Always Us (The Jade Series #8)

by Everhart, Allie

  “You better slow down,” I tell him. “I see a cop up ahead.”

  “Shit.” He taps the brakes. “Thanks.”

  “How’s school going?” I figure I should talk about more than just the car since Ryan and I don’t get to talk much.

  “It sucks. I’ve got really hard classes this year. Seems like I never stop studying. But at least the semester’s almost over.”

  “So what do you think of Karen?”

  “She’s great. She takes really good care of my dad. I can’t remember anything about my mom, but my dad said Karen’s like her in a lot of ways.” He merges into the left lane. “So how’s Jade doing?”

  “She’s fine. Why? What do you mean?”

  “I mean, does she ever like, hear stuff anymore?”

  He means the voices. Ryan and I are the only ones who know about Jade hearing her mom’s voice in her head.

  “No. She doesn’t.”

  “Do you think she’d tell you if she did?” He turns the vent so the heat isn’t blowing on him.

  “Yeah, she’d tell me. She’s going to counseling now. You knew that, right?”

  “Dad told me she was. But she’s been to counseling before and it didn’t help.”

  “It’s different now. She wants to go. Nobody is forcing her.”

  “Good. She needs to deal with that stuff.” He pauses. “When I first met Jade, she was so skinny I thought she was anorexic. Her face was all sunk in, her bones were sticking out everywhere. Then I found out she was skinny because she didn’t have any food at her house. She was 12 when I met her. She saw me moving into the house with my dad and came over and said hi, a big smile on her face. She was desperate to make a friend. I invited her for dinner that night, and before she came over, my dad told me about her and her mom.”

  Part of me wants to hear more about Jade’s past, but the other part of me doesn’t. I don’t want to think about her not having food or friends or anyone to take care of her. It’s the past, but it still breaks my heart.

  “Anyway,” Ryan says. “I love her and I just want her to get past all that.”

  “We both do, Ryan. It’s just going to take some time, but I’m doing everything I can to help her.”

  He shrugs. “I’ve decided you’re not so bad. Jade could’ve done worse.”

  I laugh. “Thanks. That means a lot.”

  “Speaking of Jade, I better turn around or she’ll yell at us for being gone too long.” He gets off at the next exit. There’s nothing out here but farm fields and an old gas station. “You want to drive back?”

  “Sure.”

  “I’ll pull over at the gas station.” Ryan turns right, heading toward it just as my phone rings. It’s Jade.

  “Garret. You need to get home.”

  “Yeah, I know. We’re turning around.”

  “Did your dad call you?”

  “No. Why would my dad call?”

  “You need to hurry.” Jade’s voice is rushed, urgent.

  “Why? What’s wrong?”

  Ryan turns into the gas station. I nudge his arm. “Don’t pull over, just go.”

  “You don’t want to drive?”

  “No. Just get back on the interstate and head home.” I speak into the phone again. “Jade? Are you still there?”

  “Yes, but—” Her voice gets cut off. I check my phone and only see one bar lit up.

  “You don’t have cell reception out here?” I ask Ryan.

  “It gets spotty when you’re out in these rural areas.”

  I hear Jade again. “Garret?”

  “Yeah, we got cut off. What’s going on there?”

  “You need to get home. Your grandfather—” The phone cuts out again.

  “My grandfather what? Jade? Are you there?”

  I check my phone. It’s dead. Shit! I forgot to plug it in last night. “Ryan, can I borrow your phone?”

  “I left it on the kitchen counter.” Ryan’s on the interstate now, going the speed limit.

  “You need to drive faster,” I tell him.

  “I can’t. I’ll get a ticket. That cop we passed earlier might still be there.”

  “I don’t give a shit. I’ll pay the ticket.”

  He mumbles something about his insurance rates going up. I’m not really listening as I try to figure out why Jade sounded so frantic. Did someone show up at the house? Is my grandfather there? Or did he send someone there? Shit, what if he did? Is that why Jade asked if my dad called? Does she know what’s going on? Does she think my dad’s involved?

  In my mind I see images of Jade and Frank being held hostage in the house, guns pointed at their heads.

  “Ryan, drive faster. I’m serious.”

  “What’s wrong? What’s going on?”

  I keep my eyes on the road. “Do you have a gun?”

  “A gun? Why would I have a gun?”

  “So you don’t have one? Frank doesn’t have one?”

  “No. Why?”

  “Something’s wrong and Jade wouldn’t tell me anything. But she sounded really upset so we need to hurry up and get home.”

  “Why did you ask about a gun? You think someone’s at the house? Like trying to rob us?”

  I squeeze my hand into a fist, clutching my phone with the other. “I don’t know. We just need to get home.”

  He steps on the gas and five minutes later we’re back at the house. Nothing looks out of place, at least not on the outside. I jump out of the car while it’s still running and we’re still in the driveway. The front door is locked so I bang on it and ring the bell a few times.

  Jade opens the door and pulls me into the living room and points to the TV. “It’s your grandfather.”

  An image of my grandfather is at the top right corner of the screen.

  I walk closer to the TV and hear the newswoman talking, “…suffered a severe stroke that has left him in a coma. Kensington was found earlier this morning in his Manhattan apartment and immediately rushed to the emergency room. He’s currently in critical condition. In a statement just released, Holton’s son, Pearce Kensington, said his father appeared to be in good health just last night when the two of them met for dinner. Pearce has asked the press to give his family privacy during this difficult time. In other news…”

  My gaze remains on the TV as Jade hugs me. “I didn’t want to tell you over the phone. But I thought for sure your dad would’ve called and told you.” I feel her pull away. “Garret?”

  I glance down at her. “No, he didn’t call.”

  “You should call your father,” Frank says.

  I look over and see Ryan standing next to Frank. Everyone’s staring at me, waiting for me to say something.

  “Could you change the channel?” I ask Frank. “Find another news channel.”

  He comes over and hands me the remote. “It’s all yours.”

  I flip through the channels until I see my grandfather’s photo again. I turn up the volume. It’s a financial news show with two older men talking to each other at a round table.

  One of the men says, “If Holton doesn’t recover, how will that impact the future of Kensington Chemical?”

  The other man answers, “I doubt that it will. Holton is chairman of the board but his son, Pearce, is the one driving the success of the company. Kensington Chemical has seen tremendous growth since Pearce took over as CEO. With him at the helm, I foresee many profitable years ahead.” He smiles. “Now if the company is ever turned over to Pearce’s son, Garret, I would predict it would go out of business.”

  Both men laugh. Then one of them says, “Yes, he certainly made a spectacle of himself last year, didn’t he? He’s not the type of person you’d want running a company.”

  I change the channel again and see my dad walking fast toward the entrance of Kensington Chemical.

  “I’m not answering any questions,” he says to the reporters gathered around him. “I ask that you give my family privacy during this difficult time.” He goes inside the building
and security guards block the door so the reporters can’t get in.

  I hand Frank the remote. “I need to call my dad.” I walk down the hall with Jade following behind me.

  “Garret, wait. What should I do? Should I get the next flight to Connecticut?”

  “We’re not going to Connecticut. We’re going home.”

  “Oh. Okay. So when are we leaving for Connecticut?”

  “We’re not.” I walk into the bedroom and over to my phone charger on the dresser. I plug in my phone and turn it on.

  “Don’t you want to see your grandfather?”

  “He’s in a coma. He wouldn’t even know I’m there.”

  I’m really pissed right now. Why didn’t my dad call me? Or my grandmother? Or Katherine? My grandfather’s in a coma and nobody tells me?

  “You’re not going to see him?”

  “No.” I stand there, my mind racing, my muscles tight. I’m still on edge from thinking Jade was here with a gun to her head.

  “But he’s your grandfather. You need to go.”

  “The news said he’s in critical condition. He’s probably not going to make it. He’ll probably be gone before I even got there.”

  “Then we should be there for your dad.” She says it softly. “And the funeral.”

  “I’m not going to the funeral.”

  “You’re not?”

  Jade’s staring at me like she can’t figure this out. Like she thinks I should be crying or something. But right now, I’m not able to put on a show and pretend that I’m sad. Because I’m not sad. Not even a little.

  “Garret, if he doesn’t make it, you have to go to the funeral.”

  “Why? You didn’t go to your grandfather’s funeral.”

  Shit. I didn’t mean to say that. My mind’s all over the place right now and I’m not thinking straight.

  Jade looks down at the floor.

  I pull her into a hug. “I’m sorry, Jade. I never should’ve said that. I know you wanted to be at Arlin’s funeral. Dammit. I’m really sorry.”

  “It’s okay.” She wipes her eyes and looks up at me. “I know you’re upset. What can I do?”

  “Just give me a minute to talk to my dad.”

  She nods. “Okay.”

  She leaves, closing the door behind her. I call my dad. After the third ring, he picks up.

  “Garret, I have some news,” he says.

  “Yeah, I heard. When did you find out?”

  “Earlier this morning.”

  “And you couldn’t fucking call me?”

  He’s quiet, and I realize I need to calm down. I don’t know how my dad’s feeling about this and I need to at least consider he might be sad.

  “I’m sorry, Dad. I didn’t mean to yell at you. I just didn’t like hearing about this on the news.”

  “I know. And I should’ve called earlier. I was at the hospital and then things got out of control with the media and—well, I should’ve called. I’m sorry about that.”

  “So someone found him?”

  “Yes. The housekeeper went in to clean and she found him on the floor in the living room.”

  “Where was Grandmother?”

  “At home, in Connecticut. But now she’s here in New York, staying with me at the apartment.”

  “How is she doing?”

  “She’s dealing with it. My mother isn’t one to show emotion. You know that.”

  “How about you? Are you okay?”

  “Yes.” There’s this odd moment of silence and then, “He’s not expected to recover, Garret.”

  More silence. Dead silence.

  My family uses silence like other people use words. Silence is a form of communication to us. And I think my dad is telling me something with his silence.

  A cold chill runs through me as I consider what the silence means.

  “Dad, you didn’t—” I can’t say it. I shouldn’t even be thinking it. He would never do that. Not to his own father. But he answered my phone call. And he said he wouldn’t talk to me until this was over. Until he took care of it. He promised he’d take care of it.

  And now it’s taken care of. Or it will be if my grandfather dies, and it sounds like that’ll be happening very soon.

  “Garret, I need to go.”

  “Wait. So you were with him last night for dinner?”

  “Yes, I was here for a meeting so we met for dinner. He was tired so we didn’t stay out late.”

  “What caused the stroke? Do they know?”

  “They’re not sure. It could’ve been caused by a number of things.”

  I’ve heard that story before. Someone has a sudden heart attack or stroke that can’t be explained. I don’t know much about strokes other than stuff I’ve heard on TV. I know they can kill you and I know there aren’t always warning signs, so maybe it just happened.

  But I also know there are certain drugs that can induce a stroke or a heart attack or a brain aneurysm. That’s one way the organization takes out their enemies, especially people who are important. People whose deaths would be investigated. If they wanted to kill someone like Sean, a nobody, they’d just shoot him and then pay some cop to make a fake police report saying it was just a random crime. But if they need to kill a senator or a governor or some other well-known person, they plan a car accident or a plane crash. Or they make it look like the person died of a stroke or a sudden heart attack.

  That’s what I think happened to Arlin. I think one of the members slipped Arlin a drug that caused his heart attack. I didn’t come to this conclusion until just last week, when my grandfather made that comment about Arlin. My grandfather acted like he knew Arlin was involved in the plan to destroy my image. And if he knew, then others might’ve as well. If so, Arlin would’ve been killed, maybe by my grandfather himself. Arlin and my grandfather were good friends for many years. And yet I know for a fact that my grandfather would have no problem killing his friend. Just like he had no problem killing his daughter-in-law. And no problem plotting to kill Jade.

  I want him gone. I want that bastard dead and I don’t feel bad about it.

  “How long?” I ask, without an ounce of emotion.

  My dad knows what I’m asking. “The doctor said he won’t make it through the night. He’ll be gone by morning.”

  There’s more silence. This time it’s conveying relief. Overwhelming relief. By tomorrow, this will all be over.

  “We’ll talk soon. Goodbye, Garret.”

  He hangs up and I sit on the bed, the relief I felt just seconds ago replaced by a heaviness in my chest as I think about how this happened. Was it really just a stroke? Or did my dad do this?

  I never asked him the question. I couldn’t, because I didn’t want the answer. He said he didn’t know what caused the stroke. But he’s an expert at lying. All my life, I’ve never been able to read him to know if he’s telling the truth.

  As much as I wanted my grandfather gone, I didn’t want it to be at the hands of my dad. Killing his own father? It seems too evil. Like something my grandfather would do, but not my dad. He’s different.

  My dad didn’t do this. He couldn’t. I know he’s had people killed before, and even done it himself, but he couldn’t kill his own father. Could he?

  I think back to last week, when I told my dad what happened to my mom. How his father had planned my mom’s death. Planned the timing of it. Made my dad think she was safe when she really wasn’t. Is knowing that enough to drive my dad to kill his own father?

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  7

  JADE

  I knock on the bedroom door, then open it slightly and see Garret sitting on the bed, his forearms resting on his knees as he stares at the floor.

  I walk over and stand in front of him. “Did you talk to your dad?”

  He sits up. “Yeah. He agreed I shouldn’t go out there. He said my grandfather won’t make it through the night.”

  I hug him. “Garret, I’m sorry.”

  He hugs me back but doesn’t
say anything. I’m not sure what to do for him. I don’t know how he’s feeling. I know his grandfather wasn’t speaking to him, but I thought Garret would be more upset by this. Maybe he’s still in shock. He needs time to let this sink in. Right now, I just need to be here for him.

  I pull away. “I don’t mean to rush you, but we really need to head to the airport. Or we could take a later flight if you want.”

  He stands up. “No. Let’s go. We need to get home.” He points to the suitcase. “Is everything packed?”

  “Yeah.” I kneel down and zip it up, then turn it upright.

  Garret takes it and we go to the living room. As Garret brings the suitcase out to the garage, I go over to Frank and Ryan. “Pearce said Holton won’t make it through the night. I think Garret’s kind of in shock right now so don’t ask him about it, okay? Just act normal.”

  Garret comes back in from the garage. “I wasn’t sure which car we’re taking to the airport but I put the suitcase in the Honda.”

  We all stare at him. He’s almost acting like nothing happened.

  “Yes, that’s perfect.” Frank grabs his keys from the counter. “Everyone ready?”

  It’s weird to act like this, but how else are we supposed to act? We have to follow Garret’s lead, and right now, he wants to ignore the fact that his grandfather is dying.

  Frank makes small talk on the way to the airport. Ryan and I add to the conversation but Garret says nothing. At the airport, Frank parks at the drop-off area and we do the usual hugs and goodbyes.

  “Call us when you get there,” Frank says to me.

  “I always do.”

  “I know. I’m just reminding you to.”

  I hug him. “Love you, Dad.”

  “Love you, too, honey.”

  I hug Ryan. “You need to give Chloe that ring for Christmas.”

  “You need to stop pushing me to get married. It’s really getting annoying.”

  I laugh. “Get used to it. I’m not going to stop until you propose.”

  Garret’s standing there, waiting. He already said his goodbyes.

  “See you guys later.” I wave as they get in the car.