If anyone was watching her and Wes now, they would be able to see quite clearly that they looked more like a couple than anything else.
“You care about me?” he asked, completely glossing over everything else she cautioned about.
“Wes, I just said you could be in danger.”
“I don’t care about that.” His lips slid up into a soft smile and he held her gaze. “Taylor, do you care about me?”
“Yes,” she replied, feeling her own cheeks flush now.
“Is that in a cupid, adorable, teddy bear sort of caring way? No one wants to see something happen to cupid, or an adorable teddy bear.”
Humor, always with the humor. “How can you joke so easily?” She couldn’t help the smile that played on the corners of her mouth.
“It helps. So, Taylor, in what way do you care about me?” The seriousness returned to his face. He looked at her as if he was desperate to know, to hear her answer.
“I…like you. A lot. I know I’m so far below your league.”
She paused for a moment to think about what she just said. She’d never thought that about herself before. Probably because the men she tended to date had about the same academic background as her. She’d gone to UCLA to study fashion, barely attended the classes that interested her because she was always tending to her Kappa Alpha Theta events and other sorority matters.
Things like having a strong academic background didn’t matter when you were the daughter of a renowned fashion mogul and a Vanderville. Men flocked to her in hoards and she’d never worried about impressing anyone. Until now.
The man before her was so intelligent just looking at him and speaking to him made her want to make sure she pronounced her words right.
A surprised laugh escaped his lips and it nearly threw her off her confidence a little. Her skin warmed and she felt her face go hotter. Of course it would. She’d just told him she liked him a lot, then drew attention to her flaws.
He was probably thinking of how far below him she was. Maybe that’s why he laughed.
She frowned and moved to go, but he caught her arm and pulled her back towards him. Before her next words could form in her mind, he smoothed his hand across her cheek, bringing her closer so he could lower to her lips.
The connection stunned her soul. If she thought she’d ever felt anything for anyone when she was kissed before, or if she thought she was in love previously, what she felt just then eradicated everything before that moment.
It was difficult to describe, but she would have to say that it felt like a new life force had entered her body, filling it with pure, raw happiness. It was like receiving oxygen after being deprived of it, air into her lungs revitalizing her being. The energy from the kiss rushed over her body, rushing over her skin, seeping through its layers and making its way to every fiber of her being, every cell that formed her, everything that was her.
She melted against his chest where he held her, and even that produced its own effect.
When he pulled back, she gazed up at him, searching his eyes. He continued to hold her, and it was a good thing, too, because she didn’t think she’d have the strength to stand on her own, and definitely not when he was looking at her like that.
As if he thought she was the most beautiful woman in the world and he wanted her.
“I like you, too, a lot. The joke is totally on me. You couldn’t possibly think you’re below my league.” He narrowed his eyes at her.
“I am, Wes,” she replied, finding her voice.
“No way. It’s me who doesn’t even begin to climb up the scale. But please, can we stop comparing and measuring. I’ve had to do that all my life.”
She reached up and touched his face; the sadness in his eyes compelled her to do so because she couldn’t imagine someone like him needing to do that. He turned and brought her hand over to his lips so he could kiss it. The gesture made her smile.
“Let’s go for a walk on the beach,” he suggested.
While she could think of nothing sweeter and more refreshing, the worry she felt previously returned.
What was happening was serious. It was a serious matter that she couldn’t overlook, and she wouldn’t be able to live with herself if something happened to Wes.
She shook her head. “I’m scared.” She was actually terrified, and then there was the whole fact that she’d just gotten out of a long-term relationship. “And I don’t want you to think that you’re rebound guy, because you aren’t.”
“I don’t think that.” He shook his head. “I understand if you find it hard to separate your feelings for Richard. You were with him for a long time.”
“No, I actually don’t have a problem with that.” It was the strangest thing, but seeing Richard with his family, and knowing that he had lied to her and cheated, killed any love she may have had for him in an instant. That stupid kiss she shared with him was down to her weakened state at the time. She still felt weak from the accident, and her body was still recovering. However, her mind was there. It was here, and so was her heart. “He hurt me, Wes, and made me feel like nothing. He made me feel like I’m the kind of person you’d have on the side, but never be serious about. And then he made me look like a homewrecker. Me.” The whole thing still saddened her. That part did, because she was made to look like that against her will and wishes. “I have no feelings for him, other than the urge to stay away and forget him. But I’m scared for you, Wes. I can’t allow something to happen to you, just because you know me.”
He shook his head and smiled. “I’m not going anywhere, Taylor. And now that I know what it’s like to kiss you, nothing on Earth is going to prevent me from doing it again.” A slow smile danced on the edge of his lips. Looking at them made her want to kiss him again. “I choose danger if my reward is you.”
God, had anyone ever said anything like that to her before? Had she ever felt like this just from a few words? As if her heart would burst at the joy of just being in his presence.
He released her hand and cupped her face. “Come with me, Taylor. We’ll walk on the beach and then we’ll come back here and I’ll make you dinner. While we do that, you can help me brainstorm ideas on how we can help Wade.”
This was what she meant about him. His positivity. While everyone accepted the situation as a lost cause, he was busy thinking outside the box. Seeing through the obstacles and trying to find a way around it. But she was in complete awe that he’d want to help, given his awful past with Wade.
“You want to help?”
He shook his head and smiled. “Correction. I’m going to help. I don’t know how yet, but it’ll come to me.”
“Really, you think you can?” She couldn’t believe it.
“I can’t make any promises, but I’m going to do my best. Wade was framed and the person who framed him went through a lot of trouble to hide any- and everything to prove his innocence. I just have to find something.”
All she could do was stare. “Oh Wes, you’re the best.”
“Thanks. Now come let’s walk and enjoy the rest of the afternoon.” He smiled and took her hand, tugging her along.
Her hand in his felt like it belonged there. It was as if they’d always been like this. It would be great to hear what ideas he had to help Wade, but she looked forward to spending time with him, and she’d savor every minute they had.
Chapter 5
Regina
Detective Fray’s calls always meant that something else had happened. When Regina looked at her phone earlier and saw his number come up, her stomach tightened. When he told her that a hand—the rest of Jackson Donovan’s hand—had been delivered to Ben last night, and asked her if she had received anything, she threw up.
Literally threw up. Her mind had pieced together the image of the finger she received weeks ago and conjured up one of the hand. It took her a good hour or so before she could calm herself. And that was with Brian’s assistance.
A finger and a hand. Jackson Donovan’s finger and
hand.
She’d never gotten the chance to finish her conversation with Ben last week when they were at the station. Detective Fray had come in at the moment she thought Ben was going to go into a little more detail about what they were up against. Since then, he was busy with Wade, and his office wasn’t too happy with his decision to represent Wade.
His firmness with them was impressive, but it made her question things even more. She knew Ben all too well, and knew his strength behind his power. However, his actions were that of a man who had hit a stumbling block. He seemed to be clawing at the areas where he could still have some influence. She hadn’t seen this side of him often, probably once before during the oil rig incident, but his actions then weren’t as bad as they were now.
She thought that with him getting Jackson’s hand, it gave her every reason in the world to visit her soon-to-be-ex-husband and get the information she deserved from him.
It was just before noon. Ben was sitting out on the terrace behind one of the wooden tables. A file lay open before him.
A sickly green color washed over his face when he saw her. The reaction was enough to highlight the severe direction their situation had taken.
“Detective Fray told me what happened,” she began.
She pulled out the chair opposite him and sat down. He straightened up and looked at her.
“I got the finger, you got the hand. How comes you didn’t call?” She knew he wouldn’t call. That part was just a goad. Throughout this whole event Ben had never called her, not even once. Not even to ask what had happened.
She thought his lack of care was appalling, but it didn’t surprise her.
“Didn’t want to worry you. You seemed content playing house with Brian. The happy couple and their daughter.” When Ben was sarcastic it normally had that double-edged effect where it would make her feel humiliated, but also produce some level of fear in her.
Not today. She’d risen above that. She’d risen so far above his tactics that she was looking down on him. He couldn’t hurt her anymore. At least not with his words, and definitely not with his threats.
“Brian and I are doing well. Taylor’s getting to know him, but like the angel she is, she’s made her love for you quite clear.” Openness and transparency. That was what she needed here. Because that was what she wanted from him. Regina had spoken to Taylor the other day, to see how she was coping.
Wade was in some serious trouble, and everything that was going on with him terrified her, but in the midst of that, she had to remember all that Taylor had gone through in such a short space of time. Finding out that Brian was her father had to have done a number on her mind, too, so Regina had sat her down and they had a nice long talk about all that had happened.
As always, Taylor never failed to impress her with the extent of her love. Sharing how Taylor felt was probably what would help her now to talk to Ben. She needed answers. She needed to know what they were up against. Her boy was suffering for something he didn’t do. At the very least she wanted to know why.
“Did she say that?” Ben asked. There was a flicker of something in his eyes. It seemed to soften the hardness in his expression.
“Yes, she did. Specifically.”
He looked away from her and gazed out to the garden. She followed his gaze and noticed that all the roses had wilted. There was a time when she spent hours in that garden tending to the flowers. It was a way of getting her mind off the mistakes she’d made in her life. She’d busy herself with growing miniature roses and other flowers, some of which were difficult to keep. It was soothing at the time, but then everything became too much and she stopped.
When she looked back to him he was already looking at her.
“Why are you telling me this? Why are you telling me that Taylor loves me?”
She pulled in a breath. “So that you can be honest with me. I need to know why my son is in prison. Why does he need to suffer for something you did? Things are just getting worse, Ben, and you need to start talking before someone else dies.”
That was the truth of the matter. He looked down at the table, at the folder, and then back to her. He reached out and slid it over towards her.
She noticed that his skin grew paler and that haggardness she’d seen on him last week returned.
Regina opened the folder. The first thing that greeted her was a drawing. It was of a very beautiful woman with long dark hair. She thought she recognized her but couldn’t be certain. She continued to look through and found at least twenty more drawings of the woman in different settings and with a child. A boy.
Those depicted happy moments of them at the beach, in a woodland park, at the fair.
Regina looked at the drawings before her and the most prominent thing that stood out was that they were drawings of this woman. She’d gotten a drawing of herself, of Wade, of Chloe. Except for that very first drawing of Ben and his secretary that she saw when this whole thing started, he was the only person to get something different. She thought back to that drawing of his secretary and it came together in her mind. That was the same woman. This was her.
But what did it mean?
“Who is she? Were you with her?” Regina already knew the answer was yes, even before he nodded.
“Rachel Dean. That was her name,” Ben replied.
She noticed the way he emphasized was.
“What do you mean by was?”
“She died, twenty years ago,” he said barely above a whisper.
Her breath caught in her chest. “Does this person blame you for her death?”
Her hands started shaking as she continued to observe him. It was the way he looked. His face seemed even paler as he fixed his gaze on her, and his eyes, they held guilt.
“Yes. They blame me, because it was my fault.”
“Who is he?”
“Her son. His name is Aaron. I wasn’t certain it was him, but I had my suspicions from the drawings. They depicted things that would matter to just him. When we found out about Jackson, I knew for sure it had to be him.”
“How can you be certain? I don’t understand.”
“Because of what we did.”
“What did you do, Ben?” The question of key significance.
Ben stared at her, long and hard. His eyes growing colder, but not in that calculative manner in which she was used to. He was different. It was as if he’d realized he’d lost the game and there was no point in hiding anymore.
“I killed her. Jackson and I killed her.”
Her mouth dropped and she jumped back, nearly falling off her chair. She stood up but thought she would fall over. He stood, too, and made a move towards her.
“Oh God, Ben, what? What are you telling me? What are you saying?”
“I didn’t pull the trigger, but I told Jackson to kill her. So I’m guilty too.”
Evil. That was what he was. She pulled in a sharp breath against the constriction in her chest. “Stay away,” she cried. “Stay away from me and my kids.” She was shaking so much again she thought she would fall over.
She shook her head at him and frowned as tears spilled down her cheeks. She hated to cry in front of him, hated to show any sign of weakness. Hated it to no end to show that she couldn’t be stronger than the shell of a person he made her feel like most times. But these tears were a natural reaction. They just came. Pouring out of her as if someone had pressed the buttons that controlled her emotions.
This…was what she’d been scared of. This.
Finding out the truth. Having confirmation of what she feared Ben was capable of. She feared having her suspicions come to life. And yet, she never expected that he would tell her, even though she’d asked.
“Regina…” He reached out his hand towards her but she backed away and stumbled. Her legs could no longer hold her up and she fell, bruising her hands on the cobbled ground.
He came to her, bending down next her and taking a grip of her shoulders.
“Regina,” he cried, staring he
r down.
She couldn’t talk, she couldn’t breathe. The fear of what he was going to do to her left her numb and void of words. All she could do was sit there and wait, and watch to see what he would do next.
“I just confessed to a crime. I just confessed to you, and I’m going to turn myself into the police.”
She searched his eyes. Searched them from the shock she felt at his words. His grip tightened on her shoulders and he pulled her up to stand.
“You killed someone, Ben?” She couldn’t stop the tears from falling. She couldn’t stop the sick feeling that filled her as she thought about it all. Despicable was the word that came to mind when she thought of him. But no, he wasn’t despicable. That was too meagre a word to describe him.
Ben was evil. He was evil.
“You killed that boy’s mother?”
He looked at her and nodded slowly. “There are no excuses for what I did.”
“How… How did it happen? Was it an accident?” She cried even more when he shook his head.
“Rachel found evidence of various things I’d done. Bad things that could destroy me.”
“The oil rig incident. Like that?”
“Yes, especially that,” he replied. “She was going to expose me.”
“So, you killed her, for that?”
“She made copies of various files I thought we’d gotten rid of and threatened to take it to the press. Jackson and I tracked her to a barn outside of L.A. She knew too much, and had seen too much, so I had Jackson kill her.”
She covered her mouth as bile rose in her chest; again she felt like vomiting.
“She had a child.”
“Yes.”
“What happened to him? How do you know this person is him?”
“It has to be. I’m going to ask Chance Patterson to take over Wade’s investigation, and then I’m going to turn myself in. It’s the only way to stop this. If he has me, maybe this will stop, Wade will be free, and the craziness will stop.”
At that moment, Ben’s phone rang. It rang a few times before he answered it. When he did, he actually looked paler, if that was possible. In the time that she’d spent here she’d seen the shade of his skin recede into this. But the blood actually looked like it had drained from his body.
Into The Rabbit Hole Page 6