by CY Jones
Even still with all that, I could not shake my guilt, so I looked into your father’s past and learned he had a daughter from a previous relationship. Your mother I could not help since any news I would have brought her about your father would have only made her condition worse, but you I could help. I learned you resided in Jersey and had trouble keeping a job, so I came up with this grand scheme to help all of us.
Like I said in the beginning of this letter, the fertility clinic contacted you with an offer I knew you wouldn’t turn down. Originally, we were supposed to meet out in the parking lot when your car wouldn’t start and not the elevator, but I guess that was fate working even if I’m the one responsible for leading you there in the first place. When I saw the look on my husband’s face, I knew I had chosen well. Grayson always had a wild side and truth be told, you are more his type than me. If you haven’t guessed already, my plan was for you to not just fuck my husband, but to spend time with him, and eventually fall in love with him as well as him for you, and on your part my plan worked like a charm. I know you love Grayson, anyone can see it in those big green eyes of yours. Eyes that look so much like your father's.
I’ve chosen to die. I’m not in the hospital to get better, but to live out the little time I have left. It’s my penance for your father’s death. If I would have done my job, he would be alive and maybe you could have met him and gotten some kind of closure. Maybe let him back in your life where he would have righted his wrongs towards you. I cheated you both out of a second chance, which is why I gave you Grayson in his place. You two and the baby together would have made a beautiful family.
My plan also has its selfish components as well. I’m Grayson’s everything. Our love is one of those stories you no longer hear anymore. A love so deep that one could not live without the other. I fear, no, I know, when I die Grayson will try to follow me to the afterlife. I could not let that happen, so in my mission to gain redemption, I also used you. I used both of you. Like I said in the beginning of my letter, I will not apologize for bringing you into our lives. It’s up to you what you’ll do with the information I just unloaded onto you.
You surprised me, Jade. You have since the first time I met you. For all purposes, you are not your father’s daughter. You are a good person, smart and passionate about the things you believe in and the ones you love. I admit, I did not see Tyson coming, but if you’re happy, I’m happy for you. I know I don’t deserve it, but can I be so bold to ask for a favor? I know Grayson can be one of the most stubborn of people. He’s no saint and I’m sure he’s putting you through hell. He’s a mastermind at words and knows how to wield them to hurt you the most, but I beg of you to not let him die. When I die, watch over him for me, please. Don’t let him do anything stupid. He may say he wants nothing to do with the baby but he’s bluffing. In time, when the pain of my loss has settled, he will come around. Please, let him be the father I know he can be.
Farewell,
Nichole Juliet Hastings
What the fuckity fuck? I cannot believe what I just read. Like, if I were a cartoon, my mind would be blown open right now like a volcano. Wow! Who the fuck is Nichole? This letter of admission proves I’ve never known her and apparently, neither does Grayson.
“Hey, why do you have that look on your face?” Tyson asks, stepping inside with my bags. Quickly, I tuck the letter into the envelope and give him what I’m hoping is not a crazed smile.
“Nothing, just a card from Nichole. A nurse from the cancer ward delivered it.”
“That was nice of her,” he replies. He’s about to say something else when the baby starts to stir and cry.
“I guess someone is hungry,” I say, popping my breast free and he immediately latches on. They say breastfeeding is hard for first timers, but apparently not in my case. I’m glad for the distraction because as soon as my tit makes an appearance, both males in the room are transfixed by it and Tyson forgets all about the card. Running his fingers through my hair, we both watch our son feed. Him in content silence, and me freaking out on the inside after learning Nichole’s secrets.
36
Grayson
Two Weeks Later
“I’m sorry for your loss,” repeated words from another person whose face I will not remember later. In fact, this whole damn day can go to hell. Four days ago, I lost the most important person in the world to me. My very reason for living. My Nichole, my precious wife, is dead, cold, and buried in her family's plot at the cemetery. The only comfort I can take is at least she died in her sleep and is no longer in pain. The last week she was in absolute agony, and the only time she found relief was when she was asleep. I hate that she had given up on herself and went through any of that at all. I hate that she wouldn’t fight for me and in the end, she died knowing I hated her. Is it love or guilt that has me feeling like I need to follow her? We made a promise to each other, a pact. We were supposed to go out together, but she broke that promise. Unlike her I will not break my word. I will follow her.
“Are you okay? Maybe you should go lie down,” Nichole’s mother says gently as she grabs onto my arm.
Yanking my arm back, I growl, “I’m not two. I don’t need to take a fucking nap.”
“I didn’t mean it like that.” Her voice is low as I’m making a scene, but I don’t give two shits about these pretentious fucks in my living room. In fact, I want them out of my house, all of them.
Not bothering to apologize, I stomp away to my study and pull out a full bottle of bourbon. When I crack it open, I don’t bother with a tumbler and drink it straight out the bottle, relishing in the burn going down my throat. After a couple more long pulls, I don’t even feel the burn anymore. My throat is as numb as my mind.
I stay in my study, leaving the wake to my in-laws. Soon, sounds of the intruders in my house lessen as they go home giving up on their attempts to catch sightings of the mourning husband. These people are nothing but vultures circling their prey, none of their intentions here are good. Social climbers waiting to climb on my dick, hoping to take my wife’s place, old business acquaintances looking for weaknesses, and assholes looking to profit off my wife’s death. Like the president of my wife’s snobby club who wants to hold a charity ball in my wife’s honor. The asshole is only looking to line his pockets and tap into Nichole’s social calendar. He wants the same acquaintances since she knew a lot of powerful people.
The sun is just going down when Nichole’s mother knocks on the door, letting me know everyone is gone and she’ll lock up on her wait out. I don’t acknowledge her. I just keep drinking as I sink into myself. An hour later, everything is blissfully quiet. Using the key to my desk, I open the drawer and pull out the loaded 9 mm I keep locked in there. The liquor has done its job. I feel no regret about taking my life; in fact, I can’t feel anything. There will be no note. There’s no need. Everyone will already know why I chose to go this route. A trust has already been made in my son’s name. He will want for nothing, not that he would have being a Garfield. Tyson may be an asshole, but he loves my son, and taken it upon himself to care for him as his own. A boy with my name and eyes. If I had any regrets for what I’m about to do, he would be it. I wish I could have been a father to you, but you’re in great hands. Your mother is beautiful and caring and will never let anyone hurt you. It’s a good thing you will never meet me.
Gripping the gun tightly in my hand, I place my finger on the trigger. Taking a deep breath, I blow the air out, whispering to Nichole, "I’ll see you soon," as if her spirit is standing right beside me. Just when I’m resolved with my decision and am about to pull the trigger, my office door suddenly slams open, and in the threshold is an angry looking Tyson and an even angrier looking Jade.
“Dude, what the fuck?” Tyson growls before he tackles me. The gun flies out my hand and falls to the floor sliding under the cabinet.
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?” Jade shrieks.
“What the fuck does it look like? Damn, sweetheart, I kn
ew you were dense, but even you can’t be that stupid.”
“Says the asshole who’s sitting here trying to off himself,” she counters, batting away my insult like a fly. In the war of words, Jade makes a formidable opponent. “Do you really think Nichole would want this? For you to just throw your life away following after her?”
“Why not? She did it.” Not my best comeback, I know, but I’m still shocked over them busting in here like the cops.“What are you doing here?”
“I knew you were going to do something stupid, and look, I was right. We came here to stop your dumbass.”
“How did you even get into my house?” I ask, flabbergasted.
“Not that it matters, but I picked the locks,” she answers casually, like she’s ordering something to eat and not admitting to unlawful entry to a private residence.
“And you just went along with this?” I ask Tyson incredulously and the bastard just shrugs. Shrugs, I mean what Twilight Zone did I land in where a man like Tyson Garfield can be pussy whipped? “Well, I see who wears the pants in this relationship. No wonder she got you to marry her. That pussy of hers must be made of gold,” I snark and Tyson’s fist meets my jaw. I groan from the pain, lifting my hand to rub my jaw. Fucking hell. These two killjoys are killing my buzz.
“That’s my wife you’re talking about and the mother of your child. I don’t know why she even wants to save your sorry ass. Clearly you don’t deserve it.”
“Fuck you, dude. No one asked you two to be here, in fact, both of you get out and leave me be. Don’t you have a kid to take care of? Kind of early to be leaving him with the nanny.”
“I know what you’re doing. Nichole warned me about this,” Jade says softly and I hate that I can hear the sympathy in her voice. She shouldn’t be worried about me. I don’t deserve it.
“What are you talking about? When did you talk to Nichole?”
“Here,” she answers instead, handing me a thick three page letter. I recognize the writing immediately and I practically snatch it out of her hands. “Read this, and if you still want to off yourself afterwards, we’ll leave you to it.” I highly doubt that, but I go along with it anyways.
They both leave, probably taking a seat in the sitting room and I focus my blurry vision on what’s possibly the last thing my wife ever wrote. I remember in college, we used to write each other hand written letters all the time as we evolved our relationship into something more.
By the time I finish the letter, my vision is blurry for other reasons and not because I’m drunk. Thick tears fall from my eyes nonstop as I sob over my loss, smearing the ink. How did I not know any of this? Sure, I remember the case, but I never knew it affected her this much. That the man she was defending was Jade’s father. How crazy is that? But this is no work of fate. This is all my cunning wife’s doing. She brought Jade into my life not just for me, but herself.
“Are you okay?” Jade asks from the doorway. I don’t know how long she’s been standing there, leaning against the frame, watching me read. I know her question has a double meaning. She wants to know if I’m still going to kill myself. Am I?
“Your conscious is clear, raven,” telling her the only answer I can give. How can I keep my vow to my wife when I didn’t even know her? If I did, maybe she would still be alive. I could have helped her with the guilt she’s been carrying for so long. Maybe she wouldn’t have been so quick to give up, but with that same thought, if I could have gotten to Nichole there’s a chance I would have never met Jade. Nichole would have had no reason to seek her out.
The doorbell rings, the sound echoing through the house. I don’t bother to get up. It’s probably another one of my neighbors with late condolences. Tyson must have answered the door for me because I hear the alarm beep signaling the door is open. I don’t know why I didn’t hear it when they first came in. I was probably too focused on the act of killing myself. A loud popping noise, like a gunshot sends both Jade and I running. When we get to the door, I stare in horror at the scene before us not believing my eyes. On the floor is Tyson, clutching a gunshot wound to the chest that is bleeding profusely. Screaming, Jade falls to her knees before his body and moves his hand out of the way to press down on the wound herself, frantically trying to stop the bleeding.
“Don’t just stand there, call 911,” she shouts, breaking into my dazed, paralyzed state. Taking out my phone, I do as she asks. I’m a mess as I talk to the operator, still trying to process everything. I can’t believe Tyson got shot answering my door. That only means the bullet was meant for me. Who the hell did I piss off enough for them to want to kill me?
While Jade is still pressing her palm onto Tyson’s wound, I go to the open door. On the steps is a single black rose with a note. I leave the rose, but I pick up the note and read it.
Cancer may have gotten your bitch of a wife, but no one will escape our wrath
“What does it say?” Jade asks.
I read the note out loud and her face pales. “Do you know who did this?” I question.
“I’m not sure, but it could be a message from my father’s motorcycle gang. Nichole did go out of her way to make sure the VP was arrested and received the death penalty.”
“But why come after us now? That doesn’t make any sense." My mind is buzzing for answers and soon my ears are filled with sirens from the ambulance pulling onto my street.
“Isn’t it obvious? After I read the letter, I looked into the case myself. Usually they take years to put someone to death even with lethal injection, but with Nichole calling for his head and with her connections, they executed Mad Dog Wilson, President of the Serpents Motorcycle Gang, two days ago. They must have learned Nichole was the reason behind why he was executed so quickly and decided to come after her. Learning she’s dead, they decided to refocus their revenge on her family.” Her face pales and a look of fear I’ve never seen before crosses her beautiful features. “Grayson, we’re all in danger now.”
I don’t get the opportunity to reply when the crew from the ambulance comes rushing in and takes over, pushing Jade out the way so they can stabilize Tyson. While they work over him, Jade gives them a playback of what happened. Once Tyson is stable, they tie him down to a stretcher, loading him onto the truck, and rush off to the hospital while we follow in Tyson’s car. Jade is a mess and in no condition to drive, so I do it. I'm no longer drunk at all. Between the letter and the gunfire, I am stone cold sober.
Tyson is rushed straight to surgery, so we have no choice but to wait. I pace the waiting area, not able to sit down. This wasn’t supposed to happen. I was the only one who was supposed to die tonight. My death would not have affected Jade, but Tyson, Tyson is the man she loves. If he dies, that will destroy her, and I can’t bear to witness that. Pulling out my phone, I call Tyson’s dad letting him know what happened. As rich families go, where we’re mostly raised by nannies, he’s really close to his son. After I hang up I think about what Jade said. If she’s right, once the motorcycle crew learns they shot the wrong person, they will try again. And they will find out. Shooting someone as well known as Tyson Garfield will be in the news. Heads will roll on both sides when they find out just who he is, who his family is. What if they learn I have a son?
“Jade, you need to go somewhere safe. If what you said is true, it will not be long before they try again. What if they learn about Grayson?”
“Have you lost your damn mind? I’m not leaving my husband. Fuck, Grayson, how could you be so cruel to even suggest such a thing? I know you have low opinions of me, but I’m not a scumbag. I’m going out my mind while my husband is currently getting operated on for a bullet to the chest that was meant for you. I don’t even know if he’ll make it and you want me to just run away.”
“Jade,” I huff. "I don’t think lowly of you. You’re the mother of my child, and I care about you, but be reasonable here. This isn’t just about you. I know you love Tyson, there’s no doubt about that, but I’m confident he wouldn’t want you here, putting
yourself in danger.”
“I have to agree with Grayson, but please fill me in on what’s going on and while you’re at it, explain to me how the hell my son got shot and is currently fighting for his life,” Tyson’s father bellows in his commanding voice. One you know not to ignore.
I gulp, wondering how in the hell Garfield got here so fast. He must have already been in the area when I called him, or maybe his connections told him his son was in the hospital before I could. I sometimes forget who he is and nothing happens here in New York without him knowing.
“A member from the Serpents shot him, thinking it was me since he answered my door.”
“And why would a small time motorcycle gang be paying you house visits? Visits where they want you dead?”
“My wife, sir. Apparently, she pissed them off when she saw to it that their newly appointed President got the death penalty for killing a club whore and Jade’s father. She then, somehow, found a way to speed up his execution.”
“Bloody hell. Did you know about this?” he snarls at me.
“No, I swear. I didn’t learn anything about it until Jade showed me a letter Nichole wrote her. You do remember the case Nichole took on that she lost and later got the conviction overturned? That man was Jade’s father.”
“It seems like your relationship with Jade runs deeper than your wife conning her to have your baby.”
“I wouldn’t say it like that,” I grumble. “Sure Nichole was a bit misguided and made poor choices, but I wouldn’t call her a con artist.”
Garfield ignores my comment and turns his attention to Jade. “I know you don’t want to hear this, but he’s right, dear. This whole thing is a big mess and as soon as that motorcycle gang finds out they shot the wrong person, they’ll be coming after Grayson, this time doing their homework. They may be clueless now, but that won’t be the case forever.”
