RAGE (The Rage Series Book 2)

by MJ Riley

  Oh, no.

  Immediately, David shook his head. Lawyers cost money. Good lawyers were expensive. Marshall had been footing the bill his entire life, and perhaps he'd done it because he respected him, but this was far too much. “I can't.” He looked from brother to sister, his gray gaze serious. “I don't have anything to pay you with now.”

  “Wow, he's just like you said.” Leah's hands went to her hips, as she gave him a cursory once over.

  “David, didn't we just go over this? Do you really want the city defending you? Mathers probably has them in their pockets.”

  “Well, no,” he started, “but you can't keep—”

  “Christ, man, you're not my mom. Don't tell me what I can and can't do. And besides, this was Leah's decision. If you want to convince someone, start with her, and good luck with that. I haven't won an argument against her since she passed the bar.”

  The last thing he wanted to do was kick a gift horse in the mouth at this particular juncture, but he didn't know if he would ever get used to Marshall supporting him so. He'd thought he would be on his own feet by this point, and the disappointment stung.

  David exhaled hotly and held his hand out to Leah with a small smile. “Nice to finally meet you.”

  “Likewise. I was beginning to think I'd never see the elusive David.”

  “I assure you, it's more a trial than luck that we met. You'll see that soon enough.”

  “I think you might underestimate me slightly.” The dark-haired woman's expression turned mischievous. “Marshall wasn't bluffing when he said I'm one of the best. So, let's get back to the office and see what we have to work with here.”

  Somehow, he didn't think it would be much.

  If he wanted this situation to work to his advantage at all, he would have to tell Leah the truth. Divulging to Marshall, who he'd known for years, was one thing; but, telling Marshall’s sister would be quite another. She was a woman and would probably be quick to see Charlotte's side of things. He deceived her, and though the ruthlessness of his methods had abated somewhat, he'd intended to keep lying to her until he achieved his goals. It wasn't something that women tended to find acceptable.

  However, Leah was Marshall's sister.

  Perhaps, somehow, she'd be able to see beyond his actions and discover that he wasn't an abysmal person. He was just angry and bereft after feeling like he'd been robbed of everything that mattered for years.

  However, first, he had to go home.

  He needed to check on his mother. Once he was sure she was alright, he needed to ask her a few questions. He was going to get answers, one way or the other. He could only hope that they were the answers he wanted to hear.

  Chapter Seven

  She was in better shape than he had hoped.

  Though the nurse hadn't been in for two days, it was obvious that Miranda had been present enough to take herself to the bathroom and shower. When they entered the small apartment, she was parked on the couch in front of the TV, watching it silently. Her damp hair was enough to tell David that she had at least kept herself clean. However, he couldn’t say whether she'd eaten or not.

  Apologetically, he gestured to Leah and Marshall to wait in the tiny front entryway as he shed his jacket and shoes. He desperately needed a shower, and more than anything, he craved a good, hot meal. However, before he did either, he needed to speak with her. He needed to know.

  “Mom.” At the sound of his voice, his mother glanced up at him dully for a moment before looking back at the television. The reaction was more than he usually got from her and that gave him hope. “I'm sorry I was gone so long. Are you alright. Is everything ok?”

  She said nothing, just continuing to stare at the screen before her.

  Sighing, David moved to sit next to her on the couch, following the line of her gaze. His eyes widened when he realized that she was watching a news program—and the subject of the current report was none other than Mathers Incorporated. He found he couldn't tear his eyes away, as the blonde news anchor began to narrate the developing story, images playing out behind her.

  “One of our top news stories tonight: Mathers Incorporated has suddenly taken on a new CEO. After an inspection of some of the company's developing projects caused suspicion of possible sabotage, former CEO and daughter of Mathers Incorporated founder, Emerson Mathers, stepped down. In her place, the noted business mogul, Samson Causewell, took over the running of the company. It is still unknown the extent to which the firm has been crippled by the mishap, but we'll continue to cover the story as it unfolds.”

  Charlotte had stepped down?

  David frowned at the screen. Why on earth would she have done that? Yes, he'd installed fail-safes into every prototype he'd worked on, but any idiot with even the lowest tech degree could extract them to preserve the device. He was left to assume those working in the department hadn't actually found what was wrong with the technology and only assumed that it would impossible to salvage.

  And Charlotte…the last time he'd checked, the company had been her life. Hadn't she spoken of running it in a way exponentially better than the way her father had? Of making it into her pet project and using it to bolster all her charitable aspirations?

  And now she'd just given it up.

  It was more than a little strange, and David would be willing to bet that there was some awful foul play involved on the part of Emerson Mathers. With a small smile, he remembered how fulfilling it had been when his fist had connected with the odious man's face. He wasn't usually a violent man, but the spray of blood and the flying teeth had done him a world of good.

  Emerson had said some pretty nasty things about his mother; but, they were only the latest in a life full of insults he'd dealt the Marscomb family. When David opened his mouth to speak to his mother, a part of him hoped desperately that she remained as mute as she had been for the past years. It was the same part of him that feared, deep down, that Emerson's words had been the truth. Yet, a much larger part of him craved his mother's reassurance and the sound of her voice.

  He needed to hear her speak now more than ever.

  “Mom,” he said in a low voice, wrapping an arm gently around her to hold her against him as his heart began to race in anticipation. “I know you sometimes have a hard time…expressing yourself. I understand that more than anyone else. I've gone through what you've gone through. I loved Dad, too. I know you're hurting inside.” He searched for what to say next, wondering how he could possibly breach such a sensitive subject. “I've never asked you for anything, Mom. I've always taken care of you and kept you close and hoped you'd come back to me; but, now I need something from you. I need the truth. Did you…did you ever meet Dad's old friend Emerson?”

  Almost immediately, the woman stiffened in his arms, and David's heart sank. Her hollow eyes jerked up to his to stare at him almost accusingly, and her mouth formed a slight 'O' in her surprise.

  “Mom…” David's voice lowered to a whisper, his tone almost pained. “Please tell me you didn't. Tell me you never touched that man. He betrayed Dad. He betrayed us…”

  As his words faded away, tears unexpectedly welled in the older woman's eyes. Without a word, Miranda Marscomb stood on shaky legs, casting her son a look that spoke volumes of her guilt. Then, she turned and hobbled from the room.

  For a moment, David could only sit there in disbelief.

  It couldn't be.

  He'd calmed his rage, his fear, and his desolation while he'd been locked up with the hope that his mother would disprove, without a doubt, the claims that Emerson had made. Instead, she'd remained just as silent as she'd always been and proclaimed her guilt with a single look.

  Emerson Mathers was his father.

  The thought made him physically ill. He was still sitting on the couch, his head in his hands, when Marshall and Leah entered. Neither of them looked too happy. Without a word, his friend sat on the couch next to him, extremely somber. Marshall simply said, “I'm guessing you didn't get the ans
wer you wanted.”

  With a tortured groan, David looked up at him before picking up the nearest object—which happened to be a cheap glass vase—and hurled it at the wall. The object shattered into a thousand pieces, making both Marshall and Leah duck. Slowly, David rose from the couch, wondering how he was ever going to come to terms with the new knowledge he'd gained. Emerson was his father, which meant that he'd been seducing his own goddamn sister. How could he live with himself?

  “David,” Marshall interjected, stopping his perilous thoughts, “whatever you're thinking, stop it. This isn't the time to fall apart.”

  “I'm going to kill him,” David said, seething, his eyes shut tight as he prayed for composure. “I'm going to strangle him in his goddamn hospital bed.”

  “You're not going to kill anyone,” Leah said, calmly. “We can handle this, David. We can use it in our case against him.”

  A case was a case.

  This was his life. All these years, his mother had been carrying that secret within her. For Emerson to be his father, she must have known him before she had been married to his father. She had lied to Lester, and she had lied to him—and that hurt almost as much as carrying twenty years of hate within himself.

  “I need…I need a minute.” His heart heavy, David left the room, stalking down the hall in great strides until he reached his own bedroom. It was only after he'd closed and locked the door behind himself that he finally expelled a shaky breath, raking his hands through his mussed hair.

  He had to breathe.

  He had to get through this.

  Had he really survived the last two decades only to crumble now? For as long as he could remember, David had been the strongest person he knew. He'd worked his way through both high school and college, supported his mother while he was still studying for SATs, and been successfully hired to one of the most renown tech companies in the world. Were his demons now going to envelop him and kick him when he was down?

  Suddenly, he was faced with an almost violent desire for Charlotte.

  Certainly, she'd never known exactly how terrifying the skeletons in his closet were; but, in her own way, she'd tried to help. He'd never been able to talk to her as she'd wished; but, the few weeks that he'd been with her had been some of the most fulfilling, albeit confusing, times in his life.

  He desperately wished that there had been some way to take Emerson down without hurting her. He was going to have to work to dig himself out of a massive hole and that would be task enough without pining for a woman he would never have.

  At a sudden knock on his door, David frowned. He'd said he needed a minute. Not that he didn't appreciate all the help Marshall and Leah were offering, but he needed time to regain his composure. His mouth set in a firm line, he crossed his small bedroom and yanked open the door.

  Then, he froze.

  Staring up at him were the bright blue eyes, gorgeous face, and pouting mouth of none other than Charlotte Mathers. There were bags under her eyes that suggested that she hadn't been sleeping well, and her clothes were somewhat less pressed than usual. However, it was her in the flesh. Faced with such a surprise, David had no idea to react.

  He simply stared.

  “David, I'm sorry man.” Marshall's head popped up behind her, his expression irritated. “She barged her way in. Said she had to speak with you.”

  “David, please.” Charlotte's voice sounded almost as weary as he felt. “We need to talk.”

  He should refuse her.

  He still remembered her chilling scream when he'd hit her father and the way she'd looked at him after. It was as if he were an absolute stranger. That had been one of the most painful moments of the past week. It had been like she'd turned on him in an instant, all while he'd been trying to save her.

  “It's fine, Marshall.” He had to force the words out, but when they finally came, the blonde woman before him sagged in relief. “Just give us a few minutes. I'm sure Charlotte doesn't have a terribly large list of things to go over.”

  Charlotte winced at the sarcasm in his voice before setting her own jaw firmly. Marshall shot her a suspicious look before reluctantly turning towards the living room. Hesitantly, Charlotte stepped over the threshold to his room, and, all at once, David was embarrassed. He'd always told himself to be proud of what he had because he'd worked his ass off for it, but his tiny Lower East Side apartment seemed woefully small when he mentally compared it to Charlotte's uptown penthouse.

  It was a house, he reminded himself, that had been bought with Mathers money—which was about as filthy as it came in his opinion. The realization hardened him, and as he closed the door behind Charlotte, his embarrassment disappeared.

  A feeling that still lingered, no matter how much he tried to dispel it, was the acute awareness of the queen sized bed that took up most of the space in the room. Now that he knew that Charlotte was his half-sister, David had tried numerous times to conjure up feelings of disgust when he remembered the intimacy they'd shared. The problem was that he simply couldn't. When he remembered Charlotte's sighs and coos of pleasure and the way she arched against him when he hit that sublime spot inside her, he still became painfully aroused.

  Even now, he was struggling against the quickly awakening organ between his legs.

  The woman across from him didn't appear to be unaffected either. She glanced at the bed several times before hesitantly settling on the very edge of it. It took a moment, but David finally followed suit, sitting at the extreme opposite end of the mattress.

  “Well?” he finally asked in a low voice. He couldn't think of a single reason for why the heir to the Mathers fortune would have come to visit him now. Wasn't she supposed to be planning a lawsuit of massive proportions against him?

  For a moment, Charlotte said nothing. Then, with a shaking hand, she withdrew a thick manila folder full of papers from her bag. Placing it on the bed, she edged it towards him. When he glanced up at her in question, he was shocked to find her gaze completely unsure.

  “These…” she started slowly, before clearing her throat, “I found these on my father's private server in the manor in Long Island. I assume they're going to be in agreement with anything you might want to tell me about your family and why you did what you did.”

  David's gaze became slightly disbelieving for a moment before he picked up the folder from the bed and opened it. A thick stack of pages met his gaze, all patents. However, unlike the patents he'd become used to working with over the past six months, these were not marked with the name Mathers Incorporated, but with that of his father, Lester Marscomb.

  Or, at least the man he'd thought was his father.

  No.

  At the blasphemous thought, David hardened his resolved. Even in death, Lester was ten times the father that Emerson would ever be. The man was trying to have him put away for God's sake. He delighted in his torment! Though his father might have had problems, David knew that Lester Marscomb had loved him until the day he'd died. His love had been so overwhelming that he committed suicide.

  He couldn't imagine Emerson Mathers ever taking his own life because of love for another human being. The man would be selfish until the day he died, without question.

  As David flipped through the papers, he felt himself becoming more and more desolate. There were images of Emerson and his father together, working on a new schematic, dates of both hiring and termination, personal letters from Lester Marscomb practically begging Emerson to retract his blacklisting requests from all nearby companies. It was a paper trail of suffering. When David finally came to the nude pictures of his very young and gullible mother, he'd had enough. “So what?” He tossed the folder aside in disgust as he drew his hands over his face, his heart like a rock in his chest. “Now that you know what your father has done, I've become someone for you to pity?”

  “No,” Charlotte replied quietly. She looked at her hands rather than face him. “That's not it at all. I came here to…to apologize for taking everything my father sai
d at face value.”

  “Why would you apologize for that?” David demanded, laughing lowly at the irony of the situation. “He might have spouted egregious amounts of lies, but the part about me scheming to bring the company down was spot on. I entered into the firm in order to destroy it, Charlotte, just like your father destroyed my family.”

  He was probably ruining any chances he might have at building a proper case against Emerson now, but David couldn't remain silent. He had plenty to say, and since Charlotte had always been so keen on having him talk, she could just sit there and listen. “Not that he had any right to judge, but I might as well be the villain he painted me to be. It was certainly enough for him to toss me in a cell, wasn't it?”

  “You got sent to the precinct because you hit my father.” Charlotte's words were somewhat wry, as she gazed up at him. “You broke the man's jaw, for Christ’s sake.”

  “He deserves worse, and I'm not ashamed to say it.”

  “And you think that you can just dispense your particular brand of justice and there won't be any consequences? Jesus, David, we're blood related. How could you just…overlook that?”

  “Overlook?” David shot to his feet in outrage. “Believe me, had I known that the man had anything to do with my parentage, Charlotte, I'd have taken my own life long before I worked up the resources to infiltrate the company. I didn't know a single detail about him and my mother before he mentioned it. Or are you going to believe what he said about me in that arena, as well?”

  Charlotte looked immediately humbled. Taking back the folder, she slipped it into her bag once more before standing herself. As she did, her expression crumpled. When she looked at him again, her face was raw with emotion. Her hurt was so blatant that he actually winced, his own heart aching. “Did you ever care about me at all, David? Even a little bit?”

  What the hell kind of question was that?