by Peak, Renna
It was one of those stupid celebrity rags, the magazines they sell at the checkout line at the grocery store. The main reason I didn’t want Jen anywhere near a grocery store, since half the time her photo or one of her father was gracing the cover. This one was opened about midway, the side of the magazine folded back on itself.
I saw the problem as soon as I picked it up. Her ring, the one I had given to her, to Jen, to the love of my life, was on another woman’s finger.
Christ, I thought that had been a bad dream. A nightmare. But there it was on the glossy pages of that magazine. No wonder she had been so upset. But it was nothing, nothing we couldn’t get past.
Something much more difficult to get past walked in my door. Someone.
“You know, Brandon, Baltimore is a lot farther away from Vegas than L.A. You’re making my life pretty difficult.”
If I could have moved more than half an inch, I would have run. I wished, desperately wished that this was a hallucination. A bad reaction to medication. Anything but the reality that stood before me. But I knew it wasn’t—it was so much worse. It was a nightmare.
She was my nightmare. And she had driven Jen away for good this time.
Broken #2
The MISTAKEN Series - Part Eight
1
I wasn’t sure how long I had been sitting on the swing, just rocking back and forth, when I saw the chipmunk from the corner of my eye. I watched as he ran up the tree, the one that was taller than the roof of my parents’ four-story home. The same tree that was just outside the window of the bedroom where I had grown up. It dawned on me in that moment that the chipmunk I had just seen was probably related to all the others that I had watched over the years. He was almost certainly a distant relation of the same creatures that I used to watch from my bedroom window as a child.
Nothing had really changed about the house. The swing set was still in the backyard—the same one I had played on growing up. Not that I had spent much time on it, but the familiarity was comforting.
Inside, some of the furniture had changed, but it was almost all the same, too. My mother’s antiques, the grand piano in the formal living room. All the same. It would have been nice to have them there—my parents, at least one of them. The house was too big to be in alone, but according to everyone concerned, it was the safest place I could be. That wasn’t much of a surprise, considering how huge the estate was, how far it was from the gated driveway back to the house. The security there was about as good as money could buy, and God knew, my parents had spent it to protect themselves and their little girl. Well, my father’s little girl.
I sat there on the swing for a little while longer, almost wishing that I could just erase the past few months. If I had never met Brandon, never had that one night stand that had turned into so much more… I knew I couldn’t erase it—didn’t really want to erase it, either. I loved him, and that was the worst part about this entire nightmare. If I had just never let myself fall…
I stood up from the swing and made my way back to the house. A drew in a long breath of the late summer breeze that had started to blow, a sure sign that fall was on its way. The fragrant air brought back memories of… not better times. Just the past. I had been so certain that I wanted to run from this life—a life of privilege, that it was almost painful to be back in it. But they were all so sure that there was nowhere else for me to be, nowhere safer. This life was almost a prison of its own.
I made my way to the formal living room on the other side of the house. It was a beautiful room, and had always been one of my favorites. Not just because of the grand piano that sat in the corner, but because of the furniture that my mother’s family had collected since the Revolutionary War. It had always felt like a connection to my family, to my history. Now that the Hennesseys weren’t my family, the room had lost much of its charm for me. Any real connection I had to that family was gone the moment I found out that I wasn’t related to the woman who had raised me.
I slid behind the piano and began to play. It was one of the only things I had done in the past two weeks—there was the swing outside and the piano. Playing wasn’t bringing me the joy it once had, but it was a convenient way to keep from having to think.
My mind filled with the music and pushed away the questions about everything else that had happened that I still didn’t understand. Why Daniel had kidnapped me. Why Brandon was lying in a hospital bed. How in the hell he was engaged to Robin. I supposed that Brandon wasn’t the only one lucky to be alive. I still had no idea how I had even come to be on the east coast. The last memory I had of the night Daniel kidnapped me was of talking to him in that godforsaken bar that Melissa had dragged me to that evening. Everything else was blackness, like it was erased or wiped away. The next thing I remembered was sitting in the back of a sedan with a blood-soaked Brandon in my lap. I couldn’t remember getting into the car or how or what happened to get us to Baltimore in the first place. And I hadn’t been back to the hospital to ask him. I didn’t want to risk bumping into his new fiancée, no matter how much I needed answers.
I must have been there playing and trying to ignore the myriad questions that filled my brain because the room was nearly dark when I felt someone slide onto the bench next to me. Tears stung behind my eyes when I smelled his cologne. I hadn’t spoken to him in over a month, not since the night of that party—the night my life changed forever.
“That was beautiful, Jenna. What was it?”
I shrugged, not that he could have seen me. “I don’t know. I wasn’t listening.”
He chuckled. “Mind if I turn on a light?”
He must have sensed my shrug because a light on the side table illuminated a moment later. I looked over at him and watched as he sat down next to me again, facing away from the piano. He looked tired, the skin under his eyes a shade or two too dark. His hair looked a little more silver, too, as though the past weeks had taken their toll. “How are you, dad?”
He looked down at me, giving me a weak smile. “I’ve been better, kid. So have you.”
I nodded and looked down at the piano keys. “You look tired.”
“So do you. When was the last time you slept?”
I shrugged again. “I get to sleep just fine. It’s the staying asleep part that’s hard.”
He nodded. “You should see someone. I’ll have Krystal makes some calls…”
I interrupted. “I’m fine. I don’t need to see anyone.”
“Jenna, it’s not an admission of weakness to admit you need help.”
“Fine.” It was easier to just not argue, since I knew I wouldn’t win. I looked up at him to see him staring blankly at the wall. “How’s mom?”
His face flinched and I knew whatever he told me wouldn’t be the truth. “She’s doing well. She’s just doing her usual summer stay in Maine.”
Sure she was. After he had humiliated her and she had humiliated herself. After she had brought herself to his level to reveal his indiscretions—namely the fact that I wasn’t her daughter, a secret she had kept for almost twenty-four years. “That’s good.” I knew it wasn’t good, and I also knew he probably hadn’t even spoken to her since the whole incident had happened last month.
He nodded and continued staring across the room. “He’ll be dealt with.”
“Who?” I raised an eyebrow and tried to get him to make eye contact with me.
“Daniel Sato. I will deal with him.” He finally turned to me. “I’m sorry, Jenna.”
I shook my head. “I don’t even know what he did. Or why.” I paused for a moment. “Do you?”
He turned back to the wall. “Desperate men do desperate things.”
“That doesn’t make any sense. It’s been over a year. And he…”
He interrupted. “It doesn’t have as much to do with you as you might think, Jenna. He knows that you’re a powerful bargaining chip.”
My jaw dropped open and I could feel my heart racing in my chest. I hadn’t even considered that what
he had done might not have been to hurt me. That it might have been to hurt my father. “For what? What is this even all about? Why am I in the middle of it?”
He turned back to me and tilted his head. It almost looked like he pitied me. “It’s complicated, Jenna. More complicated than we need to discuss right now.”
My fingernails dug into my palms as my hands balled into fists and my stomach felt as hard as a rock. I wasn’t sure if I what I felt was more fear or anger at that point. “I think, maybe… maybe I should have gone to the police. Maybe I should have filed a report.” If nothing else, I knew my words would frustrate him. Perhaps get him to talk to me.
He shook his head. “Jenna, this is a private matter. You know that. The red tape with the diplomatic immunity alone…”
“He’s dead. Did you forget about that part of the story? That he died? Or that you helped him fake his death? And he’s an American citizen, so there’s no diplomatic immunity.”
He turned back to me, his eyes narrowed. The look on his face told me that this was no small matter. Of course he knew all that. The fact that he did know was probably a bigger problem than anything else. I had no idea what any of it meant—how his part in this fiasco might hurt him. “Jenna, I trust that you’ve been around this business long enough to understand that this situation will remain between the two of us and will not ever leave this room. Are we clear?”
I gulped at the dry lump in the back of my throat and nodded. My father wouldn’t be the person who gave me any straight answers about anything—I already knew that. I just couldn’t help but think that maybe—just maybe, he would be willing to be open with me just once. Honest for the first time. I also knew it was nothing more than a dream—another fantasy that would never become reality. My parents lived in a different world than everyone else, and I was all too aware of it. Honesty and openness was not on the menu in that world. If I wanted answers, I knew I would have to find them myself.
He looked over at me with a look in his eyes that screamed disappointment. I knew he hated when I questioned him in any way. “We need to discuss your future.”
“My future.” My meek response reminded me of just how far I hadn’t come. It had only been seven months since I’d left home, since I’d graduated from business school. It amazed me that a look of disappointment from my father could still bring me to my knees. I was twenty-four, but I may as well have been four. My heart raced in my chest again. As much as I wanted to please my father—both of my parents, really, I knew I wasn’t going to move back home. I knew I couldn’t allow myself back into this world. Even if the life I had led in San Francisco was over, I knew I didn’t want to come back to this one.
“The way I see it, you have two options.” The tone in his voice left no question that I was not going to have a say in this discussion.
My response squeaked out. “Two options?”
“Your mother and I have been disappointed with the choices you’ve made since you’ve left home, Jenna. We’re giving you two choices because you’re an adult and should have some say in the direction you go next.”
My eyes narrowed and I turned to him. “Some say? Dad, I know I’ve made some mistakes, but I think I’ll be the one choosing what I do with my life.”
“You chose to become involved with a man that is dead set on destroying me. Did you consider that? Have you even considered that he might be using you to get to me?”
I shook my head. “He’s not. He didn’t know. He’s… growing.”
“Jenna, that may be the most immature thing that I have ever heard you say. Do you even hear yourself?”
My eyes narrowed even further. “I think I can decide who I choose to spend my time with…”
His snort cut me off. “You honestly think he’s changed? You think he’s dropped this little vendetta he’s been on his entire life? You’ve known him for what, three months?”
“Almost five.” The voice that came from my throat sounded almost like a mouse, so high-pitched and squeaky that I didn’t even recognize it.
“And how long have you known me? What have I done that would make you suddenly believe some… some stranger? What has he done to make you trust him more than you trust me? Can you answer that for me, Jenna?”
The squeak from my voice was gone. “He saved my life.” Whatever Brandon was, whatever he had done in his past, however much he had hurt me—I knew I could trust him. Something in me just knew, even though I knew it didn’t make sense to anyone else looking at my life from the outside. He had saved my life. And not just from whatever it was that Daniel had tried to do to me, he had rescued me from a life controlled by the man sitting next to me. Even if I never saw Brandon again, I knew that I would never come back to this life—a life that wasn’t really mine at all.
2
“I would question that.”
I looked up at him. I knew I wouldn’t be able to convince him that Brandon had saved me from Daniel, and I knew that he would never believe that my life was better for having known him. I wasn’t about to waste my breath, trying to convince my father that he was wrong about Brandon.
I searched his eyes and couldn’t read him at all. I don’t think I had ever been able to read my father. “What are my options?”
He let out a long sigh and a hint of a smile crossed his face. He looked relieved that I wasn’t pushing the issue. That I hadn’t tried to convince him that he was wrong. “Your mother and I have discussed it at some length.”
“So you have talked to her?”
His head cocked to the side. “Email. Option one: you stay here. This is arguably the safest place for you for the time being. We put some time between what’s happened and what you do next. There are any number of things you can do here. Your mother is on the board of at least a half dozen charities, and any of them would be happy to have you working for them. Or we can see about getting you on with a lobbying firm.” The hint of a grin turned into a full smile. “Considering you already know so many politicians, any of the lobbying firms would be happy to take you on. I know you like talking to people, so that might be your best option. Get you out there and get you ready to run for office sometime yourself.”
He really didn’t know me at all. I liked talking to people? Since when? I liked talking to kids. I liked playing the piano. I hated meeting new people, hated crowds and pretty much had come to detest everything about politics, especially in the past few months. “What’s option two?”
He reached over for the briefcase he had set on the floor next to the piano bench. He pulled out a handful of brochures and put them in my hand. He let out another long sigh and the smile fell from his face. “Amsterdam seems like a good option. The Vienna school is the best of the three, but unlikely considering your alma mater. Warsaw is the other possibility.”
“Warsaw?” I looked down at the glossy papers in my hands. They were advertisements for music schools, all in Europe. “What’s wrong with San Francisco?”
He shook his head. “We don’t want you going back.”
I set the brochures on the music stand on top of the piano and turned back to face him. I tried not to let him see my shaking hands. “I think I’m probably too old to go back to music school.” I shrugged. “I’m not sure I want to do it, anyway.”
“Jenna, we both know that neither of those statements is true. We’re talking about graduate programs in music. Your mother knows someone who knows someone at the school in Poland. We could probably get you in next month. Of course, we’d set up a secure place for you to live, arrange for personal security, make sure the school is secure…”
“I just want to be normal. I don’t want Cade following me around school or sleeping in my apartment.” I shook my head and took in a deep breath, trying to calm the heaviness I felt in my chest. “I don’t want any of that.”
He closed his eyes and let out a sigh of exasperation. “It’s the life that chose you. You don’t get to choose not to have it.” He paused for a moment and opened hi
s eyes to look at me again. “Which of those options appeals to you more? Of course, each appeals to me on a different level. I think you’d be happiest going to one of the conservatories…”
“I don’t know. Neither, I think.” I stood up and looked down at the floor. My stomach ached and I just felt like I wanted to flee, to be anywhere but in the same room with my father. “I think if I decide to go to school, I’ll do it on my own merits and not because Marian knows someone who knows someone.”
“Jenna, don’t be silly. That’s how the world works. There are advantages to knowing people—you grew up knowing that, so I’m not sure what the difference is now.”
“The difference now is I’ve had a taste of living on my own. And that’s what I want to do.” I felt tears sting at my eyes. It might have been the first time I had ever stood up to him. “I’m going back to San Francisco. As soon as I get the call from Krystal that I don’t need to stick around…”
“He gets out of the hospital tomorrow. We can have you on a plane to Warsaw in the morning…”
My heart thudded in my chest. He was going to be okay? It was all I had hoped to hear in those past few weeks. A huge wave of relief washed over me before my heart dropped. I was so happy he would live, that he didn’t need my kidney to survive. But I also knew that my relationship with him was over and that realization made my chest hurt and made my eyes burn with fresh, hot tears. It was over. The whole horrible mess that had brought me back into my parents’ house was over and I could go home.
I blinked my tears away. I didn’t want to have to explain my emotional response to the news that Brandon was healthy. I didn’t know if I could even explain it to myself. “I’m going home. To my apartment. In San Francisco.”