived.

  No, this can’t be true because if that were true…I look up at London who appears to have just connected the dots also.

  His confession pains him. “Kayla and I…fooled around the night of the party, but…”

  “What?” my mother gasps while I cover my mouth to hold back my vomit.

  “She kissed me,” he continues in a rushed breath. “And I kissed her back. I didn’t think you were interested. I was an idiot.” He tugs at his hair in frustration.

  “Kissing isn’t the only thing we did,” Kayla declares with triumph. Ralphie stands quiet, unmoved by Kayla’s revelation. But I suppose he always knew he was second pick.

  “Bobby, why didn’t you tell me? When I came into your room, I asked about Kayla, and your words were, ‘I like her, but…she’s not you,’” my mom says, shaking her head, enraged. “How could you say that to me after what you did with her? I should have questioned myself because you admitted to liking her.”

  Time-out. What exactly did he do?

  “Yes, Bobby, how could you? You liked me enough when I was down on my knees before you,” Kayla states boldly while I’m moments away from losing my lunch. London’s lip curls in disgust as he takes a small step backward. “I recall you telling me just how much you liked me, and that you wanted to see where things were headed. Or did you just say that to get into my pants?”

  “That was my error of judgment,” he says, finally meeting Kayla’s cold stare.

  This is like a game of emotional ping pong as London and I switch attention between our parents.

  “And so was your decision.” Kayla arrogantly strolls toward my stunned parents. This is her day. “You only stayed with Dee because she was pregnant with your child, which is ironic, considering my son, who you ha
te the most in the world, is in the same predicament as you. Who knew you had more in common than you thought.”

  “That’s untrue! I love Dee. I always have,” my father passionately claims. “Don’t listen to her lies, Dee.”

  I can’t stand this a second longer. I need to know. “Dad, did you sleep…with her?”

  My father turns to me, embarrassed and ashamed. I will never look at him in the same light. My hero, the man who can do no wrong in my eyes, has just shattered that illusion forever.

  Kayla’s attention flicks my way as though she’s only just realized we are here. “That would be poetic justice, but no. I would never have allowed”—she gestures two fingers between London and me with revulsion—“this if I had.”

  A loud, relieved sigh escapes me.

  “But now you can see that your parents’ fairy-tale life isn’t so perfect after all. They only stayed together because of you,” she spits, revealing the real reason her hatred for me runs so deep.

  In her eyes, I’m the reason for all that’s wrong with her life. If I had never been born, maybe she’d have a shot with my dad. Two best friends, fighting over the same guy. It’s how every good book begins…

  She claims that, because of my birth, my father did what was right and that was to stay with my mom. But I refuse to believe I’m the only reason they stayed together. Their love and devotion for one another is clear. Not once have I ever doubted that what they share is real.

  “I’ve kept this secret for so long, waiting for the perfect time…so thank you, London, for organizing this little get-together.” London lowers his chin to his chest, humiliated. By attempting to fix things, we’ve somehow made things a shitload worse.

  “Now it’s your turn to feel like a cheap whore,” Kayla snarls at my father. “You’re not without fault, Dee. You knew how I felt about him, yet you didn’t care. You broke the cardinal rule of any friendship—don’t sleep with your best friend’s crush.”

  This is just too much.

  I shouldn’t feel sorry for Kayla, but a small part of me does. This entire time, I thought she was overreacting, seeing as she and my father hadn’t even kissed. But I’ve been wrong. So wrong. He used her, and then he slept with my mom all in the same night—a night which changed all our lives forever.