I looked down at the pad of heavy drawing paper and gasped. It was another sketch of me sleeping like the last one he did, but this time it was really something special. He'd drawn me from the shoulders up, sleeping peacefully on my side with a hand curled up by my face. My hair fell in a soft cascade around me with small white flowers laced through the strands. Vines were twined around me too, curling and sweeping around my arms and face, the same beautiful little flowers dotted along their lengths. The portrait was ethereal and had a magical quality to it that drew me in. It was breathtaking.
"Oh, Ford," I whispered out emotionally. "It's so beautiful."
"Of course, it's beautiful," he said matter-of factly. "It's you."
I pressed my lips together as tears swam in my eyes, my love for him almost overwhelming my heart. Please don't let this man be taken away from me. I reined in my flash of weakness, not wanting to ruin this perfect moment with the world that threatened us outside this room.
The doorbell rang, and just like that it was ruined anyway. Fear ghosted across Ford's face as it gripped my heart in icy dread. I irrationally wished we could just run away together, and never come back.
"I can get it," I said in an even voice as I tried to keep it together for Ford's sake. "Just let me get dressed." I set the sketch pad on the coffee table.
He shook his head. "I don't think that's a good idea, Jen." He looked meaningfully at my arms with a worried expression. I glanced down to see the still visible rope marks on the skin of my arms and wrists. They were fading, but still identifiable as what they were. The last thing we needed was someone seeing it and questioning it, especially the press. I didn't think it was the police at the door. Gareth was supposed to give us a heads up before they showed up again, but who's to say they'd bother to let him know.
"Okay," I nodded as I flung the blanket off and stood. "I'll go hide in the bedroom."
"I'm so sorry," Ford whispered guiltily with a pained expression as he rose from his chair.
"Stop that," I leveled a hard stare at him. "No more apologies. We're in this together. Right?"
He nodded and smiled wanly. "Right." He came closer and kissed my temple, then turned to walk toward the stairway down to his front door.
I hurriedly crossed to his bedroom and shut the door behind me as I entered. I sighed as I leaned back against it, feeling lost and afraid again. I took in few deep breaths to calm myself, then went to my bag to pull out a hair tie, a tank top, and yoga pants. I dressed hurriedly, pulled my hair up into a loose ponytail, and sat on the bed to wait. Part of me was half afraid that he was being arrested and taken from me again at this very moment. Thankfully, after a few minutes the bedroom door eased open slightly, and Ford stuck his head in.
"It's okay, Jen," he said with a relieved expression. "It's just Nick. You can come out."
A wave of relief hit me, and I rose to my feet in a rush to follow him out of the room. I noticed Ford's friend and mentor Nick standing over the sketch book that was still on the coffee table. He was looking down at Ford's portrait of me as he slipped his phone into his back pocket. He looked up and gave me a soft smile as he noticed me walk in.
Nick Pedrosa was a beautiful man with tan olive skin, striking amber eyes, a strong nose, and dark expressive brows. He had an exotic quality about him that I'm sure had everything to do with being originally from Brazil. The short thick tousle of mostly gray hair on his head just begged to be touched. He was quite a bit shorter than Ford, but he was fit, his muscled and tattooed arms bulging out from under his black T-shirt nicely. I wasn't usually into middle-aged men, but if I was available, and he wasn't married, I'd be tempted to make an exception for Nick. His wife was a very lucky woman. I know I loved Ford, and he was the most gorgeous man in the world to me, but I'd have to be dead not to find Nick attractive. Wisely, I never planned to tell Ford any of that.
"Olá," he greeted me warmly in Portuguese. He came up, gripped my shoulders gently, and gave me an air kiss on first the right and then my left cheek. I'd never been greeted like this before, and I kind of liked it. It must be a Brazilian thing. His thick salt and pepper beard stubble felt good as it brushed against my soft skin, and my God, he smelled divine, all musky and masculine. It was downright swoon worthy.
He held me out at arm's length and eyed me closely. "Are you alright, irmãzinha?" he asked in his sexy Brazilian accent. His gaze was filled with genuine concern, and I think a little protectiveness. It looked familiar, because it was the same way that Dad looked at me when I was obviously upset. Shit, he probably wasn't much younger than my father, and here I was sizing him up like a piece of fresh meat when he certainly didn't think that way about me at all. Color me chagrined.
"I'm okay," I said with a soft smile, pushing down my sudden embarrassment and hoping I didn't blush. "Just really tired."
He nodded then looked to Ford. "And you, irmão?" He approached Ford and reached up to put a comforting hand on his shoulder.
Ford's lips pressed together, and he shrugged. "I've been better," he grumbled quietly.
"I saw the news report and rushed over here as soon as I could," Nick replied worriedly. "I tried to call but it went to voice mail."
"I'm sorry I didn't answer," he said guiltily. "I'm not supposed to talk about the case, and I...and I was afraid that...that you'd..." He trailed off and stared at the floor looking lost.
Nick's eyes looked confused for a moment, then his eyes narrowed in on Ford. "You were afraid I'd think you were guilty?" He stared at Ford incredulously. "Why would you think that, irmão? I've known you for over a decade. I know the kind of man you are." His gaze hardened with certainty. "Not for one fucking second would I ever think you were capable of something like this."
"I'm...I'm sorry, Nick," Ford said thickly with regret. Tears swam in his eyes. "Between the cops treating me like I'm guilty, and my goddamn father showing up to question my innocence, I...I just didn't want to risk someone looking at me like that again." A sob managed to escape from his lips, and Ford dropped onto the couch and covered his face. "I'm sorry, Jen," he murmured out weakly in shame. "I'm trying to be strong like you, but I can't seem to keep it together."
I watched him sob softly, and it broke my heart. I rushed over to sit next to him. "Why are you trying to hold it in?" I asked softly. "This is a horrible situation, and it's okay to let it out, baby. You're safe here." I glanced over to see Nick sit on the opposite side of Ford with a grave thoughtful expression.
"I used to buy into that machismo bullshit I'd been fed before, and even after I came to this country as a teenager," Nick said in a slightly disgusted tone. "Real men don't show emotion or cry. Real men are always strong and in control," he said sarcastically. "It's what drew me to be a Dom in the first place in my early twenties. Thankfully, I was fortunate enough to be mentored by a Dom who completely disagreed with those asinine ideas. I learned fairly quickly that I was an ignorant asshole who didn't have a clue what a real man was. I learned the error of my ways, and if I had been that asshole when I met Holly, she'd have kicked my ass and sent me packing.
"A good man, and by extension a good Dom, is not egotistical, entitled, domineering, or emotionally shut down. He is loving, compassionate, and loyal. He is responsible, respectful, and patient. He is humble and self-aware, and always honest with himself and about his own feelings, the good and the bad. It's that acceptance of self that allows a man to express his emotions without doubting himself and his manhood, and to stop thinking he has to smother it down to truly be strong and in control.
"Crying is not weakness, Ford." He put a gentle hand on Ford's shoulder. His eyes were bright and sincere. "It is necessary and cathartic, especially when it feels like the world is crashing down on you. Letting the people you love and trust be there for you and support you when you need them is not weakness either. So let it out without shame, irmão. Like your Jenny said, you're safe here."
Ford finally raised his head to look at Nick. Tears were still glittering in
his eyes. "I'm afraid I'm going to lose everything, Nick." He grabbed my hand in a death grip. "Everything." He lifted my hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. "I finally got everything I wanted, and now I might have it taken from me."
Now tears were streaming from my eyes. I scooted closer and leaned against him. "Me too," I whimpered softly, realizing I needed to stop thinking I had to be strong all the time too and trying to hold it in for Ford. It wasn't helping either if us. "I don't want to be without you," I sobbed out as I squeezed Ford's hand in return.
"I know you can't talk about what's happening in any detail, but I'm here for both of you nevertheless." His warm sympathetic eyes flashed between both of us. "I wish I could say something that could make everything better, or take away your fear and worry, but I want you to know this. There is always room for hope, no matter how dark or impossible things seem. All you can do when things go to hell is hold on to that hope to get you through each moment, and lean on the people who love you and believe in you."
No wonder Ford looked up to him so much. The man was inspiring, and everything Ford's own father should have been for him right now. Thank God for Nick.
"I'm really struggling, Nick." More tears trickled down Ford's face. "I've never been so terrified in my life, and the hope is so hard to focus on. I could lose my business, my freedom," he put an arm around me and pulled me in closer, "and my future."
"You haven't lost anything yet," he answered in an understanding tone. "Don't lose all hope by focusing on the bad things that might not even happen."
"I'm trying," Ford replied in a tense emotional tone. "I really am, but it's hard when you could lose what you love most in this world." He leaned his cheek on my head. More tears dripped down my cheeks, this time because of the love that welled up inside me over Ford's sweet words.
"All you can do is try, irmão."
Ford nodded, and didn't say anything else. He just held me close, like I could slip away from him any second. It made me feel safe and protected from the world that threatened us. If only that was true.
After a long moment, Nick spoke again. "I have to get back to the shop." Nick ran his own tattoo shop, Solid Stone Ink. It was where Ford learned to do tattoos, and where he worked before opening his own place.
"Alright," Ford said as he went to stand up.
"I can let myself out," Nick said as he held his hand up to stop Ford from getting up. "If you need me, call me."
"Thanks, Nick," Ford told him gratefully with a wan smile.
"Yeah, thank you," I added with a nod.
"De nada," Nick smiled warmly. "I'll see you later." He waved and walked out.
We sat holding each other for several long moments before I spoke. "You're really lucky to have a friend like Nick."
"I'm really lucky to have a lot of things, honey," he replied in a small voice as he looked at me with a sad smile. He pulled me into his lap, and hugged me close again.
"So am I," I agreed softly, feeling lost again.
Nick's advice was spot on and uplifting, but now that he was gone, it felt like hope was a nebulous thing. It just kept slipping out of our hands the more we tried to grasp it, and I feared that we'd both be left with nothing when our luck finally ran out.
**********
It was painful leaving Ford to go to work the next morning. When I walked out he was looking around his living room like he didn't know what to do with himself. Ford wasn't the kind of man who just sat around, and I knew it was difficult for him to be at loose ends like this. Unfortunately, there wasn't anything I could do to help him, and I couldn't keep staying home with him. I had to work.
I'd barely sat down at my desk after I got to my office, when I noticed Andy in the doorway. "Hey," he said softly.
"Hey, yourself," I replied with a small smile. It was all I could manage.
He walked in and closed the door. "How's Ford?" he asked worriedly.
I let out a big sigh. "Lost and terrified. I'm really worried about him."
"Has Gareth found out anything yet?" He sat across from me, leaning forward with a grave expression. "Did he find out what Carter is doing to this woman to get her go along with this bullshit?"
"He has an investigator looking into it, but we haven't heard anything yet," I answered in a frustrated tone. "I guess these things take time."
Andy growled in irritation. "Can't we do something for him?" He pressed his lips together thoughtfully. "Maybe we should look up this Sarina woman and talk to her. Maybe we could get her to take back what she said."
"Have you lost your mind, Andy?" I asked him incredulously. "We can't do that."
"Why not?" he asked indignantly. "Someone needs to do something to help Ford."
"Gareth is doing that, Andy," I answered with exasperation. "He's a lawyer, and he knows what he's doing. We have to let him do his job."
"If we got this Sarina to recant her claims, we wouldn't even need a fucking lawyer," he grumbled out.
"Andy." I shook my head in disbelief. "We could fuck up the whole case. And if Gareth found out he'd be livid."
"He doesn't need to know," Andy answered vehemently. "This Sarina chick doesn't even need to know who we really are."
"Gee, that doesn't sound like an idiotic idea at all," I said sarcastically as I stared at Andy sharply.
"I just want to help him," Andy said in quiet desperation as he slumped back into his chair.
"I know, Andy." My voice was gentler. "So do I, but we can't risk hurting his case."
"Have you heard from Carter?" he asked. "A call, or a text, or something? I figured he'd want to gloat about this. We could use that against him."
"He's not that stupid, Andy." I leaned back in my chair with a sigh. "He hasn't gotten away with everything he's done for this long by making mistakes like that. He may be a vindictive evil bastard, but he's not going to do something dumb to incriminate himself."
A cunning devious look came over my brother's face, making his eyes gleam. I recognized it immediately. Andy was always ready to hatch a scheme, and this was not the time for any of that insanity.
"Don't even start thinking about messing with Carter." I pointed a warning finger at him. "We're staying out of this. We're not risking Ford's future by doing something stupid ourselves."
He glared at me, but I stared right back stubbornly. "Fine," he growled at me. He huffed out a breath. "I feel so fucking helpless, Jenny. I just want to do something, help in some way. This shouldn't be happening to him. He stuck his neck out to help save our dealership, and this how he gets repaid? It's not fucking right."
My brother felt guilty. It was a feeling I was intimately familiar with since I'd been dealing with it myself. I'd felt it since the police arrested Ford on Tuesday. I'd been trying to ignore it as it nibbled away at my mind ever since. No matter how I tried to ignore it, it still weighed on me whether I liked it or not.
We sat in silence for a few minutes, both of us stewing in our guilt. I guess I should be grateful I wasn't the only one feeling this way.
"Dad saw the news report last night," Andy announced suddenly.
"Oh?" I asked in a panicked voice. What if Dad believed those lies? "What did he say?"
"Jenny," he said scoldingly. "He knows these allegations are complete fucking bullshit. I know I probably shouldn't have, but I told him our suspicions about Carter being behind this. He needed to know. He feels terrible since he invited Carter here in the first place. I told him that was ridiculous since he had no way of knowing what Carter would do. Of course, I'm a hypocrite who feels the same way."
"So do I," I sighed out, feeling relieved that Dad believed in Ford's innocence. I suddenly wondered what everyone else here at work thought. "Has anybody else been talking about it here?"
"Not that I've heard, but I've walked into a room a time or two to some really awkward silence," he said in disgust. "I'm pretty sure people are talking about it, but they're not dumb enough to do it in front of me."
"Do you thi
nk they believe Ford did this?"
"I don't know, Jenny." He shook his head with a disheartened expression. "I hope not, but you can never underestimate how stupid people are, and it's not like I can go around setting them all straight. I'm sure there are a few people here that would love to go to the press and run their mouths for the attention if I told them anything. The last thing Ford needs is more bad fucking press."
"He already had a client cancel on him before I even told him about the news report." I felt like crying again. "I'm sure there have been more since then. This might ruin his shop and his career, Andy. Even if he isn't convicted."
"I know," he added despondently. "How about a side order of guilt with my guilt?" he said bitterly. We were both silent for a while again. Then he sighed as he stood. "I'd better get back to work."
"Yeah," I agreed dishearteningly. "I have a lot to get caught up on."
He nodded and left with his shoulders slumped dejectedly. Apparently, I wasn't the only one struggling with holding on to hope. This nightmare seemed to stretch out in front of us with no end in sight, and I feared the devastation that might await us all when it finally came to an end.
**********
An uncomfortable silence fell over the break room as I walked in for a late morning caffeine fix since I was exhausted. Furtive glances shot my way from the small group of five sitting around the table as I walked over to the coffee maker for a refill. They were some of the newer employees, and I wasn't sure of all their names. Some of them looked at me sympathetically, some with disgust, and all of them pissed me off. I didn't need anyone feeling sorry for me, or judging me, and I tried to ignore them, but anger began to well up inside me. I could hear low whispers as I poured fresh coffee into my mug, and stirred in my cream and sugar. I couldn't make out what they were saying, but it was enough to set me off.
I picked up my mug and turned to face them. "If you have something to say, then why can't you say it to my face?" I asked bitterly as I glared at them. Five assholes stared back, two male, three female, and they lapsed into silence again with wide startled eyes. They all shared uncomfortable glances, yet no one spoke. "That's what I thought," I snapped out. I made a disgusted sound. "Apparently, the innocent until proven guilty thing is just fucking bullshit to you. Especially, when you can sit around and gossip behind someone's back instead." My voice began to break, and my eyes burned with the threat of tears as they all looked away chagrined. If this was just a taste of what Ford had to deal with, no wonder he was a wreck right now. Nausea roiled in my stomach, and I fled the room before I lost it and started sobbing or ended up throwing up on the floor. I practically ran down the hall in my haste and plowed right into my father as he stepped out of his office.
An Act of Redemption: Order & Chaos Book 3 Page 9
