Did I listen?
No.
I thought maybe the iciness was because I didn’t wake up with Jaxson curled around me like a heated blanket due to a late dinner meeting with Harry, which ended my night on a bad note. I tried to shake off the frost that covered me and go to my favorite coffee place for a cup-a-joe. Thankfully that went without a hitch, till I tried to drink it. Because instead of the beverage warming me from the inside, it warmed me from the outside as I spilled it all over my white silk blouse.
Covered in pumpkin latte on my way back home to change, I was rear ended by someone, who proceeded to run off, leaving my car with no bumper, me with a headache, and still no coffee to ease the woes.
I finally make it to the office after ten, with a clean blouse, but now as I’m heading up to my floor on the elevator, Luna is sending me 911’s.
I don’t know how much more I can take today.
"What's this urgent 911 text?" I ask Luna as I walk to her desk, shoving my cell phone into my purse.
Her eyes dart to my office door nervously, and she looks back at me, with a small sympathetic smile. "Your dad is in your office."
Yep, my day from hell just got worse. The devil has come out to play today. I knew I should have stayed in bed, under my covers.
"Great. How did he seem?"
"Like his normal arrogant asshole self?" she says as a question and shrugs. "He didn't even glance at me as he stormed into your office."
I knock my shoes together, wishing there was no place like home, so maybe I could get transported the hell out of here. My gut and the goosebumps rising on my skin are already telling me there's a shit show brewing behind my doors.
I'm not sure if I'm ready for it.
I take a deep breath, and it shakes as I release it. I glance back over at Luna and tell her to pray for me. She places her hands together and looks up to the sky, giving me a silent prayer.
Lord, help me.
With another shaky breath, I head for my office and enter it, preparing for whatever doom is waiting for me.
I haven't seen the man in two months.
Two months without the devil hanging over me is like the sweetest of freedoms, even if I was always waiting for him to come back. I had hoped when I came face to face with the man who spent years stripping away my self-worth, it would be under different circumstances. That I could be staring back at him with my head up high, with a sarcastic notion that I knew something he didn't know, as if he only had hours to live before I soiled his evil plans.
Yet, I can't, and I'm about to face my monster without any serum to make him go away.
My nightmare continues, and I look up to the sky praying one last time for an ounce of strength to face this demon and not let him cut into my soul more than he already has.
"Dad, what are you doing here?" I plaster on my best fake smile for the man who is sitting in my chair with his feet propped on my desk.
Yes, just make yourself at home.
"What? Not happy to see me, princess?"
"Aren't you supposed to be on your honeymoon for another week?"
Or forever.
"I was, but I felt the need to cut my trip short early." He drops his feet from my desk and stands. Fixing his tie as he walks over to me, and I’m hit with the nauseating smell of cinnamon. "Want to tell me what you've been up to lately? Harry believes you've been acting funny. Going out a lot."
Shit.
Shit.
Shit.
I didn't think Harry was keeping tabs. He never did before as long as I kept up with appearances, which I have. He did his fucking thing, and I did mine.
"Nothing much. Business as usual." I shrug, acting like nothing is different, putting on my best poker face, pretending Jaxson isn’t working downstairs, and I’m not wearing his ring around my neck. Yep, no big deal, but at the same time, my heart is thumping out of my chest.
“Is that so?" His head tilts, and I swear he can sniff the lies out of me. Jaxson thinks I’m shit at lying, but right now, I really hope I can pick up the trait that my father seems to be a master at.
"Yeah. Now, if there's nothing else, I should get back to work."
I go to step around him when he grabs my arm and yanks me back.
"There is one more thing I need to discuss with you. I would like to bump up the wedding to this Friday."
My body freezes like hell has frozen over. "Why?"
“You lost us a huge deal and that doesn’t fly with me. We needed Donald Myers and you blew it. Though he’s an arrogant asshole thinking you were more important than Harry.” His lips twitch into a snarl. “So plans have changed. It’s time for your dear old dad to take back what is his. I never had trouble finding new investors. I don’t know what I was thinking waiting so long.”
I fucking knew something was rotten in Denmark. I smelled that dirty deal from far away.
"Don’t you think it would look suspicious, me giving up the company so quickly after I just got on?"
"No. It’s not like you know what the fuck you’re doing. Everyone knows that your grandfather left it to you because you were his little princess."
"That's not why," I grit out, and I feel my temperature rise even in this frosty environment. I hate the ass when he talks about my mom or grandfather in any sense. I hate when he brings up how they loved me.
"Oh yeah.” He snaps his fingers. “Because he wanted me to pay because he thinks I ruined his daughter and his hard earned business...when all I've done is make it flourish." He grins. "It didn't work and now here we are. Now back to the important matters."
"No. We're still getting to know each other. You promised me that."
He wanted to make it look like he tried retirement but missed working. A nice sob story he can sell.
"Like I said, plans change. You can get to know each other while you’re married."
"Dad. Please. Just give me some more time," I beg, and that’s when all hell breaks loose. Everything on my desk goes flying. Including the framed photo of my mom, the glass shatters on impact.
"Don't start with me, you fucking brat,” he shouts, his face turning red in his sudden fury. “I’m already tired of hearing your fucking mouth. The last thing you need is time.” As he stomps to me, he spots the shattered frame, my mother’s once happy face staring up at us. His foot lifts and it comes crashing down on the already battered picture, and the glass crackles under the force of his stomp. I flinch and close my eyes, trying to will my tears to not fall. The bastard always finds a way to add another blow to my fractured heart. It’s just like when he found the memory box Jax gave to me, the one that held the picture he just stomped on, and the one that I tried so hard to keep hidden from him. He took a hammer to it, smashing it into pieces and laughed while doing it as I cried.
Wanting away from his temper—just wanting him gone, period—I go along with it.
“Alright. When?”
What’s going to happen to me when he finds out about my non-divorce from Jaxson on my wedding day?
“Soon. I’ll let you know.” He touches my cheek, and I bristle under his touch. “You can make me so proud by just staying quiet.” I nod. “Good girl. I’ll be in touch.”
The chill in the air doesn’t leave when he does. In fact, it’s down to my bones with how wrong everything feels now.
Though I should feel relieved he doesn’t know about Jaxson, I don't. There's something not right deep down in my gut about everything. I pick up the phone, and the first person I want to call is Jaxson. But the line goes straight to voicemail. I try calling his extension and the same thing happens.
Where is he?
I need him.
The air around me is suffocating. Now, when I really need him, he's nowhere to be found. Even if reasonable me says he's just busy, there's another side that's screaming he's avoiding me. Either way, my anxiety wins and my heart clenches, causing my head to fall to my desk. I'm struggling to catch my breath through my tears, as the walls around me s
tart to close in.
I just want this day to be over.
And it's not even lunchtime.
Two hours later, I get an all-clear sign from Luna that my father has left the building. For two hours, I felt on pins and needles wondering what the bastard was doing walking around the building or what trouble he and Harry were causing.
As for me, I had to give a meeting with accounting with a blotchy red face, with a slit in my stockings because I caught them on a broken door hinge right before the meeting started all while pretending the world around me wasn't crashing down on my shoulders. That my father wasn't going to push up my wedding and possibly find out I’m still married. With my luck today, he's walking around the office and will find out that Jaxson has been working in this very building all along.
After changing out of my torn stockings, I make my way down to Sam's office. I let myself in and lock the door behind me.
"Hey," I say and plop in the chair beside her. I’m struggling to keep my heavy eyes open, my body giving way to exhaustion.
“There you are. I was wondering when I was going to see you."
"It’s been a hell of a morning. My father is back, and I’ve been waiting for him to leave."
"I know."
"He wasn't down here, was he?" I always worry about when my father steps into this building or steps into IT. Though everything Sam, Jax, and I have been working on is safeguarded, I don't trust the man not to snoop if he gets curious. Even if the possibility of him finding anything is slim to none.
"No, but um, haven't you seen the press release your father sent out this morning?" Sam squints her eyes, spying me nervously.
"Press release?"
Oh my god! What did he do?
"Shit." Sam spins back to her computer and types into the internet search. She types in my name and seconds later there are over twenty internet articles announcing my bumped up wedding to Harry. The pictures he included are from our original engagement announcement and Harry has me in his arms, kissing me. We look in love when, in fact, I was sick to my stomach.
I puked shortly after that picture was taken.
Then the piece de resistance, a picture of Harry with his hand on my stomach. I don’t know when that was taken but now there's a rumor of a baby on the way.
I fall back into the chair and feel the world spinning around me. Every time I turn around this day gets shittier and shittier. I'm not sure how much more I can take.
Keep breathing, River. Keep breathing.
I scream my mantra in my head, over and over again, hoping it will give me the relief as it usually does, but who am I kidding, I can barely breathe. My lungs are on fire as the world spins on its axis about to shoot me into orbit where no oxygen exists.
Jaxson. I need Jaxson.
Sam's hand lands on my shoulder, giving it a gentle rub as she tells me to try and relax. "This will be okay."
I don't even know how she can look at me and say that right now.
"Where's Jaxson?"
"He called me this morning and said he had to take care of something and would be in later, but I haven't heard from him. So, your guess is as good as mine."
My anxiety has now grown roots, and I'm finding myself unable to move from where I am, scared about what I'm going to find out or what’s going to happen when I lift my ass from this seat. Everything in my gut is telling me this is only the beginning.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
JAXSON
I’m drumming my fingers on the steering wheel, going over the events of this morning, trying with everything in me not to let it bug the fucking shit out of me, but I’m struggling to fight my selfish fucking needs.
I was on my way out the door this morning when my phone pinged with a google alert. I keep them on in case anything were to happen within Dolson Investments, Jeff, any of his investors, and of course, River. When I opened up the page, I wasn’t expecting to involuntarily hurl my phone across the room.
There, in big bold print, read:
River Graham, heir and CEO of Dolson Investments, to marry her true love Harry Lawrence on Friday in private ceremony.
Seeing the image of him kissing her and his hands all over her made me homicidal, thirsty for Harry's blood and whoever wrote the words true love.
She's getting married on Friday. Fucking Friday! I should be hearing this change of events directly from her mouth. Instead, the local news is giving me the four-one-one, which only feeds my rage.
Who the fuck knows if she was even going to tell me? It’s after ten now and I haven’t heard a word from her and this went out at eight this morning. There’s no way she doesn’t fucking know. I mean, she stayed at her place yesterday after having a dinner meeting with Harry last night. She probably knew then, and it's why I haven't heard from her since.
Now her ‘I want to run away’ comment from the airfield, the one she didn’t want to finish talking about, yells louder in my head. I was trying to push back the thoughts of her wanting to leave, figuring we had five more months to talk about it, but now, we have what appears to be days.
Days.
I slam my hand on the steering wheel. I want Jeffery Graham gone. I want my wife back. I want the drama that surrounds us that causes us not to be able to trust each other gone. We can have what we had back if that motherfucker could just dig his own grave and then hop in it and go to hell already.
He’s fucked with my life long enough.
Now I'm trying to go through the motions of this gray morning on my way to follow a lead.
I had started to examine the reason why Jeff would keep Harry around if the man isn't bringing in investors. His ability to read situations and his people skills suck. He’s nowhere near Jeff’s league. The man knows how to pull the wool over somebody’s eyes and make himself look like a great guy, with a sparkling personality. Hell, he even looks like the perfect father on the outside.
So, why would he pick Harry who can't put on a facade with anyone?
That's when I noticed the biggest find of all. It was sitting in front of us the whole time.
Now, I just have to confirm my theory and take a risk by talking to some of Jeff's high-end investors to get their take. I had already spoken to Dan Largo, the man who reinvested after being ready to run, and he wasn't pleased about the change in development.
Flashing lights appear behind me, and I glance down at my speed. I'm going the limit. What the hell does he want? I pull over, rolling down my window, and place my hands on the steering wheel waiting for the officer to approach me. It takes over five minutes for the pork belly officer to wobble his way out of his vehicle. Which only sets me off, because now I’m officially late for my meeting with one of the prime investors. I’ve had plenty of run ins with the law after the issues with my dad. I don’t trust many cops because of Jeff Graham. He’s made me suspicious of everyone. Especially tubby cop here who taps his pen on my door.
"License and registration," he grunts, flipping his sunglasses to the top of his head and narrowing his eyes at me.
"Why are you pulling me over?" I ask as I dig out my license from the wallet in my back pocket.
"This car matches the description of a car reported stolen this morning."
"You can't be serious," I bite out bitterly and reach into my glove box for my registration. "I've had this car since I was seventeen. Not many people own a classic 65 GTO in this shape." I shuffle through my papers, and I can't find my registration paper.
Fuck. I cleaned the glove box out a couple months ago and forgot to put it back.
"Registration?" The cop grumbles tapping his pen on my window, which makes my blood boil. Does he not know this is a classic?
"It seems I misplaced it. But you can look that up. The plates and VIN are all under my name."
"Very well. I'll be right back."
I throw my head back against my headrest. Stolen. What the fuck?
I glance out my rearview, tapping my fingers on my steering wheel when I see two more
cop cars pull in behind him. It's never good when three cops show up.
Two minutes later, the original cop is coming back to me, wielding his handcuffs. "I'm going to need you to step out of the car with your hands above your head."
"What for?" I bark.
"The car isn't stolen, but there's a warrant out for your arrest. Now step out of the car."
"Are you fucking kidding me? On what grounds?" I yell as another cop steps up to my car, his hand reaching for a weapon on his belt.
"An outstanding bench warrant. We need to bring you in. Now step out of the car with your hands above your head. I won’t ask you again."
"What? No, this is a mistake," I argue but do as I’m told. The last thing I need is for them to add on resisting arrest to my bullshit charges. The arresting officer grabs my hands and shoves them behind my back, slapping the cuffs on me. “I’m serious, you’re making a mistake.”
“We don’t make mistakes, Mr. Holden,” the officer grumbles and leads me to his cruiser. He shoves my head down and forces me into the back of his cruiser.
“Wait, my car! What the fuck are you going to do with my car?”
"It'll be towed."
"Towed. Oh, fuck that. Can't someone come pick it up? It’s a 65 Pontiac."
A wrecker will ding the fucking hell out of it.
"No."
"There better not be one fucking scratch on her," I bark as the officer slams the door on me. Asshole! I throw my head back against the seat. Fucking great this day has turned out to be. Fucking arrested and they’re going to dent my car.
I'm hauled into the police station and thrown into a holding cell with a meth head and someone else that hasn’t taken a shower in a couple of years. "Don't I get a phone call or some shit?" I yell out to one of the officers walking by who just laughs at me.
"This isn't the movies. You'll need to fucking wait."
Fucker.
RIVER
When I enter Jaxson’s apartment all the lights are off and the only sound is coming from the hum of the fridge. I flip on the living room lights and throw my bag onto the couch.
Barely Breathing (Keep Breathing Book 1) Page 14
