Keeping Her

by Allie Everhart

  "Hello to you too, Jack."

  "Today at noon. My house. Be there, or I'll kill you before your father does." And then he slams the phone down.

  This morning is going downhill fast. And I'm sure it's only going to get worse.

  I go to the meeting, hoping it'll let my mind rest for a moment. It's a marketing meeting and I'm really just here to listen rather than participate. Marshall is going over things with the sales team and it's things I've already heard before, but he wanted me here to back him up on some decisions we made since the sales team can be rather stubborn and unreasonable.

  The meeting ends an hour later, and although I know I said a few things, I don't even remember what I said. My mind is far too distracted to be here today. I return to my office and my phone rings. The office phone this time.

  I pick it up. "This is Pearce."

  "Pearce, this is your mother. I need to know what time you'll be here on Thursday."

  This must be some kind of joke. She can't possibly think I would show up at her house for Thanksgiving.

  "Pearce. Answer me. I don't have all day."

  "Mother, given what has transpired the past few days, and more specifically last night, I assumed you knew I would not be there on Thursday."

  "It's Thanksgiving. Despite what's going on, our family must be together for Thanksgiving dinner."

  "And Father is okay with this?"

  "Your Father has no say in it. You know he has no interest in holidays, which is why he puts me in charge of them, and that includes making the guest list."

  "And does this guest list include Rachel?"

  "The guest list is the same as it was last year and the year before." By that, she means her, my father, and me. Nobody else. "Now what time will you be here?"

  "I'm sorry, Mother, but I already made plans. I will be unable to attend this year."

  "Pearce! You will NOT miss Thanksgiving."

  "Yes, Mother, I will. And I will likely miss Christmas as well. But I hope both you and Father enjoy the holidays. Goodbye, Mother."

  She hangs up without saying goodbye. I tried to politely decline her offer, but it was difficult to do when she excluded Rachel like that. So I did my best to stay calm and get off the phone before our conversation escalated into a full blown fight.

  I scan the paperwork on my desk. I can't concentrate long enough to work on any of it. I might as well leave and go home and start packing for the trip tomorrow. But before I go, I need to tell my father I'll be gone. I could just not tell him, but why make things worse than they already are?

  His office door is closed so I knock, which I normally don't do.

  "Father, may I come in?"

  I think I heard a 'yes' so I go in, closing the door behind me. He's sitting at his desk. I take the seat across from him.

  "What do you need?" He's displaying his power pose, in which he rests his elbows on the table and clasps his hands together forming a pyramid shape. He lowers his head slightly, so that it's just above his locked hands, and peers across the desk at me.

  "I wanted to let you know that I'm leaving early today and will not be in the office the rest of the week."

  "Is that so?" He's much calmer than last night. But it's not a good calm. It's a frightening calm because it's not normal. He shouldn't be this calm.

  "I'm going out of town for the holiday," I tell him.

  "There's a meeting on Sunday."

  "Yes. I'm aware of the meeting and I will be there." I clear my throat. "Have you been given any indication of what might happen at this meeting?"

  "No." His lips curl up. "But I must say, I'm looking forward to it."

  He's looking forward to my punishment? Of course he is. He hates me.

  "I assume they'll harm me in some way, but as for Rachel, they'll leave her alone, correct?" I don't know why I asked that. Probably because I know my father has inside information he isn't sharing, but I know he would never tell me anything so I shouldn't have asked.

  "They typically don't harm a member's wife."

  "They know that I got married? Did you tell them?"

  "I had no choice. As members, we're required to report any and all information we learn about our fellow members. Did Jack not teach you that?"

  "I'm aware of the rule. And I assumed you would tell them."

  I wanted the organization to know I got married, so this isn't a problem. But I find it disturbing how quickly my father reported me. He has no desire to protect his son. He wants me to be punished as severely as possible.

  "So you're saying they won't harm her?" I ask, going back to my earlier question.

  "This isn't a typical situation. I don't know if they would harm the girl."

  I look him in the eye. "Would YOU?"

  He chuckles. "Pearce. Do you honestly think I would kill your wife?"

  I never said the word 'kill' so the fact that he came up with that himself is concerning. But I know he wouldn't do that. Although just hours ago I was worried he'd kill ME, his own son, when I thought about it later I realized I was overreacting. I was in such a state of panic having to tell my parents the news that I wasn't thinking straight.

  "Despite what you may think, I'm not a monster, Pearce." He grins, but just slightly.

  His words and the way he's looking at me is making me uneasy and anxious. I need to get out of this room. I rise from my chair. "I have to go. I'll see you at the meeting on Sunday."

  "After the meeting, you need to come into the office. You're way behind on your work and I expect you to be caught up by next week."

  "So you still want me working here?"

  "Why wouldn't I?"

  "I thought perhaps you'd fire me, given you're disapproval of my decision to marry Rachel."

  "I know how much you enjoy working here, son. I wouldn't take that away from you." The grin appears on his face again. "As I said, I'm not a monster. I'm your father. I only want what's best for you."

  I nod. "Yes. Well, goodbye."

  I hurry out of there. I stop by my office to get my coat, then head back to my loft. What the hell was that? Why was he acting that way? He didn't yell or scream or even punish me.

  He does this to me all the time and I hate it. He plays these mind games with me, leaving me wondering what he's up to. It's psychological warfare and he's an expert at it. As my father, he knows everything about me. My strengths. My weaknesses. And he uses that knowledge against me. I know he's not going to just let me get away with marrying Rachel. So what is he planning to do to get back at me?

  When I arrive home, I take out my suitcase and start packing some clothes. I pack my jeans and casual shirts because I'm sure people don't wear suits on a farm. But I do pack a suit for dinner on Thursday.

  As I'm packing my shoes, I hear someone on the intercom. It's George, the man who works at the security gate. "Mr. Kensington?"

  "Yes, George."

  "There's a Mr. Sinclair here to see you. Can I let him through?"

  "Yes. I'll meet him in the lobby."

  Royce must be back from Vegas. He really shouldn't stop by like this. It's too soon. We need to keep our distance from each other until we're sure nobody suspects he had a part in my elopement.

  When I get to the lobby, I find a different Sinclair. It's Arlin, Royce's father.

  "Pearce." He shakes my hand. "I'm sorry to stop over here like this. I called your office and they said you were here, but I wasn't able to reach you."

  "I must've missed your call. I just got home a few minutes ago. Come upstairs."

  We take the elevator up, and when we get to the loft, I take his coat. "Would you like a drink?"

  "No, thank you. I'm fine." He sits on the couch. "I came by to ask if you've heard anything from Royce."

  I sit in the chair next to the couch. "Not since Sunday."

  "Grace and I haven't heard from him either and we're starting to get worried."

  Unlike my parents, Royce's parents actually care about him. Grace and Arlin have
been friends with my parents for years, but they are not at all alike. Arlin owns and runs one of the world's largest pharmaceutical companies, but he's very down to earth. He doesn't look down on people without money the way my parents do. And he's very supportive of his sons. His wife, Grace, is as well. Grace is one of those caring, nurturing types of mothers that I longed to have when I was a child.

  Royce doesn't realize how fortunate he is to have such good parents. He doesn't treat them well, which has always irritated me. Back when we were in college, his parents would come visit him on a weekend and he'd spend it passed out in some girl's room, not even caring his parents were there to see him. Or they'd stop by during the week to take him to dinner and he'd be drunk when they arrived. Sometimes I'd go to dinner with Grace and Arlin if Royce was too drunk to go. One time I remember sitting at a restaurant with them, wishing I could trade places with Royce. I'd gladly give him my parents in exchange for his.

  "Royce is probably still in Vegas," I say to Arlin.

  "He is, but I don't know where. I received a call late last night from a woman who I believe is a prostitute, saying that Royce owed her money. If that's true, he could be in serious trouble."

  Vegas is not a place you want to owe people money. This prostitute likely has a boss, and that boss could be connected to the mob or some other crime ring. And you don't want to mess with those people.

  "I'm sorry, Arlin, but I don't know what to tell you. I haven't seen Royce since Saturday. I talked to him on Sunday, but just briefly."

  He sighs and shakes his head. "I don't know what to do with that boy. His brother is such a responsible young man, and yet Royce is the complete opposite. Grace and I didn't raise the boys any differently, so I don't understand how Royce turned out the way he did. We were hoping you'd rub off on him when you two went to college together."

  "Arlin, I was no saint in college."

  "Nobody is. And we didn't expect Royce to be either. We just wanted him to grow up a little. To put some effort in so that he'd have a good future. Look at you, Pearce. You're a hard worker. Very mature and responsible. Extremely intelligent."

  Right there is an example of how Arlin is different than my father. My father would rather be burned alive than give me a compliment, yet Arlin just gave me several.

  He continues. "If Holton retired today, you could step in as CEO and succeed at the job. If I retired, Royce would have no clue how to run the company, despite having a business degree from an Ivy League college. I'm not trying to put down my son. I'm just concerned that he'll destroy his future if he continues to live like this."

  "Are you saying they might change their mind about making him a senator?"

  "No, that's still the plan. Although Grace and I are against it. The last thing Royce needs is to live the life of a politician. All that money and power. It's what he craves, but it's the opposite of what he needs. It's the wrong path for him. It will only make him continue the behaviors Grace and I are trying to get him to stop. The drinking. The drugs. The women. It all needs to end or he's going to destroy himself."

  "Maybe when he gets married, he'll settle down."

  "I have a feeling Victoria will only make it worse. She sees Royce as her ticket to fame and she'll do whatever it takes to get him to the top. There couldn't be a worse match than the two of them. They'll feed off each other's need for power and end up in a very bad place." He stands up. "I should go. I'm going to have to fly to Vegas and deal with this myself."

  As he says it, his cell phone rings. His regular phone, not the phone from the organization. He answers it, and as he listens, his expression turns dark. "Yes. I'll take care of it. Thank you."

  He ends the call and puts his phone away. "That was the hospital in Las Vegas. Royce was found passed out in a hotel room on the strip. They said he had a cocktail of drugs in his system."

  "Is he okay?"

  "Yes. I'll fly out there and make sure he gets home." He sighs. "His mother's been worried sick and this will upset her even more. Royce could've killed himself."

  "Arlin, I'm sorry. I should've insisted Royce come back with me. I shouldn't have left him there."

  "It's not your responsibility to take care of him." He smiles. "By the way, I should've congratulated you. I hear you're a newlywed."

  "Yes."

  He notices the worry in my tone and puts his hand on my shoulder. "You didn't break any rules, Pearce."

  "My father would disagree. And so would the other members."

  "You obviously really love this girl if you're willing to put yourself at risk like this."

  "I do. She means everything to me."

  "Then fight for her. Fight for your marriage. Don't let them intimidate you."

  "They're going to punish me. There's a meeting on Sunday."

  "Yes. I received the notice."

  "They're going to ask me questions. Make me explain why I did this. I don't know what to say that will make them back down and leave Rachel and me alone."

  "You'll figure something out." He squeezes my shoulder. "You're smart, Pearce. Much smarter than them. Use that to your advantage." He walks over and takes his coat from the chair where I left it. "I'll see you on Sunday."

  "Yes. Goodbye, Arlin."

  He waits for the elevator to open, and when it does, Rachel is there.

  "Oh, hello." She smiles at him as she steps off the elevator.

  "Hello." Arlin shakes her hand. "You must be Rachel."

  "Yes. And you are?"

  "Arlin Sinclair."

  "Sinclair. Are you related to Royce?"

  He nods. "Yes. I'm his father."

  "Well, it's a pleasure meeting you."

  "You as well." He looks at me. "Goodbye, Pearce." He gives me a wink, signaling his approval of Rachel.

  If only Arlin were my father. He'd support me and my marriage to Rachel and do everything in his power to limit my punishment from the other members. Royce has no idea how lucky he is. If it were me in a hospital room in Vegas, my father would never come get me. He'd leave me there, then punish me later for being so irresponsible.

  When Arlin is gone, Rachel hugs me. "What are you doing home?"

  "I decided to take the rest of the day off, although I do have to go in for a meeting at noon."

  "So your father didn't fire you." She kisses me. "I knew he wouldn't. He's not going to fire his own son."

  "He would, and he still might."

  "Did you talk to him?" She takes me to the couch to sit down.

  "Yes. And he demanded I come into the office on Sunday and catch up on work. I told him I would since I'm taking the rest of this week off. I'm going to change my return flight and come home Saturday night. But I want you to stay in Indiana. You don't need to come back early."

  "Are you sure? I feel like we should fly back together."

  "If you're not going home for Christmas, then you should spend time with your parents."

  "Yeah, you're right." She gets up and goes into the kitchen. "The museum decided to close at noon today so I won't be going into work later. But I do have class at two."

  "I'm surprised you came all the way back here. I thought you were going to go to your apartment between classes."

  "I was, but…"

  I turn and see her pouring herself some water. "What is it, Rachel?"

  "Promise you won't overreact?"

  I go to the kitchen and stand next to her. "Tell me."

  "I went to my apartment and when I got out of my car, these two men came up to me and started taking photos. They got really close and it scared me so I got back in the car and drove here."

  "Shit." I pull her into my arms. "Did they hurt you?"

  "No. I just banged my elbow when I was trying to get in the car."

  "Which arm?"

  "The right one, but Pearce it's fine."

  I take her arm and check her elbow and see a small bruise there. "You're hurt."

  She takes her arm back. "It's just a bruise."

  "H
ave you seen these men before?"

  "No. They were probably in their mid-thirties, dressed in jeans and sweatshirts, and they both had very expensive cameras. Why would they be taking pictures of me?"

  I sigh. "Someone from a magazine or newspaper sent them to get photos of you. Either that, or those men are paparazzi who know they can get a lot of money for the photos. We need to get professional photos taken of you and send them to the media. Actually, we should get one of the two of us. An engagement photo."

  "Pearce, this is getting out of hand. It was just supposed to be an engagement announcement. Nothing more."

  "It's going to be a lot more than that."

  "How do you know?"

  "I just have a feeling that it will be. That announcement is generating more press than I thought it would."

  I knew the fallout from our elopement would be bad, but not this bad. Now we not only have my father to deal with, and the organization, but we also have the media. I assumed the media would be interested in us, but I didn't think photographers would be following Rachel around.

  I've put Rachel in danger. Danger from the organization, and now the media.

  What the hell have I done?

  CHAPTER FIVE

  5

  PEARCE

  At noon, I arrive at Jack's house, preparing for yet another lecture. It starts as soon as he opens the door.

  "Well, well, look who's here. It's Mr. Fly Off to Vegas and Do Whatever the Fuck I Want." He turns and walks off. "Good to see you again."

  I come inside and shut the door. "Are you going to wait for me?"

  He doesn't answer. He just keeps walking down the hall. He's barefoot and wearing baggy white pants that are rolled up to his knees. His top half is covered in a loose white shirt with the sleeves rolled up. The shirt hangs long and drapes over his hips. And he has a piece of white fabric tied around his forehead. As usual, I have no idea what he's up to.

  I follow him into a room I've never been in before. The lights are off, but there are candles lit all around it. The burning flames make me cough.

  "Quiet!" a voice says. I look to my side and see a man sitting on the floor. He's dressed just like Jack. "This is a room of silence!"

  I find it ironic he's saying that and yelling at me at the same time.