Furrowing my brow, I pulled out a large stack of papers and placed the uneven pile on my lap. Picking the one on top, I pulled the paper from inside the envelope and slowly opened the folded page. My eyes took a second to adjust to the scrawling script. I hadn’t read cursive in a while. Not since my dad had written me notes when he was alive.
Trenton,
Why won’t you hear me out? I’ll consider rehabilitation, just take Jaxon back. Make sure he has the same rights Braddox has. It isn’t fair that he’s been cut out of the family. None of this is fair.
It isn’t his fault. Don’t blame him.
I feel like you won’t give me a chance. Just let me try. I can try.
Please.
Jennifer
I swallowed, moving to the next letter after retucking the note back into its envelope. A feeling of dread pooled in my chest.
Braddox,
How are you? Thank you for the new connection on the fixes. Norman hasn’t been able to find anyone with a reliable source. I really needed that pick me up after your father ignored my last five letters.
Can you talk to him? Let him know I want to come home? I’ll do rehab, but I don’t know how much longer I’ll be able to do this. It’s a lot more addicting than I thought it would be. I feel bad I argued with you on that point.
Your supplier has better quality stuff than I can get over here. I really don’t want Jaxon living in East Shores anymore. It isn’t safe for him.
Can you put in a good word with your father for me?
I miss you.
Mom
I shoved that letter back in, sensing a pattern as I hurriedly opened another envelope. I gritted my teeth as I recognized her handwriting again but this time her letters were slanted and sharp like she was angry as she wrote.
T.
I don’t care about the money. Stop sending it to me, if you think that’s why I’m reaching out. I don’t know what else I can do to get you to respond to my letters or my calls.
Please. Jaxon needs you. Can you please help him? He’s not going to make it on this side of Shores. He’s too gentle, too good. Please. Help your son.
I don’t know why you won’t reply. Please. Please, answer me. I’m begging you. I’m already a lost cause, but Jaxon isn’t. He’s here. He needs you.
I know I lost you and our family. Please, don’t lose Jaxon because of me.
J
I sat back, leaning my shoulders against the closet wall and staring at the letters in my lap.
Their mother had tried. I wasn’t sure how many Braddox had snagged, but judging by the tone of their mother’s letters, Trenton hadn’t answered any of them. Knowing him the way I did, which wasn’t much, but was enough, I would say he’d never received one letter. If he had, I could see him doing whatever it took to at least get his son back.
The letters amounted to what I wouldn’t doubt was Braddox’s attempts to keep his family divided. He’d been the one to supply his mother with drugs. Was he the one to actually get her started on drugs?
I couldn’t help hoping that wasn’t true. I didn’t want to believe that about Braddox. What if that was true? Then Jaxon was a victim of more than just neglect, abuse, or even addiction.
He was the victim of evil machinations. And his twin brother was the orchestrator of them all.
I had to get away from the reality of what my mother had married into, what I’d been hovering around all that time.
A knock at my door jolted me from my musings in the closet. I stared at the door with wide eyes. How in the world had Braddox gotten out of the hospital or urgent care that fast? I swallowed, pressing myself against the stability of the wall. He couldn’t get in. Not if he wanted to keep things discreet.
“Olivia? Honey, are you in there?” My mom’s voice cajoled me from the other side of my door.
I sighed in relief, moving to stand and then striding toward the door to unlock it. I pulled open the panel and stared at my mom. She had no idea just how welcome a sight she was.
“Hi, can I come in?” She waited for me to motion her inside, closing the door and locking it as she went to sit on the only chair the room.
I took a seat on the bed that I still hadn’t slept in and I studied her. “How did you know I was in this room?” No one else knew yet. I wasn’t ready for anyone else to know. That meant I’d lose the anonymity I craved where Braddox didn’t know where I was. Even if for only a day or two.
My mom shrugged, cocking her head to the side. She picked at the edge of her cuticle. “It’s the only room with lights on. I wasn’t even sure you’d still be awake, but figured I’d take a chance with the commotion outside Braddox’s room.”
“What happened?” I blinked at her, eschewing innocence. I couldn’t let on that I knew what had happened. She’d wonder why I had a knife in my room and what Braddox was doing in there with me. Naked.
Mom tapped the side of her cheek in confusion. “He said he was climbing out of the shower and slipped, hitting something on his leg. I don’t know. I wasn’t sure where he was hurt. He called 911 rather than call us for help. It must have been pretty serious.” She shook her head and folded her arms. “I’m sure he’ll be okay. Look, I wanted to talk to you about what’s going on with the… well, with the Stablers or I guess the Vigils? I guess it matters which way you look at them.” Her lips pinched as if she’d eaten something distasteful and was too polite to spit it out.
I wasn’t in the position to take on any more information, but I lifted my chin the slightest amount and nodded for her to go on. What was I going to do, if she found out Braddox’s wound was by my hand?
“Well, as you know Johnathan was married before coming here. Which means, our marriage wasn’t legal or binding. He sold the company without rights. We’re going to go after Elkin and get everything back, but that means I need to know exactly what happened and how you got the information about Staci.” She held up a hand and shook her head. “I don’t care what it was. You won’t get in trouble. I want the truth, Olivia Maria Ramirez.”
The full name. I swallowed. Shooting my gaze around the new room I hadn’t really had a chance to familiarize myself with, I finally answered her question in a monotone. “Stephanie and I went to Staci’s place late Friday night. We just wanted to see, if we could, you know? I don’t know why we did it. Then we went into the house. When we were in there, Staci and her mom went upstairs with some guys. As soon as I had a chance, I got out of there as fast as I could. I’m ashamed to admit I left Stephanie inside. She came out a little bit later and had a file folder with that birth certificate in it. She gave it to me.” I fell silent. There was no way I could answer any questions on Stephanie’s behalf or even ask her to double check.
Stephanie was dead and it had everything to do with the Stablers – my father’s original family.
Mom’s eyes softened as she considered what I’d said. “I’m so sorry you lost Stephanie. I know she was a good friend. They called me about the car and I said it had been stolen last week after what you told me about the people chasing you guys. If they tie it to us, Trenton has people watching us just in case, but I want you to be prepared and be careful. Those women are messed up in some very dangerous activities.”
“What do you mean? Are they still alive? Maybe those men killed them.” I gripped the comforter on the bed, staring at my mom and wishing I was anywhere but there in Shores. How was I stuck in that mess? How had my dad done that to me and my mom?
Mom shook her head. “It sounds like that woman is mixed up in a lot of the illegal activity happening here in Shores and the surrounding area.” She pressed her lips together as if to keep her secrets.
I shook my head and sliced my hand through the air. “No. You want me to be honest, but then you’re going to hold things back from me? That’s not fair. I’m old enough to understand. Just tell me.” If she only knew the things I’d dealt with on my own, she wouldn’t be so reticent with her information. Or maybe she would. Maybe she
would lock me away to keep me safe. It wouldn’t work, but I’d like to see her try. Especially on days like that.
Pain slashed across her features followed closely by acceptance. Her shoulders lifted and pushed back and she folded her hands in her lap. “Well, it sounds like she was into loans, gambling, human trafficking, drugs, small arms, money laundering, and even hired retribution.” She must have seen the question in my eyes because she clarified. “The retribution is usually revenge or something. Usually associated with hiring someone to kill a target. I’m not sure of the details, but it sounds like she gets whatever she wants. From the things I’ve heard, I wouldn’t doubt that she involves her daughter, but I hope that isn’t the case.”
I glanced down and then back up at Mom. “You have no idea what they’re doing and trust me, you want to keep it that way.” I would never be able to get the things out of my head that I’d seen.
She studied my face and nodded shortly, as if she didn’t want to think about what she didn’t know. Even more that she didn’t want to know what I knew.
“Will we get the Ramirez company back?” I couldn’t help wondering about a lot of things, but that one seemed the one that Mom and I had in common. If nothing else, we at least had a shared interest in the state of the family company.
She nodded, but sorrow shadowed her eyes. “Yeah, I think so. But I’m worried about the state it’s in. Your fath-. I mean, Jonathan essentially destroyed much of the brand by lowering the quality of the products. We would have to work hard to return it to what it was. I’m not sure I’m up for it, to be honest.” She glanced down at her hands and then back at me with a tight reassuring smile. Was the smile for me or was it for her?
I suddenly couldn’t help accepting the fact that I didn’t want to be a doctor. I really wanted to work on the legacy of my family that I’d thought had been taken from me. I nodded. “I think we can do what we need to.”
“Wait. We?” My mom’s smile spread slowly across her worried face. “Really? You want to have a part in the Ramirez business?” Hope glowed brightly from her dark eyes that closely resembled mine.
I shrugged, letting my grin show I was teasing as I answered. “There’s nothing else to do. Might as well make something of the family name.” I couldn’t own how I felt too blatantly. I didn’t want to make a big deal about it, but at the same time I couldn’t hold back my own excitement.
Mom stood and came toward me, crushing me in her arms and swaying side to side. “Well, I’m glad to have you on the team. I can’t lose now.” She patted my back and pulled away, just enough to see my face. “If you need to talk – about Stephanie or anything else, I’m not hip to the current trends, but I’m a good ear. You can tell me anything.”
I nodded and for the first time that night, I lied to her. “Yeah, I know. Thanks, Mom.”
After she left, I turned back to the closet. Someone had to be held accountable for Jaxon’s mother’s death. Someone had to take on the accountability for the actions of my father.
The only person I could focus my anger on with a certainty was Braddox. I wasn’t sure what I needed to do just yet, but I had no doubt vengeance would be mine.
And for the first time, I had the conviction that I would die to find it.
Chapter 8
Jaxon
I’d stayed away from everyone all week to the extent that I took my meals in my room. Dad had given me an expense account and I had no problem using it. I ordered noise canceling headphones. When they got there the next day, I stayed in my bed and stared at the ceiling, listening to whatever came on the radio. I didn’t want to lift my phone and change the song. I just wanted to stare and not be aware of anyone at my door or anything outside the confines of my room.
At one point, I asked the housekeeper to make sure my meals were delivered to the door and left on the floor during times when I knew no one else would see them. I would open the door three minutes after the arranged time and pulled the trays in to me.
Staying away from everyone became paramount to my sanity.
But Saturday came. There was no getting around the fact that I had to go to the funeral. I didn’t want Mom to have no one from her family representing amongst all the other people who would be there.
I forced myself to shower and dress in appropriate clothing for a funeral. The black overcoat finished off the black pants and white button-up shirt I had in my closet. I didn’t remember owning the ensemble, but I wouldn’t balk at having access to it. Most likely, my father had seen the future need for the outfit and he’d provided it for me based on Braddox’s sizing.
There were some benefits to having a twin. But the list was extremely limited. I couldn’t come up with more than one or two and both directly benefited me in some manner that wasn’t that important.
Standing at the gravesite Dad had secured for Mom, I tucked my hands into the deep pockets of the overcoat and looked around. A simple awning-style covering had been erected beside the freshly dug hole and I stood beneath it, listening to the pattering of rain as it hit the nylon material overhead.
A man in overalls stood to the side, leaning on the handle of a shovel as he waited for something. And the pastor who looked like a pastor-for-hire wiped his nose and blinked his eyes rapidly as he looked at a folded piece of paper he’d pulled from the pages of a plastic prop-looking bible. He glanced at me and then around the gravesite. “Is this everyone? Are we expecting more?”
I looked as well. No one else had shown up. Norman hadn’t bothered being there for his longtime girlfriend’s funeral. My dad wasn’t there. He’d said it was a conflict of interests, whatever that meant.
Braddox hadn’t even shown up. Since Olivia wasn’t there either, it was easy to picture them wrapped in each other’s arms, naked.
I blinked back my frustration and stared down at the plastic outdoor green rug I stood on. “No, I don’t think so.”
“I’m here.” Olivia’s soft voice jerked my gaze her way. She’d come. Dressed in a soft black dress that fell below her knees and a black sweater, she’d left her hair partially down and worn simple makeup. Even her shoes were understated but classy with a one-inch heel, simple straps, and a rounded toe.
She smiled softly at me, her eyes full of questions, but she didn’t ask. She didn’t push. She moved to stand beside me, keeping her mouth shut as the pastor-for-hire started in on some generic eulogy where he got Mom’s name wrong. Then he called me James instead of Jaxon when he spoke about her surviving sons. He got Braddox right, which I closed my eyes at.
My own brother hadn’t been able to show up for Mom’s funeral. What had he been thinking? Of course, he wasn’t thinking about anything but himself. Going to a funeral didn’t help him in any way – didn’t get him ass, didn’t get him more power, didn’t do anything but show him as weak. I had no doubt that’s what he was thinking.
The rain continued to drizzle around us. Thankfully, the wind wasn’t as active as normal. I ignored the bleakness of the clouds hanging low in the sky and just stared at the hole in front of me.
Mom’s casket was cheap, nothing fancy. At least it had chrome hinges and handles. At least Dad had sprung for that much. I didn’t blame him for keeping it simple. Mom had torn our family apart with her dependence on drugs and alcohol. I wished I could get my hands on the bastard who had introduced her to the drugs. They wouldn’t be standing anymore.
A machine lowered the casket into the hole in the ground. The whirring of the hydraulics overtaking the words of the wanna-be-pastor.
In less than a minute, the casket had been settled into the ground and the machine moved back and on its way. My breath came in small pants as I stared at the dark rectangle Mom’s body had disappeared into.
The man with the shovel stepped forward as the guy delivering a horrible eulogy finished with a hiccupped-amen. The worker bent over, shovel in hand as he stooped to scoop dirt from the pile under the green tarp.
Before I could stop myself, I stepped forward
, grabbing the handle with one hand and holding out the other as if to say wait.
The man jerked away from me, letting go of the shovel since I had a solid grip on the wood. He whirled to face me, questions and confrontation strong in his features. Something in my expression must have told him all he needed to know because his anger smoothed out and he stepped back. Nodding, his lips pressed into a tight but kind smile, the man motioned toward the hole.
I think the pastor ambled away. I don’t know anything beyond the fact that I was holding a flat-nosed shovel, the wood real and solid in my hands. I turned to face the dirt they’d kept covered so it wouldn’t turn to mud or be too heavy to return on top of the casket.
Out from under the protection of the half-tent, I blinked at the water drizzling in my eyes and down my cheeks. Reaching up, I brushed my hair back from my face and then gripped the handle with both hands.
And dug deep into the pile.
The dirt was loose, begging to be scooped. I held the shovelful aloft for a brief moment as I stared down into the hole that held my mom. She was gone. There were no more chances to fix how she felt about me. No other shot at maybe ending our time together with something other than how much she hated me.
Instead of feeling bitter toward her like I probably should have, I felt a tremendous sense of loss. Not just because she’d died. But because of everything our family had lost.
I slowly pivoted until the shovel was suspended over the hole. As if hypnotized, I watched as the shovel turned in my hands and dumped the dirt slowly on top of the casket beneath.
Through the muffled restraint of the rain, the dirt hit the top with a solid plop that echoed up the sides of the walls only to be absorbed by the rain. I closed my eyes and sank the shovel into the mound of dirt again. But I stopped and hung my head. My mom was gone and I was to blame.
I stood there frozen for a moment before hands claimed mine and moved me away from the shovel and the hole. Olivia gently guided me to the two chairs set up under an oak tree which partially protected us from the weather in a position we could watch as they filled in the rest of the hole.
Forgiven: a bully romance (An Academy Twin Rivalry Series Book 3) Page 6