by Coralee June
“Fuck,” I exhaled before relaxing. “It’s Jack’s younger son,” I explained to Officer Anders and Detective Josie. I wasn’t sure why I didn’t just call Hamilton my uncle. The title still felt strange to me, probably because I couldn’t wipe the sight of him fucking Colleen from my mind.
Josie was holstering her Glock when Hamilton rounded the corner and took in the scene. He looked good, with his hair pushed back and a threadbare navy blue shirt stretched across his massive chest. There was a smudge of grease on his cheek, and a single bead of sweat rolled down his temple. “What’s going on here?”
He then eyed me, his severe expression softening some. “Vera? Are you okay?”
It felt like I’d swallowed my tongue. Officer Anders answered for me, likely assuming my silence was a result of how traumatizing the day had been for me. “Mr. Beauregard, I’m Officer Anders. We received a distress call from Vera Garner this morning. I’m sure you remember Saint Torrance?”
Hamilton huffed. “Yeah. I know the guy.” He then turned to look at me. “He bother you, Vera?”
I nodded while biting my lip. “Yeah,” I finally choked out.
“Fuck.” Hamilton turned to look at the officers. “Thank you for being here. My father is gone this week, right? Has he been made aware that Saint broke the protection order—again?”
“He’s in DC for the week,” Detective Josie confirmed. “His assistant said he will call us soon. We were just assuring Miss Garner that she has nothing to worry about.”
“I’ll stay here to make sure she’s safe. I’ve dealt with Saint before,” Hamilton replied.
A few more pleasantries were exchanged, but I simply sat on the edge of my seat, numb to the entire conversation. It wasn’t until Officer Anders was wishing me well that I realized I was alone with Hamilton.
“What are you doing here?” I asked Hamilton after he shut the front door.
He froze for a moment, as if my question surprised him. “I sometimes like to stop by if I think Dad is out of town. My mom loved it here, and his whiskey stash is pretty legit.”
That made sense. I guess if I had a fancy home at my disposal, I’d also drop in whenever I could. But why wait until his father was gone? “Well. Enjoy the house, I’m going to get a hotel for the night,” I said before standing up. I was still pretty shaken up, and I had zero desire to stay here.
Hamilton took a step closer to me. “I can stay here with you tonight? I know it can be pretty overwhelming the first time.”
I shook my head in confusion while squinting my eyes. “The first time?”
Hamilton folded his lips between his teeth and nodded at his father’s bar cart. “Want one?” he asked.
“No. I’m good.”
I crossed my arms over my chest as I watched him, waiting for an explanation to his words. What did he mean, first time? He pulled a bottle of Bacardi out and let out a low whistle before pouring himself a glass. “The first time I realized my life was no longer my own, I was in the second grade,” he explained before finding a second glass and pouring a shot in there. Sauntering over to me, he continued his story while holding out a glass for me to take. “You’re going to need this. Every Beauregard knows that trauma pairs well with alcohol.” I wrapped my fingers around the cool glass and took it from him.
“You were saying?”
He lifted his cup and eyed me over the rim before taking a burning swig. I eyed the steady bob of his Adam’s apple. He licked his lips and continued. “My father had just gotten elected to—ah—I think district representative? I can’t remember. He’s had so many titles and roles over the years. His perfectionist platform gained him a lot of enemies. People like to poke holes in the lies politicians tell. It’s human nature.”
I swallowed a sip of my drink and let the burning liquid saturate my throat and warm my chest. “Everyone likes Jack,” I murmured.
“Everyone thinks they like Jack,” he amended. “The first scandal of our family hit. A very young woman came forward claiming she was my real mother. We looked alike. We looked scarily alike. I was at school when the news hit, and the paparazzi swarmed the front lawn. They had to pull me out of class. I spent years dodging their questions. Oddly enough, I didn’t hate them, though,” he said before spinning around and walking over to a towering set of windows overlooking the yard. “Suppose it’s hard to hate someone brave enough to ask the questions I was too afraid to. To this day, I don’t know if that woman was telling the truth.”
Fuck. I couldn’t imagine. “Don’t you want to know?” I asked.
Hamilton spun around to face me, wearing a smile that looked a little too scripted, a little too political. Did he get his convincing nature from his father or from years of trying to be something he wasn’t?
“It wouldn’t make a difference. I have—had—a mother.” This was getting pretty deep and fast. I took another sip. “All I’m trying to say is you’re going to have to get used to it. The moment Joseph married your mother, your life changed forever. Slowly, Jack is going to ask things of you. Slowly, they’re going to polish you up and use you like a prop. The world is intrusive and chronically curious. They thrive on finding your dirty laundry and airing it out to dry.”
“I don’t have any dirty laundry.” That was a lie. My entire existence was the dirtiest of laundry.
Hamilton smiled before stepping closer to me. “Not yet,” he whispered.
“Not ever,” I gritted.
Hamilton’s eyes thinned to slits. He took a step closer. I took a step back. Back. Back. He pressed on until I collided with the wall. A nearby photo frame nailed to the drywall shook at the force of my landing. “All I’m saying is, you’re better off getting used to it now.” He caged me in, one of his palms landing beside my head. I was overwhelmed with his scent and emboldened by the way his muscles flexed and curled around me. It felt both predatory and freeing.
How dare he. “Is that why you work in an oil rig offshore and show up late to your only brother’s wedding?” I asked before looking to my left at the hanging portrait now swaying on its perch. It was a painted depiction of Jack and Joseph. “You aren’t even in the family portrait.” I clicked my tongue and reached up to brace my palms against his chest.
“I prefer to be all or nothing,” he whispered while leaning closer despite my pushes.
“I prefer to stay at a hotel tonight,” I replied.
Hamilton smiled, as if my answer was somehow the right thing to say. “Then let’s get you a damn hotel room, huh?”
4
Hamilton was all too happy to take Jack’s prized Aston Martin for a spin. He’d driven his motorcycle to Jack’s house and didn’t have a helmet for me to wear. I was fine with getting an Uber, but he insisted on escorting me to a hotel and taking Jack’s classic ride. Something told me he just wanted an excuse to get behind the wheel of a three-hundred-thousand-dollar car.
Hamilton kept eyeing me with his dark gaze as we drove down the winding roads toward the city. Jack’s property was in a gated, secluded subdivision about thirty minutes from town, and the scenic road was lined with luxury cars and limos. It felt like the road to wealth, and the subtle divide between classes became clearer the closer we got to the city.
Before we left, Hamilton mentioned that he had a perfect place for me to stay where I’d feel safe from Saint. I didn’t really care where I went, I just wanted out of the Beauregard house and away from the terror I’d felt earlier today. There was a time when Mom and I lived in some pretty bad places, but never had I felt so scared. “Did Saint say anything to you?” Hamilton finally asked once we’d gotten to a red light.
It was on the tip of my tongue to tell him what Saint said about my mother’s marriage, but I swallowed it. “He asked me if I knew about your mother,” I admitted. “He seems to think there’s some scandal to uncover about her death.”
Hamilton gripped the steering wheel, and he curled his lip. “Everyone loved my mom,” he replied, his words careful and somehow ca
lculating. “I’ve heard plenty of theories surrounding her death over the years. I’m not surprised that he’s still fixated on that. People like to cling to conspiracy theories and gossip when someone wealthy dies young.”
I leaned against the window while staring at him. “Jack never told me how she died,” I replied. “Saint mentioned a heart condition but wasn’t very convinced. I just think it’s disrespectful to dig up the past like that. Jack is always so sad when he brings her up. I can’t imagine losing your mom. He loved her.”
Hamilton ran his tongue over his teeth and stared at the road. “He didn’t love her. Not really. And you won’t have to imagine it,” he snapped back. “You’ll lose yours soon enough. If my brother has anything to say about it.” My words had obviously angered him, because he accelerated a bit harshly once the light turned green. “Fucking heart condition. What a joke.” Hamilton’s tone was bitter as he weaved in and out of traffic.
“What is that supposed to mean?” I asked. “What do you mean I’ll lose her too?” My heart was racing. I grabbed the handle mounted on the door and squeezed my legs together as he went even faster down the road. The yellow lines dividing the street became a blur as we passed buildings, trees, and other cars. “Fuck,” I cursed when he narrowly missed a pedestrian. Hamilton didn’t even seem bothered.
“I meant exactly that. You’re going to lose your mom, too. Not in the same way as I did, but Joseph is a possessive fucker. He won’t let anyone in his life who isn’t completely devoted to him. And if someone is in the way, he gets rid of them. You’re a glaring reminder of imperfection, and the Beauregards like to sweep their imperfections under the rug.”
What an ominous statement. Get rid of them? What did that even mean?
Hamilton’s words were coming from a place of anger, but they rang true. I felt it in my gut that Joseph was slowly pushing me out and using everything at his disposal to do so. “My mom wouldn’t push me away,” I argued as he passed a school bus, nearly clipping the side of it.
“He makes it impossible to say no. He buys people. He uses every tool at his disposal to get what he wants.”
When Hamilton swerved to cut off a Tesla, I’d had enough. “Can you please stop driving like an asshole?” I asked on a gasp.
He winced, then slowed down. “Right. Sorry,” he muttered.
I watched the speedometer for a long moment before speaking again. “You really hate Joseph, huh?” I asked, fishing for more information.
“It’s not an easy task, but I do. It’s hard to hate family. You feel obligated to love them. Blood can be a curse if you aren’t careful.”
I swallowed. It was like Hamilton had spoken my greatest fears. I was the family forced on my mother; Joseph and this new baby were the family she’d chosen. In the end, would she have enough room for me?
Hot tears filled my eyes, and I nervously swatted them, praying that Hamilton didn’t think I was crazy for crying in the front seat. We barely knew one another.
“Obligatory love is the worst kind of love,” I whispered in agreement.
Hamilton turned to me, concern marring his expression. I swatted another tear as he kept glancing at me. “Oh, Vera,” he said before turning into a parking lot full of townhomes. “Don’t cry.”
“I’m fine,” I snapped when he patted my leg. It was a tender but quick touch, and I had the sudden urge to grab his hand.
He pulled his hand back and parked before turning off the car. I looked around, not sure where we were. “I thought you were taking me to a hotel. What’s this?” I asked, my voice rough with emotion. I wasn’t expecting to get so worked up by his comment. It had been such a difficult day. I just wanted to get cozy and go to sleep.
“My house,” Hamilton replied with a polite grin before getting out of the car and walking up the sidewalk to a front door painted navy blue. I looked around at the white wood townhomes with manicured lawns. It was a middle-class neighborhood full of starter homes with young kids playing on the street, dogs barking, and trees swaying in the wind. It wasn’t exactly what I was expecting of Hamilton. A bachelor pad would have been more appropriate.
I opened the door and grabbed my duffel bag. “This isn’t a hotel, Hamilton,” I called at his back as he fumbled with his keys and unlocked the door.
“This is safer. Plus, I have ingredients for a killer taco casserole,” he replied over his shoulder before going inside. I gaped at him for a moment before sighing and following after him.
No sooner had I walked through the front door than a large gray ball of floof had launched for me. I giggled at the deep, excited bark and dropped to my knees to pet my new friend, all thoughts of Saint and being at Hamilton’s house long gone. I loved dogs. Mom never let me get one because they were an “unnecessary expense,” but once I was done with school, I was totally getting my own little rescue.
“Oh my goodness, hey there, girl!” I scratched behind her ears. I didn’t really know what her breed was. She had dark gray short hair and a wide snout. Her eyes were a deep chocolate color, and her short tail wagged excitedly as I gave her a hug.
“What’s your name?” I asked. “I bet it’s perfect because you are just the best little buddy ever,” I cooed. Hamilton cleared his throat, and I looked up at him. Leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest, he had an amused look on his face.
“Her name is Little Mama. Found her in an alley with four pups. I couldn’t leave them. After finding all her babies homes, I decided to keep her for myself. My roommate watches her when I’m on the rig.”
“Little Mama,” I squealed. Okay, her name was the cutest name ever. “If you ever need a dog sitter, let me know. Mom never let me have a dog,” I said with a pout.
Hamilton grabbed a leash hanging on the wall, and Little Mama forgot all about me. He clicked it onto her collar as I stood up. I didn’t wait for an invitation to join the two of them on a walk, and the three of us went outside and started exploring the sidewalk. “I might take you up on the dog sitting thing. My roommate got a girlfriend who’s supposedly the love of her life, and wants to move in with her. This new girlfriend is allergic to dogs, so I’m trying to figure out what I’m going to do with Little Mama while I’m gone.”
Hamilton paused as Little Mama sniffed a bush.
“I’m not sure what my new apartment’s rules are on dogs. Actually, I’ve never even seen the apartment. Or my new college.” I scowled as Little Mama did her business.
“You’re going to Greenwich?” Hamilton asked. I nodded and we kept walking. “I’m about fifteen minutes from campus. Dad—Jack—wanted me to go, but it wasn’t really my thing,” Hamilton said. I swallowed my questions about why he called his father by his first name. I had no room to talk, I sometimes found myself saying Lilah instead of Mom.
“How long have you worked on the rig?” I asked.
“Jack got me the job when I turned eighteen,” Hamilton replied as a jogger passed us by on the sidewalk. His voice was laced with a tone I couldn’t quite process. “I wasn’t going anywhere in life. I guess you could say it was an offer I couldn’t refuse.”
Little Mama started pulling us along, practically dragging her nose along the concrete as we went. “It must be hard,” I murmured.
“What?”
“Being gone for weeks at a time. Your routine is constantly changing, and you flip between two homes.”
Hamilton slowed his steps, and Little Mama whined. He looked me up and down, as if debating on telling me something. “I guess—”
My phone started ringing, cutting him off before he could say anything. “Sorry,” I began. “I need to answer this.” I pulled my cell out of my purse and tossed him an apologetic smile before answering.
“Vera? Are you okay?” Jack’s voice rushed out. “I’m firing my assistant. I can’t believe she told you that I would call you back. Where are you? Are you safe? I’ll be on the next flight home.”
“Jack, I’m fine,” I replied, interrupting his ra
mbling. Hamilton nodded his head once before continuing to walk toward a patch of grass for Little Mama. I watched his back while speaking to Jack. “The police arrived and took my statement. Apparently, this isn’t the first time?”
Jack cursed. “Vera, I am so sorry. I’ll head home now. I’m sure you’re shaken up. You don’t need to be alone right now…”
“I’m not alone,” I whispered. Hamilton bent down to scratch behind Little Mama’s ears. He was grinning at her, the hard lines of his face twisting into a playful smirk.
“Oh? Did Joseph and Lilah come home early?”
“Hamilton showed up,” I replied. “He just so happened to be in the area and saw the cops out front. He offered to let me stay at his place tonight.” The other end of the phone line went silent. After a few awkward moments, I spoke again. “Jack?”
“Yes. Sorry, I’m here. Hamilton was in the area?” Jack’s voice sounded oddly emotional. “Was he coming to see me? Does he need anything?”
“He, uh, hasn’t mentioned anything.”
“Right. Of course.”
Jack went silent again, and Hamilton headed back toward me. He mouthed You okay? while watching me clutch my cell to my ear.
“I’m going to head home early. You said you’re staying with Hamilton?”
“Yeah. We’re at his house now.”
“Good. Good. Stay there. I’ll be there by morning to get you moved into your new apartment. Can you do me a favor?”
“Of course,” I replied.
“Tell Hamilton thank you. And, uh, tell him I’m glad he was in the area. And that he is always welcome home. And that I miss him. Actually, never mind. I’ll just text him. Does he seem okay?” Jack asked, his voice quiet. “Does he seem happy?”
I looked Hamilton in the eye. There was something dark hidden in the depths of his charcoal gaze. I couldn’t quite put my finger on it, but it wasn’t my assumption to make or my story to tell. “Yeah, Jack,” I whispered.
“I’ll see you in the morning,” Jack replied gruffly before hanging up.