For Farah.
For years I’d put up with the shit my parents shoveled, content to keep my head down and bide my time until the old bastard retired and I could finally move out from beneath his thumb.
Then one night changed everything.
My sister was the only person I’d ever had that I could depend on, the only person in my whole pathetic life who really and truly loved me. When she almost died, my world nearly ended as well. I’d been a wreck at the thought of losing her.
Farah was the embodiment of everything Geoffrey and Margo weren’t. She was kind to their cruel, warm to their frigid cold. My baby sister was loyal to a fault, whereas the people who brought her into this world didn’t have a single caring bone in their bodies.
Farah had the biggest, most loving heart of anyone I’d ever known while their chests sat black and hollow.
When our parents turned their backs on her during a time when she needed them the most, blaming her for being attacked instead of caring for the broken girl she’d become after that night, I could no longer sit idly by.
The money, the prestige, their cushy lifestyle; those had always been their priority above all else, including their own children.
But then they’d almost destroyed the one person I’d gladly give my life to protect. Hell, they’d gone out of their way to tear her down when she was at her very lowest. For that, they needed to pay, and I’d set out to make sure they did.
They could do whatever they wanted to me, but I wouldn’t allow their treatment of my sweet sister to go unpunished. I’d protected Farah her whole life, it was in my blood, and even though she had a man now who’d fight and die for her, I couldn’t break that habit.
“There is no price.”
At my response, his back went stiff. “There’s always a price.”
“Not this time.” I pressed the intercom button on my phone and waited for my assistant Wynn’s voice to come through.
“Yes, Mr. Hyland?”
“Wynn, please send security in.”
“You got it, sir.”
My father’s face drained of all color as, seconds later, two security guards stepped into my office, hovering just inside the door.
“This isn’t about blackmail, old man,” I informed him. “This was simply a courtesy. Everything in that file has already been passed along to the board. They voted last night. You’re out. The company lawyers are already hard at work, doing everything they can to get back the money you stole from us. That means your house, your cars, and that pretty little black Amex Mom is so fond of will be gone. By the time they’re finished, there won’t be anything left.
“Now, you have two choices. You can go quietly, or you can fight us. In which case, the board will file criminal charges, and everything I’ve just shown you will be leaked to the press during what I’m sure will be a lengthy and very public trial.” I kicked my legs out and crossed my ankles. “So what’s it going to be?”
“You selfish little prick!” he bellowed, coming out of his chair. “You think for one fucking second I’m going to let you get away with this? You’ve lost your mind!”
Security moved fast, charging my father and grabbing him by the arms.
“It’s already done,” I stated casually. “And I suggest you take some time to think about your next move. Your assets are being frozen as we speak. You’ll be lucky if you can afford a public defender after the company recoups its losses.”
He struggled against the bigger men’s hold on him as he continued to bluster. “You pious little shit! You won’t get away with this!”
“I already have.” I flicked my hand out casually to the security guards. “We’re done. Get him out of here. And make sure to take his security badge so he can’t get back inside the building.”
My father continued cursing and raving as he was all but dragged from my office. I didn’t feel the slightest twinge of guilt. The tyrant was gone. In one fell swoop, I’d stripped my parents of the only things they’d ever cared about. The esteemed title my father so proudly flaunted was no longer his to claim. I’d blown their house of cards over, watching gleefully as it toppled to the ground.
The score had been settled, and after so many years, I’d finally made sure my sister had come out on top, and her lifelong tormentors were done for.
Chapter Three
Jase
It had taken two days after my father’s termination for the board of directors to convene, and when I’d walked into this conference room a mere ten minutes ago, I’d still been riding the high of taking my father down. Now I was stuck in a freefall.
“You’ve got to be kidding.”
The men sitting around the long, imposing table didn’t bat an eye as they stared on, looking down their smug, bulbous noses.
After everything that had happened, this meeting was supposed to be my victory lap. But with just a handful of words from these pompous men, the icing on the cake I’d been working toward for what felt like an eternity turned to sawdust in my mouth.
I’d dragged every one of my old man’s skeletons out of the closet and into the light, but apparently that wasn’t enough for them.
“Tell me this is some kind of joke.”
Henry Davis, the longest running member of Hyland Steel’s Board of Directors spoke up. “This is no joke. It should come as no surprise to you that we’re all aware of your reputation. You’re known far and wide as a serial dater and womanizer. Hell, son, the entire building knows all about you taking up with that woman from Purchasing. You’ve never once bothered to keep your indiscretions a secret. What did you expect?”
My jaw ticked as I tried to keep my anger in check. “My reputation and who I sleep with shouldn’t have anything to do with this. I was slated to take over as CEO upon my father’s retirement. I don’t see how that has changed.”
“The damage this current scandal could cause has the potential to be catastrophic as it is. Your father’s dug this company into a hole we’ll be lucky to climb out of. You can’t possibly expect us to put you in the role of CEO without some . . . assurances.”
I stared at the man across the table, with his pockmarked cheeks and sweaty jowls, and tried to untangle the knots that had formed in my gut. “I’m the one who uncovered my father’s malfeasance. I’m the one who brought this to your attention. I’ve always had the company’s best interests at heart, and you know that, Henry.”
Gordon Katz, one of the outside directors and a sniveling little weasel of a man, chimed in next. “Of course we do, and we all believe you’d be instrumental as CEO. As it is, you’ve done this company a great service by uncovering this before it got out to the public.”
My palms came down on the table top with a resounding crack before I barked, “Then what the hell’s the problem?”
“We need to think about the big picture,” Gordon continued. “If word of your father’s actions gets out, the clients and shareholders alike would be looking at you, his son, as the apple that didn’t fall too far from the tree. It’s just the way of the world. They need assurances that you aren’t him. And as you know, in the past, the media hasn’t exactly painted you in the most favorable light. To put you in place as CEO, we’d need to make sure they had faith in you.”
I pressed my hands harder against the table until my knuckles turned white while speaking through clenched teeth. “So what is it you’re suggesting?”
Several pairs of eyes flitted around the room. No one spoke for a full minute as they communicated silently with one another before the room at large finally turned their attention to me, and Henry spoke up once more.
“We think it would benefit all parties if you were to . . . marry.”
A laugh burst past my lips. I waited for them to join in or for someone to tell me it was all a joke, but as the seconds ticked by and they remained stoic and stone-faced, my humor died and my stomach soured. “You can’t be serious. You expect me to get married? Of course! Because that worked out so goddamn we
ll for the last guy.”
“If you want the position, as well as that satellite office in Nashville you’ve been so gung-ho about, this is the only way,” Gordon said.
Honestly, it wasn’t being CEO I cared about so much as the new offices in Nashville. Since witnessing the changes in Farah since her move to the small mountain town, I’d grown to believe that place and the people in it could work miracles. Every time I set foot across the town limits, I felt that same sense of calm and peace my sister talked so much about, and I’d begun to crave it.
Nashville was only a forty-five-minute commute, the perfect place to set up, and I was more determined to make that move than I’d been to make my father pay. I needed that town and those people to help wash away the filth I’d been mired in my whole goddamn life.
“It’s either get married to prove to us, the clients, and shareholders that you’re serious about your new role and doing whatever it takes to protect Hyland Steel’s reputation, or we’ll have to move Titus into the position.”
Titus Hyland. My cousin and the very definition of a piece of shit. Titus’s father had been foaming at the mouth to wrestle control of Hyland Steel from my father for as long as I could remember. When my uncle died of a heart attack four years back, my cousin had stepped in and picked up that particular torch. Titus was a weasel, the scum of the earth, and under his control, the company would undoubtedly sink faster than the Titanic, costing everyone under our employ their jobs.
I couldn’t allow that.
Titus was not an option. He was barely a step up from my father. And these assholes knew it as well as I did.
But who the hell was I supposed to marry?
Tricia was out of the question, and there was no way in hell I could imagine tying myself down to any of the other women I’d been intimate with. The women I took to my bed were chosen for a very specific reason. That being, they were temporary. I wasn’t emotionally invested in any of them. I could walk away when it was over without any regrets or guilt. Well . . . most of the time, anyway. Trish had proven that didn’t always work out.
Despite what the media said about me, I was fully capable of monogamy. It was commitment I despised. I’d never once cheated on a woman. When I was sleeping with someone, that was it. There was no one else. However, my relationships never lasted longer than a couple months, I made damn sure of that.
There was no one I trusted enough to . . .
On that thought, a particular woman with hair the color of fire and eyes like the sea entered my mind.
I wasn’t sure if it was temporary insanity, or perhaps it was because the crazy beautiful redhead had been plaguing my thoughts for months, but with Poppy’s face fresh in my head, my mouth opened and the words came spilling out before I could stop them or give them a second’s thought.
“Fine. I’ll do it.”
* * *
The sky had already grown dark by the time I left the office and headed home. The moment I walked into the bleak, lifeless apartment, I moved straight to the kitchen and poured myself a glass of bourbon, not bothering to turn on a single light as I went. After all, the dreary darkness matched my mood perfectly.
It was only after downing half the glass that I felt like I was able to pull in a full breath.
With the tumbler still firmly clutched in my hand, I moved through the cold, barren living room to the balcony. I’d lived in this place for years now, yet it still didn’t feel like home. Truth be told, there wasn’t a place I’d lived in all my thirty-five years that ever had. Not even the house where I’d grown up.
On that abysmal thought, a flash of the past reared its ugly head.
It was an hour past curfew, not that my folks ever cared or even payed attention to when I came and went, but I was still careful not to make any noise as I slowly closed the front door and tiptoed through the entryway. I was almost to the stairs, almost home free, when the light in the family room suddenly flicked on and my father’s booming voice rang out. “Care to explain to me what the fuck this is?”
I froze in place, the air expelling from my lungs as I slowly turned to look in his direction. The moment I saw the paper clutched in his hand, with the familiar foil stamp in the top left corner, all the air expelled from my lungs. The acceptance letter to the University of California. My saving grace. The letter that would get me the fuck out of Connecticut and as far away from this god-forsaken family as possible.
“Where did you get that?” I’d made damn sure it was hidden in the bottom drawer of the desk in my bedroom, tucked beneath a whole bunch of other junk so it wouldn’t be found.
He rose to his feet and started in my direction, each step slow and measured in an attempt to intimidate and exude his authority. “Matilda found it when she was cleaning your room earlier.”
My fingers clenched into tight fists as anger made my blood fizz. “You mean you had her snoop through my shit.”
“Watch your tone, boy,” he snarled, coming to a stop directly in front of me, the letter now crumpled in his grip. “Don’t forget your goddamn place.”
My place.
My place, my place, my place.
God, I’d heard those words so many times I lost count. All my life, it had been drilled into me to remember my place. I wasn’t conceived because Mom and Dad wanted a child to shower with love and attention. Oh no, neither of them was capable of loving anyone but themselves. They didn’t even love each other.
No, my purpose . . . my place was to carry the Hyland name and be groomed to eventually take over the family company when my miserable, piece-of-shit father finally saw fit to step down.
I let out a humorless laugh. “Oh, believe me, I’m well aware of my place. You never let me forget it.”
The hit came faster than I’d expected and I stumbled to the side, fire bursting across my cheekbone as my mouth filled with blood. I’d been smacked around by the old bastard more times than I could count, but I was usually prepared for it.
He leaned in close and hissed, “Your attitude and this goddamn letter leads me to believe that maybe you need a little reminder.”
His breath reeked of gin, a smell I’d grown painfully accustomed to over the years, and with him now standing so close, it became obvious that he’d tied on three or four—possibly five—before this little showdown.
“Get any thoughts of California out of your mind. You’re a Hyland, that means you’ll attend Cornell just like all your family before you. There will be none of that hippy bullshit they’ll try and drill into you on the West Coast. Understand?”
I didn’t answer. All I could do was stand silently, my chest rising and falling maniacally, my nostrils flaring as rage coursed through me, burning through my veins like acid. Then he said the one thing he knew would keep me in line.
“You come to heel, boy, or it won’t be you who pays the price. It’ll be your precious little sister.”
God, I hated him. I fucking hated him.
He knew he’d won when I didn’t say a word, and a slimy, evil smile stretched across his face. “Glad we’re in agreement, son.” With that, he crumpled the letter into a tight ball and tossed it to the ground before walking away.
The sound of car horns honking below shot through me, ripping me from the past and bringing me back to the present. I’d gripped the tumbler in my hand so tight it was a wonder it hadn’t shattered.
“Jesus,” I grunted, rubbing at my forehead before slugging back more of the alcohol in the glass.
Reaching into the front pocket of my slacks, I pulled out my phone and scrolled through my contacts, looking for one name in particular.
I had her number thanks to my sister’s annoying habit of group texting wedding details to all of us involved in her big day—still months away. I detested group texts with a passion, but no matter how many times I begged and pleaded to be removed, the little dictator would respond with a bunch of cartoon smiley faces with devil horns.
It had gotten to the point that I hated those
incessant little chimes, however, I found myself checking constantly, just to see Poppy’s name show up on my screen.
It rang three times before her soft, melodious voice filled my ear, and just the sound of it was enough to push back the darkness from that earlier memory. The cold melted away, and it felt like the sun was beating down on me.
“Hello?”
“Hey, Flower.”
“Jase?” There was no missing the surprise in her voice. We might have been on the same text chains, but we’d never actually spoken on the phone before. “Oh, uh, wow. Hi. H-how are you?”
As shocking as it was, considering the day from hell I’d endured, those stuttered words were enough to make me smile. If I closed my eyes, I could picture the pale pink blush that bloomed across her peaches-and-cream cheeks.
“Good. I’m good,” I answered honestly because, all of a sudden, I was.
“Well, that’s, uh, good. So . . . what’s up?”
A chuckle worked its way up my throat. Sometimes she was just too adorable. “Well, I’m calling because I’ll be heading back down to Redemption in about two days, and I wanted to see about booking a room.”
My sister’s place was huge, and every time I came down for a visit, she’d tried to get me to stay with her, but after overhearing her and Cannon going at it the one and only time I’d crashed there during a visit, I’d sworn to myself, never again. I’d been so traumatized that I would have paid any amount for someone to jab an ice pick into my ears. I’d still had three more days on that particular trip, but after that, I’d packed my shit and headed for the inn, refusing to stay under their roof again—at least until they had their bedroom soundproofed.
“Oh. Farah didn’t tell me you were coming back.”
“She doesn’t know, actually,” I confessed. “And if it’s not a problem, would you mind not telling her just yet?”
Crazy Beautiful: a Redemption novel Page 3