But she’d played every part perfectly, worming her way into my life and digging her claws in deep without my knowledge. While not cluing me in to her asinine plans until it was too late.
“So you were friends?” Avery summarized.
“Yes, sure. I mean, we weren’t close by any means, but I had her pegged as a bored girl who just wanted to have a good time.” Little did I realize she was stealing from her drunk-ass friends and essentially impersonating them to fit into the lifestyle.
I refocused on the television, my mind darkening with the memories I hated to relive. But Avery wanted a story, so I’d give her one.
“Your sister had me fooled, and several others, too. Which is why my buddy Powell didn’t really question her intentions when she came to visit us in New York City about five years ago, claiming she needed a place to crash.”
Biggest fucking mistake of my life.
“She brought some friends. Alcohol was flowing. Typical Friday night.” My hands curled into fists, the memory clear in my mind. Until it wasn’t. “They warn women not to accept drinks from men they don’t know, but they rarely warn men. Well, your sister played me very, very well.” Because I’d accepted the drink she’d handed me without a thought. Noted the sour element to it, but I drank it anyway.
And woke up the next morning with the world’s worst hangover.
Avery gasped, her mind piecing the clues together. “And that’s when she drugged you.” Not a question but a statement. I’d already given her the brief version. This was just the elaborated one.
Rather than confirm her statement, I stood, needing something cool to soothe my suddenly dry throat. I found a bottle of water in the fridge and grabbed the wine from the counter for Avery, knowing she’d intended to pour herself another glass.
She couldn’t meet my gaze when I joined her on the couch again, so I left about a foot of space between us.
Dredging through the past killed whatever desire I harbored. Which was good. I needed to remember this shit because I’d been about to let my dick lead me down a similar path.
I knew nothing about this woman apart from her ancestry.
She was a fucking Perry.
They were skilled in the art of deception.
I knew that from experience. And wow, I’d almost been played. Again. What the fuck was wrong with me? I needed to give myself some space, to stop allowing my hormones to make decisions for me. What if Avery wanted to trap me, too? Create another kid to double the child support?
She didn’t know anything about the money.
Or so she claims…
I glanced around her home again, frowning. None of it added up. The only logical explanation was that Avery really knew nothing, and her reactions now were one of disgust and shock, which suggested Jean had never told her this horror story.
But she could still be acting.
Right?
I ran my hand over my face, then downed the water from my bottle and shook my head. “This was a mistake.” I couldn’t seduce a woman I had so many concerns about. Trusting Avery might not be required to lure her into the bedroom, but I needed to be able to trust my own reactions to her afterward. And as of this moment, I couldn’t.
“What?” she asked, the color draining from her face. “What do you mean?”
“Nothing.” I stood, shaking my head again. “Nothing, Avery. I’m retiring for the night. I’ll see you in the morning.”
14
Avery
I hit Send on my final work email of the day and checked the clock—four in the afternoon.
“Holy crap,” I breathed, shocked.
It was the first time in months I felt caught up. All of my project spreadsheets were updated, every single task completed ahead of the due date, and my meetings for the next phase were already scheduled.
This had to be the most productive two weeks in the history of my employment.
I powered off my laptop and tucked it into my bag. Wyatt would be picking up Jamie right about now, a task he seemed to have adopted over the last fourteen days. I went with him the first Monday, only because I worried about the change in routine. However, he proved capable and offered to go alone the following day. And it’d become our routine ever since.
Which had afforded me the rare opportunity to return to the office for more than a few hours a week. Hence my clean desk and work-free weekend ahead. I couldn’t remember the last time that had happened.
I slid on my jacket, pulled my laptop bag and purse over one shoulder, and locked up my office. My phone rang just as I turned on the car.
Recognizing Wyatt’s number, I picked up the call. “Hello?”
“Auntie A!” Jamie’s voice sang through the speakers of my SUV. “Guess what?”
“It’s Friday,” I said, knowing exactly where this was going. “Pizza day.”
“Yesssssss, but tha’s not ittttt,” he sing-songed.
“More goose games?”
“Nope.”
“Hmm.” I drew out the hum while I worked on navigating out of the parking lot. Fortunately, my office wasn’t too far from home, so I wouldn’t be playing in Atlanta area afternoon traffic for too long. “Did you draw something new today?” I guessed again, turning right onto the four-lane road.
“Nope.”
“I think you need to give her a hint,” Wyatt said, his deep voice amused. Just hearing it sent a flurry of goose bumps down my arms. He’d been the epitome of professional roommate these last two weeks, giving me space and helping as needed while keeping his hands to himself. It was as if that conversation about Jean had flipped a switch between us, one that defined any flirtation as forbidden and wrong.
Which I appreciated, especially after catching him in the hallway in nothing but a towel—twice. But I couldn’t seem to stop reacting to him.
Whenever he stepped too close, my heart rate escalated.
His voice warmed me in a way it shouldn’t.
His smile tempted me.
His body, well, it was a work of art. The man liked to run every morning, and I’d made it part of my routine to watch him whenever he returned because he usually showed up shirtless. Wrong, perhaps. But fuck, he was hot.
Ugh, I hated feeling this way about him.
He slept with Jean. Sure, it hadn’t exactly been consensual, but it still seemed wrong to lust after him. And he clearly didn’t feel the same way. Whatever game he’d been playing those first few days had died, and all he’d done since was act as the perfect father to his child. Something I adored and hated at the same time.
There was absolutely no way I would find him unfit as a parent.
None whatsoever.
Yet, he could take Jamie whenever he wanted. A concern that—
“Auntie A!” Jamie yelled through the speaker.
I shook my head, clearing it. “What, dude?”
“Why aren’t you guessing?” he demanded. “I tolds you tha’ we’re going on a thing that flieesssssss. Highhhhh up, Auntie A. Can you guesssss? Guess? Guess…” He started to chant loudly, causing me to frown.
“Fly?” I repeated, my heart skipping a beat. “Like on a plane?”
“Yesssss!” he cheered. “Zoom! Zoom!”
“Like, right now?” I asked, my voice cracking at the end.
This couldn’t be happening.
He’d just misunderstood whatever Wyatt had told him.
It’s fine.
They weren’t actually going—
“Nooooow, Auntie A. Yesss. Are you not listenin’? ’Cause I already explains it to you.”
Wyatt chuckled in the background while my hands gripped the steering wheel. “You’re going on a plane? Right now?”
“Yep.”
My lungs burned from the lack of air, my eyesight blurring. I pulled off the road into a complex and parked the car, my heart in my throat. “Where are you going?” I asked.
“New…” His voice trailed off. “How you say, again?”
“New Orle
ans,” Wyatt said slowly.
“New Or-lenssss,” Jamie repeated, confirming my worst fears.
“When?” I squeaked.
“Now, Auntie A. She’s not hearing good. Here. You explains better.” There was a fumbling of the phone, a swish of sound.
And the line went dead.
“Jamie?” I knew he couldn’t hear me, but his name left my lips anyway. And again. Twice more. Before my brain kicked in and I dialed back Wyatt’s number.
It went straight to voicemail.
This had to be a misunderstanding, some sort of fucked-up joke.
We were fine.
Everything was fine.
We were even getting along. Or so I thought. Why would he…? No. No, he wouldn’t. He’d… He’d talk to me, right?
His lawyer’s words replayed through my thoughts…
“Wyatt can void the agreement at will should he decide the arrangement is no longer suitable, and he maintains full custody of his son. You, Miss Perry, are in no way considered the primary caregiver by law, meaning Wyatt can remove Jamie at any time.”
“But he would tell me…,” I whispered to no one. “He’d tell me if he was taking Jamie.”
I tried his phone again.
Still voicemail.
“This is all just a misunderstanding,” I told myself. “A mistake. They’ll be home when I get there.”
Except they weren’t.
Wyatt’s SUV was nowhere to be found when I pulled into the garage twenty minutes later, my hands clammy, my eyes refusing to blink.
My heart stuttered as I entered the house, Jamie’s name falling from my lips on autopilot as I checked every room.
I called again. And again. And it never fucking rang. Just a monotone telling me I’d reached the voicemail of Wyatt’s phone number. I left a message. It was incoherent. So I hit Redial and tried again. But words seemed to be failing me.
Jamie’s stuff was still in his room.
Wyatt’s, too.
But they were gone.
Nowhere to be found.
I ran through the house, checking the garage again. Nothing. This… I couldn’t… No.
A paper on the kitchen counter caught my eye. My name was at the top.
“Try to relax this weekend,” I read out loud. “Wyatt.” I blinked at the spa schedule laid out beneath it. He’d booked me a massage and pedicure. “Is this some sort of fucking joke?” I demanded, glaring at the offending item.
Had he really just taken the most important person in my life from me and expected me to relax?
I grabbed my phone and dialed Scott, which, of course, went to his voicemail as well.
Was no one in this world available?
I can call the police.
And tell them what? The father of my sister’s child had taken him from me? I had no legal rights. That was the whole purpose of the adoption that never happened because Wyatt showed up.
My knees buckled beneath me.
I landed hard on the kitchen floor, the spa schedule in one hand, my phone in the other.
“What do I do?” I whispered. “Jamie…” I wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I… I thought we were in a good place. I thought Wyatt would at least work with me on this, not just take my only reason for being from me.
A choked sound left my throat.
Jamie…
He’d been my world for four years. My everything. To have him ripped from me…
“…if I said yes, that I plan to take him with me, what would you do?”
Wyatt’s cruel words played through my heart, my head, my being. He’d warned me in his own way this might happen. Then lulled me into a false sense of comfort, just to cruelly rip apart my world in the span of seconds.
I curled on the floor into a ball, tears rolling down my cheeks as I fought to remember how to breathe. But the ache in my chest made it impossible.
“Jamie…” I thought I’d at least have a chance to say goodbye before this happened, could have at least spoken to him… explained. Told him how much I loved him. Worked out a deal to see him.
But I didn’t even know where Wyatt would take him in New Orleans. Didn’t have another number to reach him… and the one I had refused to fucking ring! “How could you do this to me?” I begged, sobbing. I didn’t know if it was to his voicemail or to the room, and I couldn’t bring myself to care.
Why did it always fall on me to pay for my sister’s sins? Because this had to be what it was about, his cruel chance at revenge.
And yes, what she did to him was horrible. “But it wasn’t me… It’s not me… I love him… my Jamie…” My stomach heaved from the onslaught of emotion, my body shivering and heating at the same time. “Why?!”
The phone began to buzz, and I answered immediately. “Jamie?”
“No, it’s Scott. What’s going on, Avery? Your voicemail was incoherent.”
My chest deflated, all my hope gone. “He took him,” I whispered. “He’s gone.”
“What?” Scott’s confusion came through in that single word. “Are you talking about Jamie?”
“He took him,” I repeated, unable to say anything else, my heart broken beyond repair.
“Wyatt?”
I nodded, then realized he couldn’t see me and muttered something in the affirmative. Or, at least, I tried to, but it came out more like a cry.
“I need you to take a few deep breaths and tell me what’s going on, Avery.”
Deep breaths. I almost laughed, which created another strangled sound.
“Avery, honey, I can’t help you if I don’t know what’s going on. Where did Wyatt take Jamie?”
“New Orleans,” I managed, my voice soft and broken. “He took him to New Orleans.”
15
Wyatt
“Why the hell are you ignoring my calls?” Garrett demanded as he entered my New Orleans condo without knocking. He’d mentioned his plans to fly in from Houston for the weekend, but I’d expected him to bother my brother upstairs. Not pester me.
This was why I hated family gatherings. No one understood the importance of personal space.
“You’re not planning to brood all weekend alone with the kid, are you?” he asked, sounding exasperated. “Because that’s boring as hell.”
“Could you keep your voice down? I just got Jamie to fall asleep.” The kid had been all amped up after the flight and dinner. He’d wanted to call Auntie A to tell her all about his night, then started crying when I reminded him why he couldn’t. It took thirty minutes to calm him down and convince him I wasn’t mad. “As to why I’m not answering, Jamie dropped my phone at the airport.”
Where it had shattered into pieces.
Technically, we could have used a landline to call Avery tonight, but I really wanted to give her the weekend off. The woman worked so damn hard. She deserved a break.
“The kid is in bed already?” Garrett glanced at his watch. “It’s only nine.”
“Yeah, his bedtime is seven thirty,” I replied. “Eastern.” Avery would be pissed if she knew how late I’d let him stay up. After observing her over the last two and a half weeks, I’d learned a few things about the habits she’d instilled in Jamie. She was, quite simply, amazing with him.
Which was why I’d decided on this spur-of-the-moment trip.
I needed a vacation away from Avery Perry before I did something stupid. Like kiss her again. And then fuck her up against a wall.
The damn female chipped at my resolve more each day, proving with every second how different she was from her sister. But my past left me conflicted, unable to trust, and Avery deserved better than that.
Nothing between us could be just a fling. Not with Jamie sitting right in the middle of our future.
Hence, I’d agreed to travel here for a tux fitting—for a wedding I still didn’t want to attend—because I needed a distraction. I couldn’t handle two full days of Avery being in the house and easily accessible. Not with my impulses running so damn hot around her.<
br />
She was probably home right now, watching a movie in those sexy-as-sin yoga pants and tank top. If she wore those around me one more time, I couldn’t be held liable for ripping them off to explore the curves beneath.
Just thinking about the prospect of it made me hard as a rock.
I’m so fucked.
“Bedtime?” Garrett’s mocking tone brought me back to him in the living room. “Look at you, sounding like a dad.”
Asshole. “I am a dad.” Something that had become increasingly evident over the last few weeks—an experience I wouldn’t turn down for anything in the world.
“True.” He collapsed onto one of the recliner chairs near the floor-to-ceiling windows and braced his elbows on his knees. “Speaking of which, Kincaid is on his way here to deliver the details on the Perrys. Something I would have given you more of a notice about had you answered your phone.”
“Ordering a new one is on my task list for tomorrow.” Assuming I even had time. I left Garrett for the freshly stocked fridge and grabbed a water and a beer. Finding a bottle opener, I popped off the bottle cap and returned to the living area.
“Thanks,” Garrett said, accepting the beer and taking a long swallow. “It’s weird meeting with you here.”
I snorted as I sat on the couch across from him, kicking up my feet onto the coffee table. “Tell me about it.”
I hadn’t set foot inside this property in almost five years, despite owning it. This was, after all, one of the family residences inside the Mershano Suites home location in downtown New Orleans. Evan owned the penthouse on the top floor, while Jonah had assigned me to the floor just below it.
Garrett’s phone rang, causing him to answer with a “What?” He listened, his expression darkening. “What part of I’m taking the weekend off didn’t you get?” He shook his head. “No. That was a rhetorical question. I pay you to field calls. So field them. I’ll handle things on Monday.” He paused again, sighing. “Is someone dying?” He arched a brow. “Have any of my clients been arrested?” He snorted. “Then it can wait until Monday. Goodbye, Alicia.”
The Rebel’s Redemption: Mershano Empire Series Page 10