by C. R. Ellis
We pulled to a stop in front of my apartment, and as Hulk and I climbed the stairs to my floor, I realized I hadn’t texted Jasmine back earlier. She still thought I was with Emmett, so she wouldn’t come breaking my door down. Which meant I could curl up in bed and block out reality for at least tonight.
Knowing my luck, Jas would probably walk out of her apartment any second. Then, she’d interrogate me until she noticed Harrison, at which time she’d lay on the charm. Harrison was clearly in tiptop shape physically, and attractive in a mysterious, could-probably-break-you-in-two kind of way. Totally Jasmine’s type. She’d be all over him before I could get a single word in.
“Jade?” he asked, waiting for me to gesture which direction to go from the stairway.
I pointed left and started toward my apartment. “Harrison?”
No answer.
I craned my neck upward again and gave him a questioning look.
“Should’ve known there’d be more,” he said, his tone only slightly sarcastic.
I shrugged. Whatever. This felt like a now-or-never moment. “Has he—do you think Emmett meant what he said about explaining everything?”
“I’m afraid that, Curious Jade, is one I can’t answer for you.”
Curious Jade? I chose to ignore the sinking feeling of disappointment at his inability to answer my question.
He caught my confusion and clarified with a rare smile. “Curious Jade. Because, I’m pretty sure you’d ask a thousand questions if I let you.”
Oh. “Fair enough.”
We walked the rest of the way in a stiff silence physically difficult for me to maintain. Every part of me wanted to drill him with more questions, just like my apparent nickname suggested, but I couldn’t. It appeared my questions would remain unanswered for who-knows-how-long.
When we neared my door, I nodded toward it and reached into the depths of my purse for my keys. “This is me.”
He stopped and waited without saying anything. Digging my keys out of what felt like Middle Earth, I inserted the correct one and turned to Harrison for my bag. When he didn’t immediately hand it over, I couldn’t keep my eyes from rolling.
“I think I can manage to get my bag in safely.”
Begrudgingly, he nodded and handed over the bag before I stepped across the threshold of my apartment.
“Well, this has been…enlightening, Harrison,” I said, not sure how else to describe the last fifteen minutes.
The corner of his lips twisted, and his dark eyes lightened marginally, just enough to make me wonder if the change had actually happened.
I turned back. “Wait. One more question.”
He mumbled something like Jesus Christ, this woman, under his breath.
“Harrison…first name or last name?”
“Sorry, Curious Jade, that’s a question for another day.”
Harrison stepped back into the hallway and away from my door. His large, dark fingers lifted and shook in an almost-wave before he disappeared.
Son of a bitch. Now I was the one mumbling vaguely under my breath.
Chapter 9
Emmett
“How was she?”
Harrison shrugged and let out a frustrated breath. “How do you think she was?” His tone was clipped as he cut his eyes down to mine. “She was confused, Emmett. Curious. Looking for answers I shouldn’t be the one giving.”
I sucked in a breath.
“What was I supposed to do, Harrison?” I hissed through my teeth, clenching my fists at my side. “You and I both know she can’t be here when he shows. And you know he’s coming because he’s practically my father’s shadow.”
Frustration, anger, and exasperation rolled through me in waves, each one doing its best to pull me apart at the seams. I needed to get a handle on this shit and lock it down. I didn’t have time to let emotions cloud my thinking or my actions. I knew it wasn’t Harrison’s fault my time with Jade got cut short. It wasn’t his fault William was currently mid-flight, on his way to “discuss an urgent matter” with me.
Harrison turned around from where he stood propped against the window overlooking downtown Austin. “Still doesn’t make sense. Why would William drop everything and fly to Texas on a whim? That’s pretty extreme, even for him.”
Harrison had grown up on the streets with nothing, and was headed down a dangerous path when he met John. He was an out-of-control twenty-year-old with two strikes against him, doing anything from stealing cars to participating in illegal street fights for cash. John was in the wrong place at the wrong time one night, and Harrison ended up stepping in and saving his life. In return, John and Emily practically took him in as an unofficial son, even though he was fully grown and had a massive chip on his shoulder.
He might’ve saved John that night, but John and Emily ended up saving his life in a big way. They never looked back, and Harrison was like the older brother I never had. He knew the truth about the depths of the Sinclair family dysfunction and depravity, and I’d always appreciated being able to confide in him.
“Who the fuck knows why William does any of the shit he does? I stopped asking those kinds of questions years ago when it comes to him.”
“How do you wanna handle things when they get here?”
They meaning William and Will. Because my dear little brother was always close by to do whatever was asked of him, and occasionally used his own brain to come up with ways to get under my skin or screw with my head.
“I wanna wipe the arrogant fucking look off Will’s face with a seriously overdue left hook,” I admitted. Filtering my thoughts was never something I worried about with Harrison.
“Got a plan that won’t land your ass in jail?”
“Not one I care to act on.”
Harrison dropped down to sit on a chaise lounge, pulling his phone out. “They’ll probably be here in two hours. In the meantime, you should call Hope to remind yourself why going to jail isn’t an option.”
I rolled my eyes and brought my hands to my neck, trying to rub out the knots of tension William always evoked. I knew Harrison was right, but I was too worked up and pissed to follow anyone’s advice.
“I’ll call her later. I’m going the hotel’s gym. Call me when they’re here,” I barked before slamming the door closed.
An hour and a half later, I was breathless and physically exhausted. I’d run six miles then put in some quality time with a punching bag. The gym had floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the pool area outside. I tried to focus on the people bouncing back and forth between the bar and the pool while I ran on the treadmill. My eyes focused on the bustling bodies, but my mind refused to process any of the scene in front of me. Running usually cleared distractions from my mind, but not today.
I’d been out of the shower less than a minute when Harrison knocked on the door, telling me the Senator was almost here. I’d hoped running and pounding the punching bag would alleviate some of the rage burning a fire through my veins. It didn’t.
Five minutes later I was dressed in gym shorts and a plain black tee with the J.S. Innovations logo. My father would be in designer clothes and shoes worth more than most people’s rent, which was exactly why I’d opted for casual; I never wanted to have anything in common with the man other than half my DNA.
Harrison and I stepped off the elevator just as my father and Will walked through the hotel lobby’s revolving glass door. The open, airy space of the lobby was suffocating now, like Senator William Sinclair had cursed it with his presence.
I turned in the direction of the bar located at the far end of the lobby and forced my hands to un-fist when Harrison nudged my shoulder with his. “Won’t be able to see her again if you’re in jail for assaulting a standing U.S. Senator.”
I was about to ask if he was referring to Jade or Hope or Caroline when I realized he was right, no matter which her he meant. I exhaled for the first time in what felt like hours, and stood at the bar to give my order while Satan and his spawn stopped to chat
outside the glass barrier between the lobby and the bar.
“Scotch, neat,” I ordered.
The bartender nodded and slid a glass of amber goodness toward me just as they came to a stop at my side. William was, as expected, dressed in a tailored navy blue designer suit. His blonde hair was cut short and probably dyed to conceal any grays he surely had by now, at the age of sixty-three. I felt ill each time our physical resemblances struck me. Then again, my mother had blonde hair and blue eyes too, so I couldn’t blame it all on William.
“You’re wasting your time,” I deadpanned after taking a necessary gulp of scotch.
“Nice to see you too,” my father replied with a deceptively smooth tone. He gestured for the bartender and ordered a martini.
“We both know it’s not. What do you want?” I barked, not bothering with pleasantries.
“Careful, brother. Might want to mind the tone you use when you address our father,” chimed my asshole of a brother.
I leaned back on my stool and glared at him. “I didn’t ask for your input, Will, so you can fuck off.”
He shook his head and laughed, instantly setting me on edge. Aside from my dimples, Will and I looked scarily identical. These days our hair length was the biggest tell between us. But his eyes were a big tell too. They were cold and harsh, full of contempt. On a cursory glance, though, there was no mistaking our identical DNA.
Harrison cleared his throat in a silent reminder of what was at stake.
I gave him a small nod and turned back to William.
“You came an awfully long way to chat,” I prompted.
On my best day, I barely tolerated a meal with my family; I pretended like our history wouldn’t have most normal people running for the hills. On my worst day, I wanted to have Harrison’s old fighting connections corner my father and Will alone in a dark alley where they’d get what was coming to them. Today I was beyond the alley scenario. I wanted William and his namesake to suffer.
“What the fuck do you want?” I asked through gritted teeth after his prolonged silence.
“Easy,” Harrison muttered, gripping the edge of the bar with both hands.
William cut his eyes to me in a glare that told me he wasn’t too fond of my tone. Too bad. I wasn’t too fond of him ruining my time with Jade.
“How’s my bastard daughter doing?”
I threw back the rest of the scotch before slamming it down with enough force the glass should’ve shattered.
The bartender darted his eyes toward me and was about to open his mouth when he read the look of pure rage branded across my features. Apparently realizing interference would be a stupid idea, he moved toward some guests at the other end of the bar instead. A few sets of eyes were drawn by the harsh clang of the glass, but they quickly looked away when they saw the warning look Harrison gave off. He put his hand on my shoulder, a preemptive strike on his part because he knew I’d be rearing back to smash my fist into William’s face in seconds.
I shook his hand off and stood to get in William’s face. “Don’t you dare talk about her like that.” William’s lips curled into a menacing smile, telling me he enjoyed my reaction. I settled back into my seat. “I know you didn’t come all this way to talk about Hope.”
“Actually, I did. How do you know Curtis Long?” he asked.
“I don’t. Who is he?” The name sounded vaguely familiar, but I couldn’t place it.
His jaw clenched. “You’re telling me you and Hope aren’t currently working with him on an article about me?”
“That’s exactly what I’m telling you. How do you even know this guy’s story isn’t just speculative tabloid bullshit?”
“Because he’s a respected reporter, goddamn it,” he growled, slamming his fist down on the bar. “He came across an old photo of you two, and at first he thought she was your mistress, but then he noticed the similarities between you. So he kept looking and found other pictures. Apparently he’s pursuing the story, and if he hasn’t already, he’ll be reaching out to you soon. Hope too, once he digs deep enough to find her name.”
I didn’t bother asking how he knew this information. William had connections all over Massachusetts; this wouldn’t be the first damaging news story he’d discovered prior to publication.
“Even if either of us did talk to this guy, which we would never fucking do, it wouldn’t matter. I’m sure you’ll just do what you do every time there’s a scandal you want to hide. Bribes, threats, blackmail, whatever it takes. Hell, you probably have old clients chomping at the bit to do your dirty work for you.”
I tried to appear unbothered by William’s news, but knowing he’d flown to Austin just to have a conversation meant he was concerned about this Curtis guy. Seeing him lose his cool was further proof.
He just shook his head. “Still, you make sure she understands what the repercussions could be should she go public. I refuse to let that greedy little bitch ruin my future. I hope she can do a better job of keeping her mouth shut than her mother could do of keeping her legs closed. Not even you will be able to keep her safe if she doesn’t, Emmett,” he threatened calmly.
“You son of a bitch!” I stood so abruptly my barstool clattered to the ground. Harrison gripped both my arms with his hands to hold me back. William wasn’t even fazed. He set his glass down with a nonchalance that sent fire burning through my limbs. Will knocked back a shot and acted like nothing was happening as he studied his phone screen.
“Senator, you need to get the hell out of here. Now,” Harrison instructed.
William hesitated a few beats, long enough for me to struggle against Harrison’s hold, drawing some unwanted attention. As much as he loved the power struggle between us, Senator Sinclair did not want to be a public spectacle. He slowly rose to his feet and turned to leave.
“One more thing,” Will said, flipping through his phone to find a photo. “Who is this fine piece of ass? And does she know about your track record with the women you care about? It would only be fair to tell her what you did to Tracy,” he added, looking between my face and a photo of me with Jade from earlier today. His grin set me off. The black and white photo was from the hotel’s security camera. There wasn’t a clear shot of her face but my body language, and the way I was holding Jade was enough for him to tell she mattered to me.
Goddamn it.
I broke free of Harrison’s vice grip and threw a punch at Will as a strained, animalistic growl bubbled up and escaped from within me. I wanted to pound him into the ground and then rip him apart with my bare hands. My punch caught Will off guard, causing him to stumble backward. He probably didn’t think I’d act so impulsively in a crowded bar. Huge mistake.
I connected with his jaw a second time and hoped the cracking sound meant he was feeling every bit of the pain he deserved. After regaining his composure, he swung wildly, but I dodged his fist before he connected. I was about to swing again when Harrison managed to pull me away and shove me out of the bar.
“Hope you were at least able to do some damage,” he mumbled as we stepped into the elevator. “Shit’s gonna hurt tomorrow.”
I wasn’t worried about my hand. All I cared about was figuring out what the fuck I was going to do about the fact that Will had a picture of Jade. The picture was grainy, but Will would figure out who Jade was because I’d gone and beaten his ass. William Sinclair, Jr. had already turned my life upside down once. I couldn't let him do it again. I’d stay in Austin until I knew Will was no longer in the same time zone as Jade, then I’d stay as far away from her as possible.
Will and I were five when our father had a brief affair with Mallory Akins, a paralegal at his firm. The affair didn’t last long (probably because he’d moved on to screwing a client shortly after their first tryst)—just long enough for her to get knocked up. We didn’t meet Hope until she was five. Even then, my father told us she was a second cousin once removed or something. We saw her occasionally around the holidays and a couple weeks in the summer. I’d hit it off
with her the first time we met, even though she was half my age at the time. I never considered any other possibility about her origins as a child. I never gave any thought to how cold and distant my mother was around her until after the facts came out. Looking back, I should’ve noticed the striking similarities between us. Our eyes were different shades of blue, but her wavy blonde hair and dimples matched mine.
The summer before my senior year of high school, when I was seventeen and Hope was twelve, the truth – that she was really my sister – came out in an argument between my parents that Hope overheard. The steps my father took in an effort to make sure Hope never ruined his image, and thereby, his political aspirations, were the last straw for me. Until that day, my plan was to go away to college – to put as much distance as possible between myself and my family – but I couldn’t leave Hope. So I stayed in Boston and went to MIT.
I’d make the same decision over if I had to, but the idea of relocation had never been more appealing than it was today.
“Emmett, hey. What’s up?” The sound of my sister’s voice made me smile.
“Just wanted to check in. Miss you.”
“We miss you too. Think you could swing a visit to Texas next month? Colby has a business trip, and Caroline and I are tagging along. Halfway across the country is easier than coast-to-coast for a weekend. Caroline really wants to see her Uncle E.”
I hesitated. “Maybe. I’m actually in Texas right now. Long story.”
“I was wondering when you’d tell me. What’s the occasion?” she asked.
“What do you mean when I’d tell you?”
“I saw some article online about you. They used a photo of you after your Christmas party last year, where you somehow managed to look sober at 3 a.m. It was—”
“Fucking tabloids,” I huffed, interrupting the rest of her statement.