She glanced up at the screen; Rose and Will’s plane had landed at last. She needed to find her sister and her best friend.
And then she needed to go home and find Tom.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
GOD, WHAT A DAY. Tom had been surprised when Rick had called him into his studio, and stunned when he’d insisted on doing an interview right now.
But the material he’d got was golden.
‘I think, whenever you lose someone close to you, you always wonder if there was something more you could have done. Some small thing that would have kept them with you.’ Rick shook his head, staring down at his hands. ‘With Jez...knowing that I really could have done more—that I could have saved him if he’d let me, if he’d just called. That’s going to be hard to live with. As is the guilt. Wondering if I should have seen the signs sooner, should have taken more precautions.’
Tom swallowed before asking his next question, reminding himself that today Rick was a subject, not a friend, not the father of the woman he was in love with. That he was here to do a job—one Rick had hired him for. That meant not shying away from the hard questions.
‘Do you think...were there signs? Ones that you missed?’
Rick sighed. ‘Probably. But, then again, maybe not. When an addiction takes hold...sometimes it can be a slow build towards cracking again, but more often it can just be one moment, one instant that flips you from recovering to addict again. There’s such a thin line...and sometimes Jez liked to walk it. To put himself in the way of temptation.’ He shook his head again. ‘I don’t know. If he wanted to hide it from me, he knew how. And with everything that’s been going on here the last few months...maybe I wasn’t paying the attention that I should have been.’
Guilt was etched in Rick’s craggy face, whatever his words. Tom knew that guilt. That was the sort that never went away, the type you could never make up for once that moment had passed, the opportunity had been missed.
Rick Cross would blame himself for his best friend’s death for the rest of his life, whether there was anything he could have done to prevent it or not. Facts didn’t matter here, only love.
‘Dad?’ The door to the studio creaked open and Violet appeared through it. ‘Rose and Will are here. And...have you seen...?’ She trailed off as she caught sight of him. Tom gave her an apologetic smile, hoping she wasn’t too mad about him missing the airport run. He’d planned to talk to her about it, but Rick had been very insistent that the interview was happening now or not at all.
‘They’re here?’ Rick wiped his cheeks with the back of his hands and jumped to his feet. ‘Sorry, Tom. We’ll do this later, yeah?’
But Violet wasn’t looking at her dad. She was still staring at Tom. And he had a horrible feeling that this might just have been his last interview with Rick Cross.
‘I’m sorry I couldn’t come to the airport with you,’ Tom said as Rick shut the door behind him. ‘Was it okay?’
‘What were you talking to Dad about just then?’ Violet’s tone was clipped and her gaze sharp. ‘Never mind; I’d rather hear it anyway.’ She held out a hand for his phone and, with a sense of foreboding, Tom handed it over.
‘He asked me to come in here,’ he said as she fiddled with the settings. ‘He wanted to talk about some things with me now, while they were still fresh. He said you’d asked him about going on stage for the concert and he wasn’t sure. He still needed to work some things out. He thought doing the interview might help.’
He sounded as if he was making excuses, Tom knew, when he had nothing to excuse. He’d been doing his job—and trying to help Rick at the same time. And Violet, for that matter, if it helped him get back on stage for the Benefit.
She had absolutely no reason to be mad at him, and yet he was pretty damn sure she was.
Violet pressed play and Rick’s voice filled the room, cracked and broken and distraught.
‘I think, whenever you lose someone close to you, you always wonder if there was something more you could have done. Some small thing that would have kept them with you. With Jez...knowing that I really could have done more—that I could have saved him, if he’d let me, if he’d just called. That’s going to be hard to live with. As is the guilt. Wondering if I should have seen the signs sooner, should have taken more precautions.’
Violet jabbed a finger at the phone and the voice stopped.
‘This is why you came, isn’t it?’ she said, her voice too even, too calm. ‘I think I forgot that, with...everything that happened between us. But you were only ever here to do a job, weren’t you? To find out all the dirty little secrets in the closets of my family and friends and put them on display for the world to see. Uncle Jez said—’ She broke off, and Tom could see her hands trembling as she held his phone. He wanted to go to her so much it burned. ‘He told my dad to find a better closet to hide those skeletons in. But in the end, he was the biggest story you could have hoped for, wasn’t he? You must have been so frustrated to miss all the drama of Daisy’s wedding, and then Rose’s too. But at least there was still one sister here for you to get close to and seduce. And then Uncle Jez overdosed in Dad’s car and you realised you had the story of the century right here. An interview with a grief-stricken Rick Cross. All you had to do was make sure none of the other journalists got to him first.’ She gulped back a sob, and the sound broke his heart. ‘And to think I thought you were doing us a favour, turning them all away.’
‘Violet, no. You’re wrong.’ She had to be wrong. None of this had been planned—least of all the part where he fell for her. ‘I told you. I’m not that kind of journalist.’ He just had to reason with her. She was upset, and that was understandable, but she’d come round once she calmed down and saw the truth. That was all. He just had to be patient and not lose his temper and everything would be fine. ‘Your dad asked me to come here; you know that. And he asked for the interview today.’ He stepped closer, reaching out for her, but she flinched away. ‘And I know you’ve had bad experiences before so I understand why you might be a bit sensitive—’
‘A bit sensitive?’
Tom winced. ‘Bad choice of words. I mean, I can see why you might worry about these things. But you don’t need to. I’m not like your ex. I’m one of the good guys.’
‘Yeah?’ Violet’s expression tightened. ‘And is that what you told Kristy Callahan?’
The bottom dropped out of Tom’s lungs, leaving him fighting to suck in the air he needed to respond. Just the sound of her name sent the guilt crashing in waves over his shoulders and, in that moment, he knew just how Rick felt. Worse, because Rick hadn’t actually done anything wrong. Whereas he had known exactly what he was doing and had done it anyway.
God, Violet was right. He was every bit as bad as her ex; he just hid it better.
‘How did you...? Never mind.’ It didn’t matter now, anyway. She knew, and that was enough. ‘I can explain. Will you listen to me?’
Violet barked a laugh, harsh and uncompromising. ‘Listen to you? I don’t even need to, Tom. I know exactly what you’re going to say. That she knew what she was doing. She was a celebrity; she knew the score, and the risks. That it was different then—that she meant nothing to you. That I’m different...we’re different. If you’re really desperate, you’ll probably trot out the love line. How being with me has changed you, that now you love me you could never do something like that again.’
The vitriol and bitterness in her words was sharp enough to cut, and the worst part was that she was right. He’d tell her anything to win her back right now. And she’d never believe it was because he truly did love her.
She’d never believe anything he ever said again.
But he still had to try.
‘It was a mistake. I was just starting out and the paper I worked for... I didn’t take those photos; you have to believe that much. I wouldn’t do that.’
‘No, you’d just syndicate them in papers and news outlets around the world.’ Her mouth tightened again. ‘T
his was the real reason you fell out with your mother, isn’t it? This was what she couldn’t forgive.’
‘Yes. It was. But...it wasn’t like you think.’ He had to find some way to make her understand. She might never trust him again, and his chances of getting her to fall in love with him were non-existent now. He’d thought he had time, and now he was scrambling just to make her believe he wasn’t the biggest scumbag on the planet.
Which, given some of his past actions, was a lot harder than he’d like.
‘Really, Tom? You’re going to try and tell me what it was like?’ She gave him a mocking half smile. ‘Trust me, I know. I lived it, after all.’
No. He wouldn’t let her think that he was just like her ex. He’d made a mistake, sure, but he hadn’t planned it. Hadn’t deliberately set out to destroy that girl. And she had to know that.
‘It’s not the same. Violet, you have to listen to me—’
‘No! I don’t! Not any more. I listened to you, right from that first night. And I should have known better. I knew what you were, and I knew how this would end. I should never have let you in, never let you close.’ She shook her head sadly. ‘You said it the night we met. I was never anything more than the Sex Tape Twin to you. Someone you could use to get what you wanted because I didn’t matter at all. I’m just a punchline, right? Just a grainy video on the internet for late night comedians to use to get a cheap laugh, even all these years later.’
How could she think that? After everything they’d shared, after the way they’d been together?
‘You know the worst part?’ Violet asked. ‘I actually trusted you. All that talk about never trusting anyone outside my family and I just let you in. Because you were nice to me.’ She laughed, low and bitter. ‘How desperate must I have been? God, you must have thought you had it made.’
Anger rolled through his body, working its way up through his chest and finding its way out of his mouth before he could even think to censor his words.
‘You talk about trust? If you trusted me one iota you’d listen to me. You’d let me explain. You’d trust me enough not to jump to the worst conclusion at the first sign of trouble.’ Violet stepped back at the force of his words, and he wanted to feel bad about that but he couldn’t find it in himself. ‘How did you even find out about that story? Did you go hunting for a reason to put between us? Or did someone tip you off?’ The faint splash of pink that coloured her cheeks told him that he’d hit the mark. ‘Who was it? Rose? Or another reporter?’ The obvious truth slammed into him and he almost laughed at the ridiculousness of it. ‘It was him, wasn’t it? After everything he did to you, you still trust his word over mine.’
‘I trust facts!’ Violet shot back. ‘How I found out doesn’t matter—except that it wasn’t from you. If you want my trust, you have to give me the truth.’
‘How could I tell you this?’ Tom asked. ‘Violet, you’ve been hiding away here so long, so scared of what people might think or say, you don’t even know what trust looks like any more. You wouldn’t even talk to me about whether we were in a relationship! I was falling madly in love with you and I couldn’t even say the words in case I spooked you. In case you jumped to exactly the conclusions you ran to today.’
‘The right conclusions,’ Violet countered, conveniently ignoring all his other points.
‘No.’ The anger faded, as fast as it had come, and all Tom was left with was that cold, hard certainty. ‘You’re wrong about me. I made a mistake ten years ago. But since I’ve come here the only mistake I’ve made was believing that you could move past your mistakes, your history, and find a future with me.’
Violet stared at him, her eyes wide, and for just a moment he thought she might actually listen to his side of the story. Then she held out his phone and her thumb grazed the play button again.
‘Do you think...were there signs? Ones that you missed?’
His own voice, pressing Rick for more answers, a deeper admission of guilt.
Violet’s face turned stony at the sound.
Rick’s heavy sigh echoed around the studio.
‘Probably. But then again, maybe not. When an addiction takes hold...sometimes it can be a slow build towards cracking again, but more often it can just be one moment, one instant that flips you from recovery to addict again. There’s such a thin line...and sometimes Jez liked to walk it. To put himself in the way of temptation.’
She pressed ‘stop’ again and dropped the phone to the table as if it were poisoned.
‘I’m not ignoring the signs,’ she said, each word like a bullet. ‘And I’m not staying anywhere near temptation. I want you to leave. Today.’
‘Your father—’ He couldn’t go. Never mind the story of a lifetime; if he left her now Tom knew Violet would never let him back in, no matter how fast he talked.
‘Will understand when I explain exactly what you’ve done.’ Her eyes were cold, her arms folded across her chest like a shield. ‘You’re just a reporter. I’m family. Trust me on this. I know which one he’s going to choose.’
So did Tom. And he knew when he was beaten.
He gave a slight nod and reached for his phone. ‘I’ll pack now and be gone within the hour.’
He’d gambled everything on this being more than a story. Time to admit he’d lost.
‘Goodbye, Violet.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
VIOLET STOOD SHAKING in the middle of the studio for long minutes after Tom left. She needed to move, needed to talk to Rose, needed to explain to her father what she’d done. But how could she when she felt as if her heart, along with some other essential internal organs, had been ripped out?
She’d known, from the moment she saw that story with his name on it, exactly how the day would go. Had known she’d be standing here alone again at the end of it. Seeing Tom abuse her father’s trust and exploit his grief for a story had only made it easier.
She’d made the right decision. She’d got out before Tom could tear her life apart again.
So why did she feel so broken all the same?
‘Violet, honey?’ When had her dad come in? How had she missed that? ‘Where’s Tom? Your mum said she just saw him walking out the front with a suitcase.’
‘I told him to leave.’ The words came out as barely more than a whisper. Would Dad be mad? He’d invited Tom here, after all. He was his guest—his employee, really. It hadn’t been her place to send him away.
But what else could she do?
His expression cautious, Rick put his arm around her and led her over to the sofa, away from the chairs he and Tom had been sitting in when she’d entered the room. How long ago was that now, anyway? Time seemed strange. Confused.
‘What happened, honey?’ he asked, sitting beside her. ‘Tell your old dad.’
Violet frowned, trying to find the right words to explain. In the end, what came out was, ‘Did you really ask him to interview you about Jez today?’
‘Why, yeah. I did.’ Rick’s eyebrows lifted with surprise. ‘Is that what all this is about? Vi, honey, it was my choice. When you asked me earlier about going on stage this weekend...I wasn’t sure what I wanted to do. I figured talking it out some might help. And Tom, well, he’s a good guy, right? And since all this will probably end up in the book eventually anyway, I wanted to get it down—how raw it feels right now. In case it helps anyone else going through the same thing.’
In case it helped someone else. Sometimes Violet wondered if her parents thought too much about that and not enough about themselves. But that was who they were and she loved them for it, all the same.
‘Are you sure it was a good idea?’ she asked. ‘I mean, everyone wants that interview, and you don’t know what Tom is going to do with it now he’s—’ She broke off with a sob before she could reach the word gone.
Rick tugged her closer and she buried her face in his shoulder. ‘Do you want me to get your mum? Or your sisters?’
Violet shook her head against his top. ‘No. I just...I jus
t need a few minutes.’ A few minutes to let the misery out. To let go of all the hope she’d clung to over the last week or so. The chance that her future might be different to her past.
Uncle Jez had probably had that hope too, and look where it had got him.
That thought set off another wave of tears, and Violet didn’t try to fight them. She might be all grown up these days, but sometimes a girl still needed her daddy’s shoulder to cry on.
Eventually, though, the sobs faded and her tears dried and she knew her dad was going to want some answers.
‘You sent him away,’ Rick said. Not a question, not even a judgement. Just an opening, to show he was listening if she wanted to explain.
‘I found something out about him,’ Violet replied, unsure how much she really wanted him to know. Except this was her dad. He’d been there through everything. He’d understand, right? He’d want his little girl safe and happy. ‘I know you thought he was a trustworthy journalist, I know that’s why you picked him to write your book. But Dad, he wrote a story once. A story that destroyed a girl’s life—just like Nick destroyed mine.’
Rick stilled, his arms securely tucked around her. ‘You’re sure?’
‘Very. He admitted it.’ Well, sort of. ‘He claimed it wasn’t the same but then he would, wouldn’t he?’
Rick sighed, deep and heartfelt. ‘Then I understand why you did what you did. But Violet, I need you to remember something very important, okay?’ He pulled back to stare into her eyes, and Violet gave a small nod. ‘Your life wasn’t destroyed. Remember that.’
Shame filled Violet’s chest. Here she was complaining when Uncle Jez’s life was gone for ever. And she’d give anything for him to be caught up in a sex scandal right now, even if it meant the papers dragging up her own sordid story all over again.
‘I know. Compared to Uncle Jez—’
‘That’s not what I mean,’ Rick said with a sharp shake of the head. ‘Think about it, Violet. You still have your home, your family. They took your confidence, and I’ll never forgive them for that. But you’re still you. You’re still my daughter. And you are still loved.’
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