“I don’t care what happens to me. Mr. Campanella was hurting me. Juaquin was defending me. He thought I was in danger. That your boss was a threat. My best friend witnessed the whole thing. If Mr. Campanella doesn’t want all of the details brought to light in a legal setting, he will drop the charges.”
“There will be no bargaining or negotiating terms, Miss Jackson. Charges will be filed. Do whatever you feel you must. Though opposing Mr. Campanella would be very foolish indeed.” There was a pause. I heard a voice in the background on his end of the line. My blood ran cold. The puppeteer pulling the strings. “You’re fortunate that my employer prefers to bring the matter before a judge. Others in his family might have chosen a more…direct approach.” He hung up, and I knew why Campanella had his lackey call me. He wanted me to acknowledge the bind he had me in. Backed into a corner with no options except to do exactly what he wanted me to do.
Last night. Juaquin. His face before he had kissed me. His focus. His concern. His love. The things he had helped me realize. It had been like the pieces of my fractured self had finally come together properly. Not that any of that mattered anymore.
They would all fly apart again soon.
A throat cleared. I lifted my gaze. Abuelita sat in her chair in the hallway. How much had she heard? Enough apparently to be concerned. “My grandson called.” She cocked her head to the side. “He asked me to check on you. To see if you were awake.”
“I am,” I informed her inanely and swiped the tears away with the back of my hand.
“Chiquita, why are you crying?”
Shit.
“I…because…no reason.” I dove my eyes to the floor before they could betray me.
She made a disbelieving sound. I was a shit liar. It was a wonder my family hadn’t already figured out the web of falsehood I had woven.
“Can I help you with something?” I stood and willed the blood to flow back to my brain so I could try to think coherently and find a way out of my predicament.
“Perhaps I can help you.”
Unlikely, so very unlikely. “How so?”
“I heard part of your conversation. Something about charges and lawsuits.”
“Yes. Well. It was a wakeup call for me. It’s time for me to stop being a foolish little girl who believes in childish things.”
“Such as?”
“In dreams coming true,” I replied vaguely. In happiness and completion like I had found with Juaquin being something I could hold onto. “The usual things mothers tell their daughters when they should be preparing them for harsh reality instead.”
“Should they, mijita? In Southside? Where hope is needed most?” She wheeled her chair closer and handed me a tissue. “I don’t believe so. Tears cannot change reality. Nor can railing against it. Neither can running from it or denying that it exists. But perhaps love can reshape it. I believe love is the only thing that can.”
“Love only makes things worse.” I grabbed a tissue from the box on the dresser, dabbed my cheeks with it then crossed to the trash receptacle to throw it away.
“I must disagree. Come sit down, and I will tell you how I know these things to be true.”
“Alright.” I moved to sit on the bed beside where she had wheeled her chair.
“In this very room love made a difference.” I froze. “Yes, between Juaquin and Sager. Two teenage boys both so lost. Both so hurt. Each had lost a brother, but in each other they found hope.”
“Yes, I know. But…”
“I have buried a child, mijita. A husband and a grandson. So I know something about life’s cruelty. And for a long while I was afraid I would lose Juaquin, too.” She lifted her eyes. They were filled with emotion. “He worshipped his brother, adored him though Adrian like every older brother pretended it was a hardship to have him forever at his heels. Juaquin was at a tender age, not quite a boy anymore but not yet a man either when the police came to our door with their terrible news. Offering neither sympathy nor kindness, they interrogated all of us for hours, then afterward Juaquin went along with his father to the hospital to identify the body. That day broke both their hearts and damaged their relationship in a way that I feared would never heal. That hadn’t even begun to heal, until you came along.”
“I haven’t done anything.”
“You have. You spoke the words we have all spoken to Juaquin about his father. But when you spoke them he finally heard.” Her gaze delved deep. “So you see? Reality can be reshaped. Love can conquer despair.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
King
Something had happened while I had been at the hospital. Something between my grandmother and my queen. Abuelita looked a little guilty to me while Miriam seemed noticeably withdrawn. I had my suspicions. My grandmother spoke truths straight from her heart. It could be unsettling if you weren’t accustomed to it.
Had she embarrassed Miriam by mentioning that she had seen me carrying her back to my room near dawn?
Had she revealed how reluctant I had been to leave Miriam behind even if only for a few hours to see my father?
Or had she told her about the conversation between my mother and me where I had spoken about my elaborate plans for tonight and the reason behind them, one that I wasn’t entirely sure Miriam was ready to hear.
Across the kitchen table from me, Miriam had not once lifted her head. She sat still as a statue seemingly unaware of the bustle around her. My abuelita pressed masa balls into homemade tortillas. My mother hummed softly as she fried them. Sager manned the sizzling meat. His pixie chopped the condiments at the counter nearby, despite her disability she hardly let that hinder her in any way anymore.
“Miriam,” I called, and she looked up finally regarding me though her grey-green eyes lacked their usual sparkle. “Is something wrong?”
She shook her head in denial, but I knew it for a lie. That much was obvious. A sudden sheen glassed her eyes. Was it my grandmother then or was it just us? How could the idea of us be wrong for her when everything about it felt so right to me?
I reached for her hand. “Talk to me,” I whispered keeping my voice low. “We can go somewhere private if you’d like.”
“No, it’s ok. I…” Her words ended as her cell suddenly rang. “I better get that.” She withdrew her hand from beneath mine. She glanced down at the screen, looking surprised and relieved as she put it to her ear. “Mom,” she said, then paused to listen. “No. I mean yes we were together on the plane, but it’s not like you think.” Her eyes widened. She paled. “Ok. Yes, it was. No, the FAA didn’t give us a citation. I find it hard to believe that me having sex with Juaquin inside a plane lavatory is really newsworthy.” A spatula clattered to the counter. Sudden stillness seized the room. Though the meat still sizzled mi madre was no longer humming. My previous concerns were swept away in the wake of this new one. “No. I’m all grown up now, Mom. No, don’t. Please don’t. And tell Bry to stay the hell out of it.” Another pause to listen. “Yes, we’re at Juaquin’s house, but you know his father’s in the hospital. This isn’t a good time.” She suddenly pushed back from her chair, a screech of unsettling noise before the more jarring one as the front door as the bell rang. “King, I’m so sorry.” Embarrassment dotted Miriam’s cheeks. “My mother and my brother. They’re here.”
* * *
Miriam
“Remove your hand from my arm,” King told Bryan in a lethally quiet voice. “And your elbow from my neck.” My brother had pinned him to the living room wall, but it was obvious to me even given what my eyes could see who had the upper hand. “Do it now, cabrón. The only reason you’re not on your fucking ass right now is because it would upset mi mujer, and because your head is too close to mi madre’s vase with the holy water from Lourdes.”
“You’re a fucking asshole, Juaquin.” My brother barked. I had never seen him so livid. But he knew King could best him, and that he wasn’t joking around. Both men were deadly serious. “And my sister is not your woman. Don’t sugar c
oat it. You fucked her in a plane restroom. You’ve made her out to be no better than one of your whores.”
There were several gasps from the kitchen’s threshold where everyone else lingered witnessing the four primary players in this sordid scene.
“Miriam Diana Jackson.” My mother rang in. “How could you?” Tears welled in her eyes. “Everyone in America and probably half the whole world for that matter has seen the videos by now. And believe me they made their judgments. They think you’re a slut. Once something’s on the internet, it will never go away. You can never erase a horrible mistake like this once you’ve made it.” Something sad that I chose to see only as her disapproval of me darkened the shadows within her eyes. “That’s not who you are. That’s not the way I raised you.”
“You didn’t raise me much at all.” Her continual disappointment galled me. Bry, her heart. Ann, her pride and joy, and me, her problem. “I raised myself, and you know it. I also mostly raised Ann too while you went to nursing school and worked all those late hours.”
“For you! I did everything for you and your brother and sister. Do you think it was easy? I wanted you all to have a better life, and I gave it to you. What’s happened to you?” She narrowed her eyes. “You’ve never spoken to me like this before. Never behaved this deplorably. What’s going on? Are you doing drugs? Is that what this is? Why you did those things in public with him?” Her finger wagged to include Juaquin. “You need to get yourself together quickly, young lady. And let’s hope against hope that you haven’t jeopardized your scholarship with this stunt.”
“I didn’t jeopardize it because I don’t have it anymore.” Her mouth dropped open, and I lifted my chin. “I got kicked out of school ages ago. And you didn’t even notice. Never once questioned why I never asked you to come visit me anymore. Well, guess what, Mom? I didn’t because I live in Vegas now and strip for a living! That’s where I ran into King and had my slutty way with him.”
“Miriam, No.” She snapped her jaw shut and shook her head. “Oh my God.” Her eyes filling made my stomach burn. “Why…why are you being this way?”
“Because I’m tired of being a failure in your eyes. Probably as tired as you are of seeing me fail.”
Shocked, she sucked in a breath. I could feel my brother’s eyes drilling his own set of disapproving holes into me. They would have found out everything eventually. It was only a matter of when with me in the media spotlight. Time had run out. Campanella and more mayhem for all of my relationships lay at the end of my path. My two separate lines hurtled toward a very public collision, and I was in no shape to handle the wreckage with the heart that I had once wisely kept tucked away, now so exposed and vulnerable.
“Well.” My mother drew herself up to her full height which was the same as mine. “You certainly won’t be returning to Las Vegas. You’re coming home. Right now. With me.” She cast a quick glance around the room to include everyone though she didn’t quite make eye contact with any of them. She was too ashamed. Ashamed of me. “We’ll be leaving now. I’m sorry for the scene.” She headed for the door, waving her hand as if she expected me to fall in behind her.
“What home would that be?” I retorted.
She whirled around, her gaze snapping back to me.
“If you’re referring to the place where you live, that’s not my home. A home is where someone feels safe and protected. I stopped feeling that way the summer you invited my father to come live with us and let him stay even though you knew the hateful things he was saying to me.” I clenched my fingers hearing the litany of those words echoing inside my head.
“Miriam,” my brother cautioned, trying to latch his hand onto my stiffened arm. I shrugged away from him. He had known. He had heard everything, too, and barely done more than she had. Mostly he had sought refuge at War’s house. “Enough.” He looked shocked. “Stop already.”
I noticed then that even Juaquin was looking at me like he didn’t know who I was. I told myself that was good. It hurt sure, but it was good. If he didn’t want me anymore after this, letting him go would be that much easier. Wouldn’t it?
“It is enough. Enough of me trying to pretend to be someone I’m not just to win your approval,” I looked first to my mother, then swung my gaze to my brother. “Enough with you playing the role of my protector. That was annoying when I was a teenager. It’s just plain ridiculous now, don’t you think?”
He only stared at me. I stared back. I was alone, shaking. Until Juaquin moved to my side. As hateful and ugly as I had been, he didn’t abandon me. He didn’t reject me. He threw his arm around my shoulders and drew me close. His warmth washed over me. His abundant and generous affection. It felt important him standing at my side. Like right or wrong, for better or worse, he accepted me. I didn’t deserve his kindness, but I wasn’t in any shape at the moment to turn it away.
Chapter Twenty-Eight
King
“This was a shit move and you know it.” I leaned in over the driver’s side door of the SUV Bryan had propped open between us. “At my house. In front of my family. Totally uncool.”
“Maybe.” He tipped his gaze to the house where everyone else still remained. “But you picking up my sister in a strip club…”
“That’s done. No more stripping. I already told her.” No way did I want other men looking at her naked body.
“Well, that’s something at least. But you banged her on a fuckin’ plane, Juaquin.” He ran a hand over his hair and hit me with a look of betrayal that felt like a punch to my gut. “Just so the whole damn world can know what a stud you are, I guess.”
“It’s not like that at all.”
“Bullshit. I’ve seen you. Your ‘fiestas’. You’ve been on a fuckfest for two tours.”
“Because…” I trailed off when I saw his mother coming toward us from the house, tears streaming down her face. It didn’t appear that round two with her daughter in the privacy of my old room had gone much better than the public confrontation. What a cluster.
“Because what, man?” Bryan prompted, his eyes tracking his mom too, as she hit the driveway and headed toward the passenger side of his Infiniti QX80. She jerked her chin at him and yanked open her door.
“Because I have feelings for her.” Fucking shit I did not want to get into this with him in front of their mother, but so be it.
“Yeah, right.” He didn’t believe me.
“It’s the truth. It’s always been her.”
“What are you saying” His eyes hard, he stepped around his door, closed in a restrained manner that told me a lot about how pissed he was, before he moved menacingly closer. “Don’t tell me you…”
“No, man. She was underage when I met her. I never crossed that line. But even though I never did, even though I did absolutely fucking nothing except push her away because I wanted better for her than me, she’s always been the one I couldn’t get out of my head. I tried. Believe me, I really fucking tried. But I was lying to myself. I think you know how I coped with it until now because I’m betting that’s how it was with you all those years before winning Lace’s heart.” I saw it in his expression, slowly getting a grip on his anger and controlling it as the truth of my words sank in.
“Why didn’t you say something sooner?” His eyes searching mine, his combative stance loosened. He might not be supportive. She was his sister after all. But I think he was finally starting to get where I was coming from.
“Seriously?” I lifted a brow. “Would you really have given us a chance? You’re a little hard to reason with when it comes to her.” I glanced back at the house, my gut still on high churn because I knew Miriam was upset in there, and I didn’t want that for her. “Listen.” I beckoned him closer. I was anxious to get back inside and check on her. “You and I both know Miriam doesn’t react well in situations where she feels vulnerable. She throws up defenses and then comes out guns blazing. We can thank your asshole father for that.”
“Yeah.” He glanced back at the house. One
moment ticked by. Two. I could almost see the wheels spinning inside his head. It was a lot to absorb. “Not just for Miriam, you know. He messed us all up in one way or another.” I noted his puzzled look when he turned back to face me. “You seem to know my sister pretty well.”
“I’m getting there. One step at a time. As she allows it.”
“That sounds like her.” He shook his head. “But you should have been more discreet, more careful. I think you know that.”
“I hear you. I’ll talk to her about how things went down today.” I set my voice to a lower volume. “But you need to understand something. Plane. Tour bus. Backstage. Lights on. Lights off. I’m not turning her down when she gives me the nod. We wasted too much time already.”
“King,” he warned.
“Uh-uh, man. I’m being straight with you, but this discussion is closed. Miriam and me? We’re together. Come to terms with it. And do me a solid, alright? Talk to your mom. See if you can get her to see things a little more from your sister’s perspective.”
“I’ll give it a try, I guess.” He gave me a wry look. “But I wouldn’t be banking on any backyard cookouts at my family’s house anytime soon.”
* * *
Miriam
I started to close the door. I was stick-a-fork-in-me done after the very public confrontation with my mom. I had lost my shit in front of everyone. And the private conversation that followed basically amounted to us circling around each other without any forward progress. We were both too entrenched. I was determined to live my life on my own terms and she wanted to turn me back into her little girl again.
“Miriam.” Juaquin stuck his foot in the gap. “Let me come in.”
“I just wanna be by myself for a while.” I avoided his gaze though I noticed that he had placed his hand just below my fingers. I had a sudden urge to lay my cheek against them. I sighed remembering how incredibly good it felt to have him stroking his fingers through my hair. And how even more incredible it had been having him standing by my side in the living room during the fireworks.
Scandalous Beat (The Tempest Rock Star series Book 6) Page 17
