“You’ve no idea how much it hurts me to hear you speak in such a way about your father.” I feel like slamming my head repeatedly against the table. She reaches across the table for my hand, and I meet her halfway. “You are correct when you say he didn’t make the right call when this first blew up. He should’ve stayed here and faced the music, but he’s changed. You haven’t seen him in a long time. He’s not the same man. He’s truly sorry for what he did, but turning himself in isn’t going to get those people their money back.”
“No, but it will give them some closure. Us, too.”
I get up and walk around the table, kneeling down in front of her. “If Dad is at large, this will hang over all of us our entire lives. We’ll never be able to move on from it. And what kind of life will he have? Always on the run. Constantly looking over his shoulder.” I shake my head. “If he’s changed, why didn’t he return with you?”
“Because he’s scared, sweetheart.”
“Sorry, Mom, but that’s just not good enough. He’s a grown man with responsibilities and he left you and the girls alone to deal with the aftermath of his poor choices. You don’t owe him anything. You owe it yourself and your daughters to do the right thing. I think you should tell the police what they want to know and do the press conference.”
“I want to do the right thing, I do but …” Her voice wobbles and tears pool in her eyes.
“But what, Mom?”
“I’m scared, Bradley. Your father has kept me safe since I was nineteen. I don’t know how to be without him.”
I sigh, distraught at how the once-strong woman I used to know appears to have left the building. Mom is a shell of her former self.
Hell, we all are.
I wish I could find some sympathy in my heart for my dad, the man I used to admire so much, but it’s damn hard when we’re all messed up because of him. I stand up straight, putting my hand on her shoulder. “Don’t be scared. I’m here, and I’ll look after you and the girls. I promise. You are not doing this alone.”
Tears spill down her cheeks. “I love you, honey.”
I kiss the top of her head with fierce determination. “I love you too, Mom. And it’s time to let him go. Time to do the right thing.”
I sweep the moisture on her cheeks away with a brush of my thumb. Mom tucks her hair behind her ears and levels a firm look at Dan. “You heard my son. Set it up. I’m ready to talk.”
Chapter Twenty-Two
Rachel
I’m quiet in the car the following morning as we drive to Wellesley for Brad’s mom’s press conference. When the call came in last night, and Ky explained, it took little persuasion to convince me to go with him and Faye, to provide moral support to Brad. I need to get out of the city and away from the constant threat of him turning up on my door. I didn’t sleep a wink last night. After the text arrived, I made my excuses to rush Lauren out of the apartment, and then I locked myself in the bathroom and called Keven. It took him almost an hour to talk me down from the ledge.
I don’t know how much longer I can keep the truth from him. If I don’t give him something, I’m afraid he’s going to go to Ky or Faye and force things out into the open. With my current fragile state of mind, that is the last thing I can face. The urge to flee is riding me hard again.
Keven broached the subject of a bodyguard again. When he first mentioned it a few weeks ago, I immediately dismissed it. The thought of someone following me everywhere, even if it’s for my protection, creeps me out. Plus, I was afraid my friends would notice and start asking questions. But now I’m definitely considering it. If he’s in the States, it’s only a matter of time before he finds me. And I don’t know how he’s going to react. He made it clear I’m his. That I’ll always be his. He won’t be pleased that I’ve tried to cut all ties. That I’ve tried to outsmart him.
He’s psychotic. I’m convinced of it despite my lack of qualification. And that terrifies me. Because he’s unpredictable, and out of control, and I’m scared he might hurt me way worse than he already has.
I chew on the corner of a nail as I contemplate hiring a bodyguard.
“Shit.” Ky cusses, scowling as we draw close to the hotel where the press conference is taking place. Swarms of people crowd the front of the hotel, blocking the entrance to the underground car park. Ky beeps the horn repeatedly, and it takes at least ten minutes before he can safely maneuver the car into the car park. Hands slam on the car as we pass, and protestors wave banners and shout at the top of their voices. Thank God for the dark windows, but it’s still a flipping scary experience.
The hotel lobby is thronged with men and women and TV crews, but I keep my head down, letting my hair fall around my face. We join James and Brad in a private room off the lobby. A bunch of people in business suits converge in the corner, talking in low voices. “Where’s Mom?” Ky asks.
“Alex stayed behind to mind the girls,” James confirms, “and she thought it best she wasn’t here in case her presence drew any more unwanted attention.”
“Where’s your Mom?” Faye asks Brad, looking all around the room.
Brad is smartly dressed in a white dress shirt with black trousers and a blue tie that brings out the vibrancy in his eyes. He looks like the quintessential all-American boy. Except for the multi-colored bruise on his cheek, which hints at a darker side. “She’s being briefed by the police. Dan’s with her.” His eyes catch mine. “I appreciate you all coming. Thanks.”
“No problem, man.” Ky clamps a hand down on his shoulder. He’s also similarly attired to Brad, while Faye and myself are both wearing appropriate knee-length dresses.
Ky’s father leans in to me. “I think your boyfriend could use some TLC. The last twenty-four hours have been stressful.”
Join the club.
I move to Brad’s side, lacing my hand in his as I lean up on my tiptoes and kiss his cheek. His hand wraps firmly in mine, and he presses his mouth to my ear. “You don’t have to keep up the charade. There are cameras and tons of press milling about the place. I’ll tell Mom the truth.”
I shake my head. “Not yet. She’s got too much on her mind. Let things settle and then you can tell her. I don’t mind keeping this going for a while longer.” Truth is, I’m clinging to his hand and his side because he’s my lifeline at the moment as much as I wish I was his. But I’m under no illusion in that regard. This serves a purpose for him, nothing more. “We should hide that bruise on your face,” I whisper, tugging on his hand. “Come with me.”
Carefully, we sneak out of the room, walking briskly to the bathroom. I pull him into a wheelchair accessible toilet and lock the door. I push the toilet seat down. “Sit there,” I instruct, turning to wash my hands in the sink. I remove a makeup palette from my bag and face him. Tilting his chin up, I angle his head to the side.
“I’m glad you’re here,” he admits, surprising me.
“I was glad to get out of the city.” I dab my brush in some concealer and press it against his cheek, expecting him to probe further, but he says nothing. “What’s going to happen to your mom?”
“They’ve agreed to release her without charge after the press conference. The official line is that she was helping with their inquiries.”
I blend the concealer with my fingers, and he flinches under my touch. “At least that’s good.” I step back, surveying his cheek from both sides. It’s not perfect, but it’s the best I can do. If I layer any more concealer on, it will look too noticeable. At least it isn’t so blatantly obvious now.
“It is. Without the threat of arrest, she can move on with her life. Find someplace to live and decide what she wants to do.”
“You’re done,” I confirm, moving back to the sink to wash the makeup from my hands.
He stands up, inspecting his face in the mirror behind me. Heat wafts from his body, stirring unwelcome sensations in me. “Nice job. Thanks
.”
I twist around to face him and suck in a shocked gasp. He’s pressed right up against me at this angle, and his potent scent swirls around me, dazzling me in a nanosecond.
“Sorry.” He steps back, creating some space between us.
I try to steady my beating heart. “I heard what you did to that asshole, and I wanted to thank you. You didn’t need to do that for me, but I’m grateful.”
He examines my face, his eyes intensely probing mine, and the air turns thick with electricity. “I never know what to expect with you. Most girls abhor violence and wouldn’t approve.”
“Well,” I say, pushing off the sink. “I’m not like most girls, and my personal view is that violence against monsters doesn’t count. What you did to him pales in comparison to what he would’ve done to me if the others hadn’t bust into the room, so you’ll never hear me criticizing you for that. I owe you.”
He shakes his head. “Nah, I think that makes us even.” His lips curve into a smile. “Although, I haven’t forgotten I still owe you three orgasms.”
“That was only a piss take, remember?”
He chuckles. “I can guess what that means, and you’re not letting me off the hook that easily.”
“Bradley.” I plant my hands on my hips. “Are you flirting with me? Minutes before your mom addresses the entire nation? The entire planet?”
He takes my hand in his. “Fair point. It’s not the time or place.” He opens the door and peeks out. Pulling me out, he grips my hand firmly as we scurry along the now empty hallway. “But we’re not done with this conversation.”
The hell we aren’t.
They are just about to start proceedings as we make our way to the front row. Faye and Ky have kept us seats, and I drop down alongside my friend while Brad runs up to the podium to wish his mom a last-minute good luck.
The press conference goes off without a hitch. Brad keeps a firm hold of my hand the entire time, but I don’t mind. His touch is helping to flay the edge off my anxiety. When his mom wells up as she’s imploring her husband to hand himself in, I watch Brad’s jaw clench and his eyes turn glassy. I squeeze his hand and he turns to me, pressing a tender kiss to my forehead. The gesture tugs at my heartstrings, but I try not to read too much into it. This is an emotional time for him, that’s all.
As the thought wafts through my mind, it registers that being with him like this doesn’t frighten me in the way it usually does. Being with him, as his significant other, even if it’s fake, feels natural.
Faye subtly nudges me in the ribs, and I look into her expectant face. She smiles at me, motioning in Brad’s direction, and it isn’t difficult to get her meaning. She’s reading too much into this, same as me. Either she’s forgotten that he’s infatuated with her, or she’s happily in denial. Not that I can blame her for that. If Brad moved on, it would alleviate the awkward tension and allow her and Ky to properly move forward. I know they’re stuck in limbo while the situation remains unresolved.
But I can’t ignore facts.
Brad has a thing for my best friend, and I don’t want to be the backup plan or second-best. I’ve never properly entertained the notion of a boyfriend before, and I don’t want to do that with a guy who doesn’t see me as his everything.
The conference ends a few minutes later, and I hang back with Ky, Faye, and James Kennedy while Brad goes with his mom and Dan.
“He’s into you,” Faye whispers when Ky is busy chatting with his dad. I shrug. “I thought you liked him?”
“Don’t do this. Don’t try and force us together. He doesn’t know what he wants, and this is all for show, remember?” Her face drops, and she bites her lower lip. She’s keeping something from me. “What don’t I know?”
She looks over her shoulder at her boyfriend. He’s still deep in conversation with his dad. “Not here.” She takes my hand in hers. “Bathroom break,” she mouths to Ky over her shoulder as she drags me to the toilets.
She locks us into the wheelchair accessible toilet, sitting down on the toilet seat and resting her head in her hands.
“What happened?” I ask, because I know something has.
“I swore I wouldn’t tell anyone this, but I’m freaking out.” She gulps. “I genuinely don’t think he meant it, but Brad tried to kiss me yesterday.”
My heart deflates, like a balloon that’s been pricked with a sharp instrument. A piercing ache splinters my chest cavity, and my mouth is dry. “Oh.” I drop my head.
“Ah, crap.” She stands up, walking to my side. “You like him a lot more than you’ve admitted. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have told you that.”
I lift my chin. “Of course, you should have. We’re best friends. You shouldn’t be afraid to tell me anything.”
Hypocrite.
“Look, I am freaking out over it, but not for the reasons you’re thinking. I’m terrified Ky is going to find out and read more into it. Because the truth is, I still don’t believe Brad loves me. I believe he thinks he does, but it’s the idea of what I represent more than anything. And we get on so well, and given everything he’s been going through, it was only natural he’d kinda latch onto me. But that’s all it is. I see the way he’s been looking at you recently. He likes you a lot, but I think he’s scared to face reality.”
“No offense, Faye, but I think you’re reading far too much into it because you want him to get over his infatuation with you, and I can understand why, but I don’t think he cares about me that way. He likes fucking me, but that’s all. And despite what happened this weekend, that’s not me anymore. I want someone to love me for me. Not just for my body. And I want to be the center of someone’s universe, like you are to Ky.”
A tear rolls down my face. This is the most honest I’ve been with myself in a long time.
I do want that.
I see what my best friend has with her boyfriend, how much they love and support each other, and I want that for myself. I want my face to light up when my guy steps into the room. I want the feeling of safety and warmth when I’m enveloped in his arms. The contentment and happiness that comes from willingly sharing my bed with a guy who can be sweet and sexy, who knows when I need a hug, and when I need him to fill me up.
The admission almost knocks me over.
I wonder if deep down I’ve always felt like this but I was too afraid to want that for myself. Too afraid I wouldn’t know how to be that for someone. Too afraid I’m damaged and incapable of offering all of myself to another person. Too afraid of relying on someone and being let down, because those closest to me have a habit of doing that.
But I want that with a guy. I want that for myself. I do.
Perhaps, in different circumstances, Brad could be that guy for me, because he has contributed to this realization, but he’s too fixated on Faye to offer me what I need.
“And you will be.” She pulls me into a mammoth hug. “You’re one of the sweetest, kindest, most thoughtful people I know, and you deserve to be loved. And I want that for you, and it’s wonderful to finally hear you acknowledging you want it too. I’m proud of you, Rachel.”
When we rejoin the others in the lobby, Brad is back. “Everything okay?” he asks, his gaze flitting between me and Faye.
“Of course. Why wouldn’t it be?” My tone is clipped, and the look I give him is harder than I intended.
He scratches the back of his head. “I’m going to return to the house with Mom, but I’ll be heading back to Harvard later. I was hoping you might come with me? I know Emma would love to see you.”
My instinct is to tell him to get stuffed, but I guess I love torturing myself because I find myself nodding. Ky and Faye bade us farewell. She has an assignment that’s due in tomorrow, and she needs to complete it. So, I find myself traveling back to the Kennedy house with the others.
Brad’s mom is quiet the entire journey, and I understand
why. She’s had to throw her husband under the bus to protect the rest of her family. The warring emotions are written all over her face. “I know that was hard, Mom, but you did the right thing,” Brad quietly reassures her. “I’m proud of you.”
She pats his hand but doesn’t reply.
When we get back to the basement annex they are staying in, she hugs her daughters before retreating to her room for a nap. Brad goes to make coffee, leaving me with his sisters in the living room. Kaitlyn grabs me into a quick hug, startling me. “I know my brother thinks I’m a jerk, but I want to say thank you so much for the clothes and the stuff. I really appreciate it.”
“You’re welcome. I love shopping so it’s not as if it was a big burden.”
“I used to love shopping too.”
“We should go shopping together,” I blurt, before I have a chance to stop myself. Sometimes, it’s easy to forget I’m only playing a role.
“I’d like that.”
“Can I come too?” Emma asks, running over to hug me.
“Of course.” I kiss her cheek. “Maybe we can grab a movie and some dinner too.”
“That would be awesome,” Kaitlyn says, and I spy Brad watching and listening from the corner of the room. “Can we go to the same store where you bought that blue dress? I totally adore it.”
My cheeks flush with pride. “Actually, I made that one, and I figured you might like it. I knew it would suit your coloring and your height.”
Her mouth drops open. “Get. Out! You did not.”
“Rachel’s studying fashion design, and she’s incredibly talented,” Brad says, handing me a coffee.
“How would you know?” I quirk a brow.
“You made that red dress you wore to the twenty-first, right?”
“Yeah, but how did you know that?”
“I have my sources. And you looked sensational in it.”
My cheeks darken, and a smile graces my lips. I’d almost believe he meant that, except Faye’s words from earlier still linger in my mind. He’s been sleeping with me, yet he tried to kiss my best friend yesterday. I can’t ever forget that. My smile fades, and he frowns when he notices.
Saving Brad (The Kennedy Boys Book 5) Page 18