“With Jenkins they brought in even more revenue together and he got a share of that. They thought Jenkins was the same kind of broker they were.
“Because of that one simple mistake—trusting Jenkins—he lost all of his money later. Jenkins told the police Dad was working dirty, stealing money from his company, and it was either get sued for everything he had or go to jail. Fortunately, Stratford never found out what the true cause was when Dad had to file for bankruptcy. It was a private case but only because Jenkins agreed to keep it in the court and not destroy the Clark and Stratford name anymore than he had. To Stratford it just looked like the company was losing its associated companies and assets.”
“Oh my God,” she gasps. “So… so… what did you do to the Boyd guy?” Jackie asks.
“I… tried to do the same thing Jenkins did to Dad, but instead of trying to catch him doing dirty work, I was going to make him sign a contract.”
She narrows her eyes, but I defend myself quickly.
“Jackie, you don’t know what it was like. Yes, you lost Dad too, but we were with him more. We saw him dwindle. We saw him losing his shit. We were in that hospital room after he had that heart attack, hoping he would pull through. He did okay for about two hours, and fifteen minutes out of those two hours he talked to me personally. And he told me exactly what he wanted me to do.
“And what was that?” she inquires.
“He wanted me to get Jenkins back however I could. He wanted me to handle it, bring Stratford and Clark back on top. He made me promise him… and that’s what I did. I promised I would do whatever it took to make that happen.”
Jackie stares at me, and I am expecting an incredulous look, but that is not what I am given.
Is she shocked? Yes. Of course. There are probably a million questions running through her head, but on her face, she wears a mask of contentment.
She understands, but she doesn’t want to understand it. She’s too good to even consider understanding, but because of our bond, she will.
“Wow, Ang,” she breathes. “I don’t even know what to say right now. That is a lot to take in.”
“Jackie… I love this job, don’t you see? I love it more than Scott loves it. I love it—probably more than Dad did. Dirty things happen in order to win. Jenkins, the lying, greedy bastard wins because he is dirty. He cheats. He lies. He manipulates. He steals what people work their whole lives for. We thought, hey, if he can do it, so can we.
“And no, it’s not to everyone. Only the people that are connected to him. We’ve been doing the digging. Griffin Boyd has been with Jenkins for over six years. He is Jenkins’ breadwinner. He brings in the money. Scott and I can’t figure out how Jenkins got Griffin, but apparently he knew Griffin would be a great asset later.
“At first I figured we could partner with him to get closer to Jenkins, see what we could do to bring him down. But then Scott got an idea that we could work with Boyd, win him over, and manipulate him. Get him to trust us. To rely on us. And he did every single one of those things… but only with me.”
“So you slept your way to his heart?”
“No. Are you kidding? He doesn’t love me and I don’t love him. I simply slept my way to taking Jenkins down.”
She blows a breath. And the waiter returns, saving me by the bell. Jackie orders the appetizer and we ask for a few more minutes before ordering entrees. When he’s long gone, out of earshot, I meet her eyes again.
“Don’t think ugly of me for this, Jack. I know you hate stuff like this, but I did this for a reason. You know I’m not like that. I’m not dirty or cruel. He—he found out. And as it all went down, as I got to know him, I felt so awful. I felt disgusting and wrong. I knew it was wrong from the start, but all I could think was how I wanted to keep my promise to Dad. I have never wanted to let Dad down, and even as he’s buried six feet under, I still want to keep that promise. Not only that,” I say, grabbing one of her hands and clutching it, “but I also did it for you.”
“For me?” She frowns.
“Yes. David… he told me about the bills. How he’s backed up in paying off some debts. You guys need help… and I don’t want the treatments to stop for you.”
“Oh, come on, Ang. I love you, and I appreciate all you have done for me so far, but you can’t use me as an excuse.” She waves a hand. “And besides, I hate the treatments. They only make me sicker. I feel better without them… most times.”
“You are not an excuse for me. I love you, Jack. I can’t have you leaving me sooner because you can’t pay for your treatments. Look, don’t worry about any of that, okay? I was late getting here because I was with my lawyer, who created a new contract for me. One where Griffin is giving me the opportunity to partner with him for the next two years. The contract can either be renewed or declined after that and he has the right to revoke it, but as long as I stick with him, I don’t think he will.”
“Stick with him? What do you mean by that?”
I release her hand, sipping at my water before responding. “I… had to promise him one thing. Something I’ve honestly never promised to anyone before and I still don’t know how I’m going to keep it.”
“Well, what is it?” she urges.
“I… um… well, he told me that I can’t share my body with anyone else while the contract is in effect. I can’t sleep with any other man but him. I’m… all his. He… kind of owns me. And I don’t know how I feel about that exactly. He’s a great guy—fucking wonderful in bed—but even so, he… has his faults. His issues, and handing myself over to someone that is so… unstable right now. I… I just don’t know.”
“You don’t know what?”
“I don’t know what to expect from him. Hell, he doesn’t even trust me 100% anymore. I have to regain that, and with a guy like him it’s going to take a while for that to happen.”
“But you are good at keeping your promises. You have always kept your word with me. If you’re attracted to him it shouldn’t be so bad. Yes, it’s huge and this could be temporary, but if you’re saying you need this, why hesitate? You wrote the contract, made it better. You’ll be getting the money you need and all. What’s the problem with that?”
“There are still complications. Interferences. Things about him personally that… I’m not very fond of.”
She frowns. “Well other than that Jenkins issue that seems to be solved now, what the hell else could there be that’s making you so unsure about Boyd?”
I press my lips, slowly dropping my gaze as my fingers clutch the cool glass in front of me. “He’s married, Jack. I keep my promises, I always do, but as of now, I am Griffin Boyd’s mistress, and the thought of that makes my stomach churn.
“I guess that’s what makes me unsure. Because I could do better… but just like him, I know I’m not going anywhere. And I know, deep down, that no matter how much I try to avoid him, I won’t be able to deny or resist him when we are together. That, sis, is what terrifies me.”
Chapter Eight
Colette
I feel so liberated.
Even more so after booking a hotel and sleeping so peacefully I felt like I was on a cloud. After I awoke, I ate some breakfast and then went out to buy a 1-piece swimsuit, a large, pink beach towel, and then bathed my skin with sunlight.
I feel somewhat relaxed after today. A win for a win.
Unfortunately, I still have to face Griffin, but now that I have things set in motion, I won’t feel so annoyed. It will all be over soon. I just have to deal with him for a few more months and it’s over.
I arrive home a little after midnight. When I walk into the house, all of the lights are on.
I shake my head as I casually shut them off, dropping my keys on the counter and sauntering down the hallway.
As I walk up the stairs, I hear Griffin’s deep voice booming, his frustrations clear. I stop just as the door, listening intently.
“No, I need her to be home, Beth. Don’t give me that bullshit. You can’t e
ven be disappointed in me. You of all people should know exactly how she is.” I smile smugly and he sighs. “Has she left already? Well how long has she been gone!?”
I step back, smiling ahead. He’s concerned. This is good. Maybe I’ve won him back in my own little devious way.
Who was he kidding? Griffin can’t go a damn day without talking to me. Not because he feels he owes me or anything, but because it’s been this way for years.
I was all he had at one point… but of course things changed down the road.
I tiptoe down the hallway, turning left to get into my study. I shut the door behind me quietly so he can’t hear and since I have so much inspiration—so much to work with—I paint.
Quietly but swiftly.
And I swear this is my best yet.
There is color. There is life.
For once it’s not so dull, not so black and white.
I don’t even realize I’ve been at it for so long until I hear a long, heavy sigh go past my door and check my cellphone. It’s three in the morning. Is he seriously still worried about me?
I grin, a shit-eating grin, and drop my paintbrush, considering it enough for the night. I go for the door, swinging it open slowly so that it can creak and he can hear me. As I make it out to the hallway and look down, I spot Griffin about to go into his office.
He pauses on twisting the doorknob, face full of shock.
Smirking, I trot towards the bedroom, but not without the sound of his heavy footsteps chasing after me.
“Colette,” he says as he makes it into the bedroom.
I glance back.
His eyebrows are raised, his annoyance on display. “Where the hell have you been?” he asks.
“Around,” I say.
He frowns, and I take off my shirt, tossing it on the floor and heading towards the bathroom.
“Well how long have you been here? How long were you in your study?”
“A while.”
He rushes around me, gripping my shoulders before I can get into the bathroom. “Can you just stop beating around the bush? I’ve been worried sick about you, Colette. Where the hell have you been?”
“Around, Griffin. Why does it matter to you anyway?”
“Because you’re my fucking wife,” he growls, clearly irritated with my question.
“Am I?” I press my lips, looking him over and then shrugging before dipping beneath his arm and entering the bathroom.
I unbutton my jeans, unzip them, and then I go for the shower, twisting the nobs to start the running water.
When I look back, Griffin is staring me right in the eyes, his forehead creased.
“Are you joining me or…?” I leave the question up in the air, allowing him to weigh his options.
He shakes his head. “You are fucking ridiculous, Colette. Seriously.”
“I guess you see how it feels now.”
“What are you talking about? he spits.
“Letting a shower be the reason we can’t talk things through. Discuss things like mature adults.”
He groans, twisting around as I pull the glass door open and step beneath the stream. Before the fog can cause an opaque view, I see him pacing the room, hands on his hips, muttering beneath his breath.
He’s probably wondering what all I told Beth. Or maybe he wonders if Beth has already told Dad. He should know I’m not that foolish. I won’t win anything in the end if my pig of a father finds out.
After I’m all washed up, all the paint colors off my skin, I slip into my robe and walk back to the bedroom.
Pulling my hair over one shoulder and sitting in front of the vanity, I grab my favorite bottle of lotion and run it over my skin.
Griffin is in bed now, quiet. He’s changed into some pajamas. Through the mirror I can see he is exhausted to no end. He’s been worried sick about me? How unfortunate of him.
I change into a silk gown and jump into bed, sighing as I rake my fingers through my damp tresses. All the while, Griffin is glaring at me, his anger radiating my way.
“You can’t avoid my questions forever, Colette.”
“I know.” I smile down at him and he watches my eyes, narrowing his in the process.
“You know what?”
“I know I can’t ignore you for long. But, honestly, there’s nothing to say.”
His eyes are still thin. “You aren’t upset about all of this? Because I’m fucking pissed. With Gabriel, Colette? Fucking Gabriel? What does he have that I don’t?”
I shrug one shoulder, lips pressing together. “Nothing really.” And then I grin.
“So why do it? I have never made you feel lonely. I have always been here for you. I have jumped hurdle after hurdle for you, Colette, and you go and give your body to Gabriel just like that? I fucked up, I know, but I never would have even considered it if you’d actually given me a chance at making you happy again.” He sighs. “I mean, I know we have had our problems, but you should discuss your issues with me. Not him.”
His face softens and sadness masks it. He looks me in the eyes, almost on the verge of tears, his head shaking, face full of disbelief.
Aw. I’ve hurt him. I’ve really done it now.
“It just happened.” I pull the comforter over my legs.
“Things don’t just happen. Not that way, Colette.”
“So you and Angelina?” I snap. “You two didn’t just ‘happen’?” I fold my arms tightly across my chest.
“No.” His head shakes, nostrils flaring as he finally looks away from me. “No, we didn’t just happen. She listened. She was there. She understood what was going on with me and she—”
My lips parts as each thing he says about her feels like a stomp on the chest. I thin my eyes at him, shaking my head with disbelief. “Wow,” I breathe. “You really like this girl, huh?”
He doesn’t respond, and really he doesn’t have to. I can see it. It’s written all over him. I should take it as a good sign that he’s using the past tense when in reference to her. Hopefully it means she’s in the past too.
I release a dry laugh, looking him over.
He meets my eyes, exhaling slowly.
“What was the shit with Beth? Why did you go to her? You know how she runs her mouth.”
“She won’t say anything about my visit.” Good thing he doesn’t know about her infertility problems.
“You told her about me,” he mutters.
“Yeah, but, I know things about her so she’s going to keep her lips sealed.”
He slightly rolls his eyes.
“Maybe when I find out what the gender of the baby is, we’ll talk more about us. We’ll have no choice, really.” I beam, and he straightens his back.
“There is no fucking baby, Colette.”
I wave an antagonizing finger. “Ah ah ah. Don’t be so sure, husband.”
His eye twitches, his upper lip as well.
“You only want this baby because you don’t want me fucking around with Angelina.”
“Not true,” I snap. Ugh. I hate when he says her name. “I thought about it. And I want this baby because I don’t need people questioning my fucking marriage. I don’t need my father up your ass or mine. I don’t need them wondering if we are still happy together. Hell, babies are always the cure for happiness in a marriage, right? Might as well make it happen again.”
“But you’re not even over what happened to Bradley. You clearly aren’t because you’ve been taking your anger out on me ever since it happened. I don’t know how many times I have to apologize to get you to believe me. I fucked up, okay? I really did. With my own flesh and blood! I live with that regret every fucking day. As soon as I wake up and as soon as I lay my head on these goddamn pillows. You don’t think his death affects me too?” His eyes welt with tears, but he snatches his gaze away so I can’t see.
The room is silent for quite some time, the air surrounding us so heavy and thick I can hardly breathe. I swallow the emotion he’s caused, looking away and flopping o
ver, shutting off my lamp.
I can’t do this. Not right now. I can’t talk about Bradley with him. It’ll be just like reliving that nightmare all over again.
Griffin blows a heavy breath and before I know it, he shuts his lamp off too, but before we can fall asleep, he says, “I’m sorry, Colette. I know it still hurts you because it hurts me too. I promised I would never hurt you, but… shit. I’m only human. I make mistakes, some bigger than others. I’m sorry. I don’t know what more I can say or do.” He pauses, the room still, quiet. “Just stop being angry with me, okay? Fucking forgive me already.” He pushes out of bed, blowing out a heavy sigh. “I’ll be sleeping in the guestroom.”
I watch him leave through the corner of my eye.
How can I forgive him?
I can’t forgive the man that is responsible for my son’s death—his own father at that. I have tried, trust me, I have. I have thought it all through, but the one thing I can’t understand is how? How did he get so caught up with work that he totally forgot about his own son?
That damn job of his always consumes him. It always takes him away from reality. I used to admire how hard he worked, how much effort he put into keeping the roof over our heads and food on the table—until that very day.
August 2nd.
I hate that day. It hurts too much to think about.
I can’t forgive him because the one time I needed him most, he let me down in the worst way possible. He let our baby boy drown.
I constantly deal with knowing water consumed Bradley’s lungs, how he couldn’t get out even if he’d tried. I ache deep inside because I wish it were me instead of him. I always wish it were me.
I wept for months on end because Bradley was my world, and within the blink of an eye, he was gone, almost as if I’d never carried him those trying nine months, or nursed him into the strong, healthy boy he was.
I knew my many tears and breakdowns were bothering Griffin back then, so they came to a halt around him. I bottled it all in, but that was a bad idea.
It backfired on our marriage. It caused me to despise everything about him and to blame him every second of my life from that moment on.
Sudden Flames (Sweet Promise #2) Page 6