Breathing heavily, Mackenzie rested her head on my shoulder and lifted her hands to slowly hug me back. Then as if snapping back to reality, she quickly shoved me off of her. Knocked off balance, I staggered backwards, slipping off the top step.
I reached for Mackenzie, my fingers barely grazing hers as she stretched her hand out to catch me. When I landed at the bottom of the steps, my head hit the concrete with a resounding thud. I cried out as sharp pain shot through my body. Mackenzie’s panic-filled voice echoed in my throbbing head seconds before I blacked out.
“I’m sorry,” she cried. “I’m sorry.”
Chapter Twenty-One
My eyes fluttered awake. Aunt Bev’s worried face peered down at me. I eased up a bit and she gently laid me back down on the bed.
“Julian, are you all right, dear?” her voice sounded like it was underwater.
“What happened?” I asked, rubbing my temple.
She gave me something to drink. “Your sister pushed you down the side steps, remember. You hit your head so hard you were knocked out.” She helped me sip some water through a straw. “Marlene was worried about how it might look to the police so she called her doctor to the house, instead of taking you to the hospital. That bitch. Luckily, it wasn’t too serious.”
I pushed up and sat against the headboard. “It was an accident. Don’t be too mad at Mackenzie—”
“I’m angry at them both,” Aunt Bev grunted. “I was in Providence this morning and heard about what happened when I got back to the office. That was just awful. How humiliated Seven must have been.”
She sat at the edge of the bed, lost in thought. Then she reached over and patted my shoulder. “Everyone likes what you’ve done for the magazine, Julian. I can’t wait for the dinner to show off all your hard work.”
I placed my hand on top of hers. “You did most of the work. I only added a few things.”
Aunt Bev smiled at me. “Don’t be so modest.”
She stood again and picked up an ice pack out of a basin, handing it to me. “The doctor says to keep this at the back of your head.”
Taking the ice pack from her, I pressed it behind my head and considered the contents of both wills, and what Ms. Vaughn said about my father wanting Aunt Bev out of it. I concluded it must have been a mistake. Maybe brother and sister had an argument. Whatever the case, I should tell Aunt Bev everything.
Just as she turned to leave, I called out to her, “Aunt Bev, wait.”
She twirled and walked back over to my side. “What is it, Julian?”
Her hazel eyes were so kind, full of love. There was no way she could’ve planned to take away my father’s company and wealth, much less have him killed.
“Um,” I began.
“Yes?” she tipped her head to the side and narrowed her eyes.
“Did you and my father fight before he died?”
Aunt Bev straightened. “Why?”
“Because, I need to know why he wanted you out of his will and why he insisted on making another one.”
If what Mr. Cornwell said was true, that my father was misled into thinking his own sister couldn’t be trusted, then she would have nothing to worry about.
Aunt Bev stared absently at me, engrossed in a private memory. She drew her brows together and a lonely tear fell down her cheek.
“We did. It was horrible, Julian.” She shook her head in distress. “He rushed into the guesthouse, accusing me of trying to steal from him. He said terrible things about David. I had no idea who had influenced him.”
She walked over to the sliding glass door and peeked through the curtains, the memory of that day consuming her mind. “My brother and I were very close, best friends. Then he started to get sick and he saw me as his enemy. When he got worse, I had to do a lot more work in the office for him and myself both. Instead of being grateful, he was upset with me.”
I moved the ice pack from my head and set it on the table next to the bed. “What do you think caused his anger towards you?”
Slanting, she looked at me sideways then wrapped one arm around her waist and wiped her cheek with the other. “I’m not sure, Julian. And after hearing what happened today I got my friend at the station to give me Ms. Vaughn’s phone number. She was so rude to me.”
“Really?”
“Yes. She called me a murderer and said if I ever tried to talk to her again she’d report to the police that I was harassing her.”
“Wow,” I blew out a breath.
Aunt Bev came back to the bed and sat down. “Wow indeed.”
“About Claire,” I switched the subject to a more pressing issue. “Are you going to keep her here?”
“No. I let her go. There’s no way I could keep her after hearing about her relationship with Anthony,” she answered, keeping a watchful eye on me.
“Still, did she have access to the main house?” I continued.
Massaging her temple, Aunt Bev released a sound of annoyance. “Please don’t tell me you think Claire had something to do with my brother’s death.”
“It’s just that—”
“Stop it, Julian.” She cut me off then hopped off the bed. “First it’s me, then Anthony, and now you’re going to suspect Claire. She might have gotten swayed by that prick, but she’s no killer.”
I didn’t understand this burst of hostility. “I’m not accusing anyone,” my pitch heightened a tad.
“It’s in your eyes, Julian. I saw that look you gave me the first time I brought you to the office, and the way you looked at me yesterday when I came home. You never told me a thing because you don’t trust me.”
My eyes dropped onto my lap. “Sorry,” I whispered. This family didn’t make trusting them easy—too many secrets.
She softened her tone as she continued, “The fact that you were sneaking around to get yourself out of the will and not trusting me enough to come to me with what Robert or his secretary told you says a lot.”
Aunt Bev shook her head. “I was the one who helped your mother, made phone calls on behalf of your father when he was too afraid to do so. It hurts, that even for a second you thought I was capable of hurting him.”
My lips trembled as I spoke. “Sorry. I just…it’s hard to trust the family who didn’t want me—”
“I want you, Julian.” She eased down on the bed. “You’ve always been a Vanderson to me.”
Finally, the tears burst through the dam I’d built years ago. I let them flow freely. I was tired of fighting, with myself, my mother, and with them.
Aunt Bev embraced me as I sobbed on her shoulder. “It’s okay, dear,” she hushed me. “You don’t have to be afraid. You can trust me.”
*
Later that evening, I didn’t feel like eating dinner so I stayed in the room, staring up at the ceiling. My head still hurt a bit and I’d been asleep for most of the day.
Getting tired of just lying down, I slipped out of bed and walked over to the sliding doors. The second I opened them, the cool ocean breeze whooshed past me and entered the room.
I hugged myself and eased over to the loveseat, glancing at my father’s oil painting. I’d removed the cloth so I could stare at it at nights before going to sleep.
Running my fingers along the side, I admired his efforts once more. Seven was right. My father’s paintings did mean something to me, because I used to paint as well.
A light chortle escaped my lips as I considered the similarities between me and my father, and the secrets I was keeping from everyone. How strange it was, that even though I grew up without him, I felt like I knew him just from being at the estate.
A light rap sounded outside my door and brought me out of my thoughts.
Thinking it was Aunt Bev, I called out, “I’m not hungry. I’ll eat later.”
“It’s Seven.”
Hearing his deep voice, my heart started to race. I got up from the loveseat and walked over to the door, opening it halfway.
“Hey,” he said lowly.
&nb
sp; “Hey,” I replied.
“How are you feeling?”
I shrugged. “Like I’ve been hit by a truck.”
“Yeah, that was pretty extreme of Kenzie.” His eyes flared, infuriated by her.
“It was an accident,” I defended her once again. “We were both upset.”
For a moment, he stared at me, his body language conveying his hope for something. I stepped aside and motioned for him to come in.
Seven entered and walked over to the sliding doors. “I was mad at you for not trusting me. I guess I took it too personal…” he turned and faced me. “I mean, when your dad asked me to watch out for you, I just wanted to do my best, for his sake, you know?”
There it was again, his obligation to my father. “You don’t have to do that. I can take care of myself.”
“Yeah,” he nodded. “Is there anything else you’re keeping secret though? I’d like to know before the cops come after me again.”
I dropped my eyes to the carpet, thinking I should at least come clean about seeing his father with Claire. Even if Mr. Monroe had confessed, I still considered it important to be honest with Seven.
Meeting his gaze, I said, “I saw them…” my words were like whispers.
Seven leaned his head to the side and creased his forehead. “Who?”
“I saw your father and Claire, on the beach. It was on that day I came to your room and you were…” I hesitated.
Unsure as to whether or not I should apologize and try to explain my reason for keeping that from him, I stayed quiet and waited for his reaction.
Seven moved closer to me. “You knew? You saw them together and you didn’t say anything?” he folded his arms. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It wasn’t my place, and I didn’t want to be the one to…” I trailed off.
“To what?” he prompted.
“…To hurt you with news like that.”
He appeared exasperated, drawing in a long breath. “Wow, you are a very secretive person. Just be careful though, you might trust the wrong people with your secrets.”
Seven turned and walked out of the room. I stood in place, tears welling up my eyes as I deliberated his last words. He was right.
Chapter Twenty-Two
Detective Walters stopped by the day after. He questioned everyone again. Though they had alibies for Mr. Cornwell’s murder, the fact remained that Seven and his father were mentioned in his final words, having something to do with my father’s death. So, with the insistence of Aunt Bev and Detective Walters, Marlene finally went ahead and requested an autopsy, to prove once and for all what really caused my father’s death.
It would be another day or two before they received the results. And after carefully thinking it over, I decided not to sell the estate as originally intended and just give it to Mackenzie. Her hysteria pulled me out of my anger.
She was sitting on the beach when I walked out to the balcony in my room. I was curious what had her in such deep contemplation, because I’d never seen her on the beach before. She was mostly in her room or at the animal shelter—never at the house she wanted so badly to get from me.
Walking out to the beach, I sat down next to her. Mackenzie winced, seeing me. She seemed apologetic and embarrassed all at once.
“Um…are you all right after—”
“I’m fine,” I answered before she finished. “I’m a tough girl.”
Mackenzie swallowed then looked down at the sand. She cupped some into her hand and let it seep through her fingers. “Look, it was an accident. I was really upset…I guess what I’m trying to say is…” she stammered, having a hard time saying the word. “I’m…”
I choked back a laugh. “Don’t force yourself if you don’t mean it.”
Her eyes widened in anger. “I am sorry.” Her words were sharp. “I might not like you, but I have no intention of physically hurting you.”
Staring out at the ocean and away from her gaze, I asked, “Why can’t you like me then?” I surprised even myself.
There was a long pause before she answered, “Because, Julian…” she hesitated. Maybe she was unsure about her own feelings.
I turned to meet her eyes, peering into the same shade of blue like my own. “Because?” I pressed her.
Her lips parted, a tiny breath escaped, only no words came out. She shook her head in frustration then jumped to her feet.
“Mom said Mr. Danton processed the legal papers for you to sign, they’ll be ready soon. They’re going off the most recent will after all.” She exhaled. “Mom isn’t going to try and get the estate so make sure you sign them and leave immediately, Julian. I’ll drive you to Providence and put you on the train if I have to. But just make sure you leave.”
I watched her, speechless, as Mackenzie scurried off in the direction of the main house. I wondered why she wanted to get away from me so bad. Then that day we were arguing on the deck popped up in my head, and what she said about me having no clue about what really happened between my mom and our father.
“Mackenzie,” I called after her.
She stopped and glanced back at me. “What?”
Treading up to her, I said, “Tell me what happened.”
She rolled her eyes. “What are you talking about?”
“That day, when me and my mom came here, my dad wouldn’t…” I shook my head. “…couldn’t see us. Why? Tell me what really happened.”
Mackenzie combed her fingers through her hair and looked out at the ocean, drifting off into an old memory.
“He couldn’t,” she said under her breath. “My mom and grandpa threatened to make you suffer if he did.”
“Why?”
Her eyes flicked back to mine. “Isn’t it obvious? Why don’t you ask Aunt Bev? She’s the one with his journal. It has everything.”
“I’m asking you.”
It went quiet between us, with only the sounds of rushing waves and birds chirping.
“He loved your mom,” she finally said. “He was going to leave and chase after her in New York. But he would’ve lost everything, and he didn’t want to lose this place. He hated it, but somehow, he still loved it. And he knew I needed him, so did Aunt Bev and his father.”
I wanted to hear the truth, only knowing it hurt a lot. “I wasn’t worth the sacrifice.”
My eyes watered. For a moment, it seemed like Mackenzie was going to dispute my words. She eased closer to me, a look of empathy in her eyes.
Then once again, she washed any hope I had of making a connection with her away, saying, “Well, what did you expect? You’re the bastard child after all.”
I waited until she turned her back and walked up to the main house before allowing the tears to stream down my face. Silly me for thinking that she cared. Even if there was a speck of kindness in her heart for me, she was too cold to show it.
*
Seven was still acting weird around me. On Wednesday, I went to Vanderson Publishing office in Newport with Aunt Bev. And every time he and I crossed paths, he’d look away and avoided me at all cost. I didn’t understand why. Yes, I did keep his father’s affair a secret, but there was no need for him to prolong his evasion when the cat was let out of the bag by his father anyway.
What made it worse, Bridget and I stumbled into each other when I was leaving the conference room where I usually go to work on the project if no meeting was in session. Whenever I came by the office with Aunt Bev, she’d get touchy-feely with Seven in my presence. She was trying really hard to make me jealous. And it was working.
Bridget stood three inches above me in her high heels. Brushing her salon-perfect brown hair off her shoulders, she unveiled a devious smile and moved to the side so I could pass.
Just as I stepped into the hall and started for Aunt Bev’s office, Bridget cleared her throat and stopped me in my tracks. “Julian, is it?”
When I slanted and looked back at her, Bridget started walking towards me. She stopped only a few feet away and folded her arms. �
��I’ve seen the way you look at him.”
“Look at who?”
“Don’t play dumb,” she cracked. “Seven. It’s obvious you like him.”
I gave her a cold stare then continued on my way. Bridget hurried up to my back and grabbed my arm. “Listen, Seven and I are trying to make things work between us so stay the hell away from him.”
Maybe that was the real reason he stopped himself from taking things further with me. It was never about the promise he made to my father. Still, it hurt so much more now that Bridget was confirming they indeed had a thing.
Yanking my arm free from her grasp, I said sharply, “He didn’t mention a thing about being in a relationship with you when he was kissing me.”
Bridget pressed her bright, red lips shut. They quivered in fury. “That doesn’t matter, because he’ll always care about me. Seven would never go for someone like you. I understand him far more than you ever could.”
She spun on her heels and strutted down the hallway. Her words reinforced what I already knew. Indeed, Seven and I were from different worlds. He would never start anything with me. I was the daughter of Cole Vanderson’s mistress. They’d already plastered an invisible scarlet letter on my mother. Seven being with me would be too embarrassing among his crowd.
Hopefully, Marlene would have the papers ready for me to sign once I returned to the estate, because I was just about ready to call it quits, get my stuff, and take the next train back to New York. My feelings for Seven were too strong to handle. I couldn’t stand not being with him.
When I walked into Aunt Bev’s office she read the gloomy expression on my face. Picking up on the tension between me and Seven, she asked Gavin to give me a ride home instead. I wasn’t too happy about that since he had a thing for Mackenzie and I also felt like a bum being driven around.
“So, where to?” he asked as we got in his jeep.
“The Vanderson estate.”
Looking over at me quizzically, he asked, “Why are you going there?”
I released an awkward chortle. “That’s where I’m staying.”
Finding Julian Page 12