A Righteous Man

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A Righteous Man Page 13

by Crownover, Jay


  “You look great.” The photographer flashed me a wink and gave me a grin, probably trying to butter me up so I didn’t complain about the lack of professionalism at this shoot. “For what it’s worth, I think you’re much prettier than Kate Beckinsale. And you have better taste in men. If you’re going to hook up with a heartthrob who is a decade younger than you, Salinger Dolan is the one to pick.” She made a face and shook her head. “Though, I do find Pete Davidson weirdly attractive.”

  I sighed heavily and gave my head a little shake. “Like I said, Salinger and I just work together.”

  But even as I said the phrase again, I could tell that it sounded like I was trying to convince myself rather than the strangers in the room.

  Salinger

  I WAS TIRED, as always, and I wasn’t expecting company. So, when I heard someone moving through my house when I was supposed to be alone, my first instinct was to alert my security company. Jeno was out on a date. I didn’t expect him home anytime soon, if at all. I didn’t expect him to ever mention or see the girl again. The boy was doing his best to sleep his way through the greater Los Angeles area, and it wasn’t like I could tell him what a bad idea that was. When I was his age, I did the same thing, until I realized I was just as addicted to sex as I was to everything else that made me either numb or feel really, really good.

  I took the act of being with someone much more seriously these days, but for the life of me, I couldn’t find the right words to explain to Maren why what happened in her hotel room wasn’t just a one-off. Part of me was convinced she wouldn’t believe me. Another part knew she would deny that she returned the attraction that simmered so close to the surface whenever we were alone together. She already played the ‘I was drunk’ card when I tried to talk to her about what happened. To keep the peace and make our professional association easier, I was willing to drop the encounter—for now.

  What I wasn’t going to let slide was an intruder in my house. After some of the insomnia fog that forever swirled in my mind at night lifted, I roused myself enough to carefully search for whomever was invading my private sanctuary. But I realized no one could get through the gate at the entrance of the community without being on the admittance list. And no one was getting close to my house without the code to the gate at the end of my driveway. They also had to have their fingerprint keyed into the lock for the front door to open without setting off every alarm in the place. There were only five people in the whole world who had access. Me. Jeno. The older woman who came in and cleaned for us twice a week. Our grandmother. And Jeno’s mom. The last one I’d been against, but Jeno insisted. He wanted to make sure she could get in on the off-chance he was tied up somewhere and couldn’t get to me in an emergency. I tried to explain to him that his mom would let me bleed out before she tried to save me. She wouldn’t even spit on me if I was on fire, but he didn’t see her the same way I did. As controlling and demanding as she was, she was still his mother, and he believed she wanted what was best for him.

  I’d encountered her in the house more than once. She always claimed she was there for something with Jeno, like doing his laundry or dropping off food for him so we didn’t live off delivery for days on end. I always got the impression she was searching for a way to convince him to move out and come back home. She never made it much of a secret that she wanted Jeno to enroll in college and get out of show business altogether. She really wanted him to be the exact opposite of the kind of men she tended to marry, including his father.

  Rubbing my eyes and scratching my bare chest, I wandered out of my bedroom, where I’d been going over a contract to be a spokesperson for some energy drink. I made my way to the kitchen and, as expected, a middle-aged woman was leaning into the massive, double door fridge and loading it with glass containers full of food. Jeno’s mom was in her early fifties but looked like she was in her thirties. She could still find work as a model if she was interested, but she wasn’t the type who ever wanted to provide for herself. She was undeniably beautiful, but as cold as they came. The fact that she barely smiled or showed any expression had nothing to do with Botox and everything to do with the fact that she was an angry, mean woman who refused to figure out what would make her happy. Instead of trying to find her own joy, she was determined to make her only child as miserable as she was so they could suffer together.

  “Toren. To what do I owe the pleasure of this visit? Jeno isn’t here. He had plans tonight.” I propped a hip on the edge of the massive island and grinned when she jumped a little at the sound of my voice. Obviously, she thought the house was going to be empty.

  She finished stocking the fridge with food that would more than likely get tossed out after it was left uneaten. She wasn’t a very good cook. Jeno and I knew she just used the home-cooked meals as an excuse to come to the house since neither one of us ever invited her over.

  “He did mention he was going on a date tonight. With a girl in a band, if I recall correctly.” She sniffed and lifted a hand to smooth her perfect blond hair. “His taste in young women is as questionable as his taste in roommates.”

  I grinned at her and raised an eyebrow. She always tried to get under my skin but I refused to show her when she succeeded. Occasionally she went for the jugular and managed to really rattle me, but most of the time, talking with her was like arguing with a bully on the playground. If you showed fear, she knew she won, so I always did my best to appear totally unaffected by her pointed barbs and ruthless digs.

  “He’s just living his best life like any twenty-two-year-old should. You should encourage him to be out there searching for his passion instead of criticizing every move he makes. You’re smart enough to know that the more you tell him you hate the decisions he’s making, the more determined he’s going to be to defy you. And just so you know, he doesn’t have any particular taste in young women. He likes them all.”

  I chuckled as she narrowed her eyes at me. They were an icy blue similar to my brother’s, but hers were so much colder. In fact, it was like being frozen in place when she glared at me. “Why are you here, Toren? It’s late, and you are not welcome in my home when my brother isn’t here.”

  She narrowed her eyes at me and stiffened. “He is not your brother. You are not blood-related. You are not part of our family, no matter how badly you want to be.”

  It was a common refrain that she liked to toss around whenever Jeno and I referred to each other as brother.

  “Hmm… I remember saying the same thing to you when you married my father and demanded that I call you mom. I told you that I already had a mother, even if she’s pretty much worthless, and that we weren’t family, no matter how hard you tried to force me to play the role of dutiful son. I’m pretty sure you slapped me across the face for saying that, and my dad took away my car for a month.” I snickered at her and narrowed my eyes to match her glare for glare. “Oh, how the tides have turned.”

  The older woman pulled her shoulders up and pursed her lips tightly together like she was sucking on a lemon. “Speaking of your mother, I heard she was in Monaco with her hot yoga instructor the last couple of months. Has she bothered to check on you since you’ve been home from rehab? Does she know you’re dragging my son into some farfetched movie-making scheme, instead of encouraging him to further his education? Does she know you rely on him for everything and won’t let him live his own life? Does she know you’re dragging him down into the ditch with you?”

  I sighed and raked a hand through my messy hair. “She doesn’t care about me in the slightest. Do you really think she wastes time worrying about Jeno? She barely remembers my name most days. She’s the last person who will step in and save your son from my evil ways. Nice try, though.” I flashed her a wink. “Next time, ask about grandma. If she was concerned about me leading Jeno astray, I’d actually give a shit.”

  “That woman is not his grandmother any more than you are his brother.” She sniffed again and gripped the strap of the purse slung over her shoulder so tightly
, her knuckles turned white.

  I rolled my eyes and pushed off the counter, taking a step toward where she was hovering near the fridge. “You considered her his grandmother when you needed money to pay off your credit card debt a few months ago. It’s been awhile between husbands. I’m sure you’re starting to feel the hit financially. Admit it. The only reason you want Jeno to get a degree is so he can take care of you, and you can finally stop husband-hopping as a career.”

  She swore at me and started for the door, still not answering my question about why she was in my home unannounced and uninvited when she thought no one was home. I made a mental note to add some interior cameras to the security set up if this was a common occurrence and she was up to something shady. I was going to have to keep the upgrade from Jeno, which he wouldn’t like. But that blind spot he had for her was going to get me in trouble if I wasn’t careful.

  “You can hate me all you want, Salinger. You can resent me and blame me that my marriage to your father fell through. But you can never deny that I love my son. You well know I am willing to do anything for him and his well-being. You can’t say that about anyone in your life other than Jeno. Your grandmother is too old and too out of it to see you for who you really are. She can only see the innocent little boy who used to sing and dance to make her happy. I’ll never know how you brainwashed my son into believing you were worth saving when it’s clear you just keep him around because he’s the only one who sees any value within you. He deserves so much more than you or your father ever gave to him. Mark my words, one of these days, I will pull the curtain back and expose you for the sick, sad, useless young man you really are. I will get my son away from you if it’s the very last thing I do on this Earth.” She smiled, but it sent chills down my spine because it was so cruel and ugly. “That is, if your addiction and lack of restraint don’t take you out of his life before I can. Wouldn’t that be tragic?”

  She swept out of the house in a purely villainous way, leaving an icy gust of air behind her. I shivered as I dug my phone out of my pocket to call the security company that not only monitored my house and surrounding property, but also the entrance to the private community. It only took a minute to take Jeno’s mom off the approved visitor list. I knew he would have a fit about the change when he found out, but future me could deal with that headache. I had to do something for my sanity now so I didn’t dive headfirst into a bottle to soothe my rattled nerves.

  Toren was a bad bitch because she knew exactly where to strike for the most impact… just like any other snake.

  I grew up mistaking the way my parents doted on me as long as I was making money for love. The minute I became a burden, rather than the breadwinner, I realized just how alone and emotionally neglected I was. Jeno really was the only one who stuck with me, but he was young when I started to freefall. He couldn’t save me back then. It was still a niggling doubt in the back of my mind that my only purpose was to be a performing puppet for others, and that I really didn’t have any value other than my ability to make money.

  It was easy for dark clouds of doubt to gather and obliterate all the progress I’d made, so I needed to be proactive and not just wait for my demons to wake up and eat me alive.

  Since my hand was still on my phone, I went to tap Jeno’s number, but paused, thinking about all the hate and vitriol his mother launched my way. She wasn’t wrong that I only had him to rely on, and that if I failed, I was absolutely going to drag him down with me.

  Instead of tapping on his name, I moved to the next one on my recently called list and was honestly shocked when she answered.

  “Why are you calling me so late, Salinger?” Maren sounded sleepy and sexy, but she picked up the call, which convinced me no matter how much she denied it, she really did kind of care about me.

  “Did I wake you up?” After all, not everyone struggled to sleep the way I did.

  “No. I was reading through a few film proposals, but I am getting ready for bed. Why?” She sounded equally curious and impatient.

  “Can I come over?” I hadn’t been to her place in Malibu and I was curious about the beach house. She didn’t strike me as the sun-and-sand type. Plus, it would take a bit to drive down the coast, and I could use the time as a much-needed distraction from my wild thoughts.

  I thought she was going to tell me to take a hike. It was a random request, and she made it clear we didn’t have the ‘visit in the middle of the night’ kind of friendship. She surprised me again when she asked quietly, “Are you okay?”

  “No. I’m never okay. I’ve just learned how to fake functioning really well.” It was perhaps the most honest I’d been with anyone in my entire life.

  She was quiet for a long moment until I heard her swear softly under her breath. “I’ll text you directions to my house. Don’t do anything stupid before you get here. You can tell me what happened in person, and I’ll do my best to make you feel better.”

  I laughed and nodded jerkily, even though she couldn’t see me. “I won’t ruin my life, or yours, in the time it takes me to drive to Malibu. Promise.” I hung up and went in search of a shirt.

  I wondered absently if I should text her back and tell her if she really wanted to make me feel better, words weren’t going to cut it.

  I wanted so much more from her, and eventually, she was going to have to stop pretending like she couldn’t see it every time she looked at me and caught me watching her like she was the only person in the world I could see.

  Maren

  IT WAS PLAYING with fire to invite Salinger over in the middle of the night.

  I knew that, but I couldn’t help myself after he told me he was never okay. I understood the sentiment of constantly feeling like you had to put on an act to appear like you had it together, when on the inside, you really felt like a million little needles were poking at your most soft and tender spots. It was exhausting to constantly try and fool others into thinking you had it all together. It was even more tiring to trick yourself into believing it when you were bleeding from a hundred invisible wounds. The last thing I wanted was for Salinger to fall off the wagon. A lot of time and money would be wasted if he started to backslide right now.

  But if I was honest with myself, I was more worried about him on a personal level than I was about what would be lost financially if he slipped.

  I gave him instructions to enter through the garage that sat below my big house. There was no guarantee that the lingering paparazzi wouldn’t see him, but hopefully it was late enough and dark enough that it would be impossible to get a clear picture of Salinger showing up at my place in the middle of the night.

  There was a knock on the interior door leading to the garage, and I moved quickly down the stairs to let him in. I’d given him the code to punch into the garage, but I wasn’t reckless enough to hand over one that would allow him access to my actual home. I felt that if I allowed him free reign, it would be impossible to get rid of him. And rather than feel suffocated by the thought of Salinger all up in my personal space, I rather liked the idea of bumping into him every time I turned around. He was warm and big, and always kind of hyper and excitable. It was like having an overgrown puppy constantly looking for attention. But occasionally, his dark eyes flashed with something dangerous, and he let slip the kind of scathing sarcasm that could easily deflate an ego, and I was reminded that even puppies had teeth and knew how to bite.

  I pulled the door open and let out a small gasp of surprise. There was a tall shadow looming on the other side. Salinger was dressed head to toe in black. He had on a ball cap, and it was pulled low on his forehead, obstructing his face. He was wearing an oversized hoodie with the hood pulled up over the hat, further making him an indistinguishable shadow against the others in the garage.

  I waved a hand hurriedly and pulled the door open wider for him to step inside. “Get in here. You look like you’re about to rob the place. Let’s hope the neighbors didn’t call the cops if they saw you lurking around.” I was only
joking, but he stiffened and didn’t move from his position on the other side of the threshold. Frowning, I crooked a finger at him. “What are you doing? Get in here.”

  “Before you let me in, there are a couple things you should know.” His deep voice rumbled with a kind of warning that was hard to ignore. I lifted my eyebrows at him and motioned for him to continue. “If you let me inside right now, I’m going to kiss you. I’m going to touch you. I’m going to do everything in my power to convince you that it’s a good idea to fuck me and to let me fuck you. I don’t want to talk. I didn’t drive all the way down here in the middle of the night for conversation. So, it’s okay if you want to send me back home. It’s all right to turn me away. You said all men do is lie, and I want to prove you wrong. The truth is, I want to have sex with you. That’s why I’m here.” He lifted his head slightly so I could see his eyes under the brim of his hat. “If you want full honesty, I’ve wanted to sleep with you for a long time. You were my first crush back when I was a horny teenager. You were the person I thought of the entire time I was trying to get clean, locked away from the rest of the world. When I got sober, one of the first things to cross my mind was looking you up and seeing how you were and asking if there was any way you could forgive me. I’m not a kid anymore, and the way I want you is very, very adult.”

  I wasn’t expecting him to throw down the gauntlet without any warning.

  Only an idiot would miss the fact that we’d both been tiptoeing along a very thin line between tentative friendship and something more. I’d been better at keeping my balance than he had. He leaned over to the ‘something more’ side more often, and definitely more deliberately than I did. But I swayed, and I wavered. It did something to my insides when he told me he’d been thinking about me when his life was at its lowest point, because I’d also thought of him when I was struggling. There was a slight bit of comfort in knowing we’d suffered in similar ways. Pain was easier to make sense of when you realized you shared it with someone and you weren’t alone in your anguish.

 

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