THORNE: Rose's Dark Secret: (Book 2)

by R. B. O'Brien

  My cell rang and I held up a finger to her to answer it. It was Mark. “Hey. What’s up? Can I call you back in a few minutes?”

  “Um…yeah. Sure. Please do. It’s important. I’ll be waiting.”

  I hung up and turned back to the beauty before me. “You have been compensated for this interview?”

  She shook her head.

  “And may I remind you of the confidentiality of this and that I have every single detail of your life?”

  “Yes. I promise.” A tear escaped her eye.

  “Hey.” I lifted her chin with my fingers and looked in her eyes. “This wasn’t meant to be. It’s nothing personal. I like you. You are clearly very smart. Beautiful. You will find the perfect Dom to match you. But let this be a lesson. Never be unprepared for an interview. If you want something badly enough, you need to work for it. No hard feelings. Off you go.”

  I wasn’t sure if any of them would make me happy. There was really no reason I was so hard on her. I loved when my personal assistants failed. It was part of the fun. And I couldn’t ignore the nagging suspicion I had of why I wasn’t more drawn to her.

  When I buzzed Mark back, he sounded rather frantic. “What’s up, Mark?”

  “It’s Rose. There’s been an accident.”

  “A what?”

  “Listen. I have no idea what has gone on between the two of you, I have no idea what you’ve done in your past, but god damn it, William, if you don’t love her, tell her, because I do. Okay? I love her. And I want to take care of her. I want to marry her.”

  My ears were ringing and I felt nauseous. “Mark,” I hissed. “Shut the fuck up and tell me right now what kind of accident? What are you talking about?”

  “Look. She got into a car accident coming back from an audition for an extremely important symphony orchestra as the key pianist. She hasn’t been sleeping well. Or eating. She fell asleep at the wheel.”

  “Jesus fucking Christ. She what?” A huge wave of guilt took hold of me. But why? She had lied to me. I was not the one at fault here. Except that you killed her grandfather and could have prevented it.

  “She’s fine. Or she will be fine. But it made me realize just how much I love her, William. But the first person she asked for was you. And she begged me to call you. I have no idea why with the way you treat her, but I love her and I want her happy. So can you get over here?”

  Fuck. “She asked for me? I have no idea why…”

  “Jesus, William. Will you just get over here?”

  I shook off my shock. “Remember who you are speaking to, Mark. But yes. I’ll be right there.” In fact, there wasn’t any hesitation whatsoever. I was already getting in my truck. No time for Ralph. “Let me just cancel a few appointments.”

  “Yeah. Okay.” He didn’t sound happy.

  I hung up, called Jennifer, and sped out of the driveway. Fuck. What was I doing?

  Chapter Seven

  When I pulled into the lot, I immediately drove to the valet parking section, handed over my keys, and hurried out of the car. Fuck. Should I be doing this? My cell rang. “Hey.”

  “Hey. Is she all right?” Jennifer tried to hide the horror I heard behind the tone in her voice.

  “I don’t know. I just got here. I don’t even know what I’m doing here to begin with.”

  There was a long pause before she spoke. “Yes, William. Yes, you do. So just please. Cut the fucking crap. Life is too short for this bullshit. And I’m sick of it. You need me to come?”

  I sighed. “I don’t know. I guess it depends on what I’m about to find up there. I’ll call or text you in a bit. It may not be a bad idea to have Ralph come pick me up? You can come with him and drive my truck back?”

  “Sure, Will. I’m here. Whatever you need. Don’t ever forget. I’ve told you this a million times. We’re in this together. I’m heading over to her hotel to grab some stuff for her. Mark is meeting me.”

  “Mark? Her stuff? Just what are you talking about, Jennifer?” I questioned slightly confused.

  “Yes. I am assuming she will need some care. She doesn’t have anyone, William. After you told me the whole story, I did more research. She didn’t lie to you about anything, other than her name and the name of her grandfather. Everything else is true. The boyfriend she was to marry, her parents’ death, her college life, her waitressing job. Those investigators sought her out and worked her over. She is a victim in this as much as you, William. It’s time you cut her some slack.”

  “I have!” I said much louder than I intended, looking around to see if anyone heard me and lowered my voice. “Don’t you think I have? I’ve forgiven her. I don’t blame her. Jesus. And you and I both know that I am no victim, Jenny.”

  “No. You’re right. You blame yourself. You blame yourself for something that happened over twenty years ago. Something that was 100% not your fault. I was there too, Will. I don’t blame myself. This needs to stop. If you must tell your story, if that will make this right, go ahead. But what happened then is not your fault. How you go forward? How you treat Rose…that. That will be your fault.”

  I sighed and couldn’t think straight. What I had done and what Jenny had done were two different things. “Whatever I decide to do, I will not bring you into this. That much I know. You have nothing to do with this.”

  “I have everything to do with this. That is what a best friend is. And I can also tell you right now, that if you do choose to explain what happened all those years ago, you can bet that I will be explaining it too.

  “You were a scared 14-year-old boy, William. You did what almost any 14-year-old boy would have done. You panicked. And when you tried to do the right thing…well…your mother made the final decision on the outcome of that day. I won’t say it again. It wasn’t your fault. And I’ll make sure everyone knows that.”

  “Now isn’t the time to argue about this, Jenny. I still have no idea what I’m going to do. Right now, I need to deal with the woman up there who I can’t help but feel responsible for hurting.”

  It was her turn to sigh. “I agree. I don’t care to argue right now either. And I’m sure Mark is waiting for me. I should get over there.”

  I did not like all this talk about Mark. “What does Mark have to do with you going to get her stuff anyway? Have you even asked her if she wants you to get her stuff?”

  “I know what you’re asking, William. Yes. Mark has her keys. They have become close. And you only have yourself to blame.”

  Gee, Jenny, twist the knife in a bit more, and I suddenly felt angry thinking of her with Mark.

  “Yeah. So…let’s not go getting ahead of ourselves. Okay? I think you’re making an awful lot of assumptions right now, one of which is that I don’t want her living with us. I have no desire for that.”

  “Yeah. Sure, William.” I could hear the dripping faucet of her sarcasm. She was the only person who could get away with talking to me like that.

  “I’ll talk to you later.” And I hung up the phone. If I knew Jennifer at all, she was going to do whatever the hell she wanted.

  I walked through the revolving doors, my gut full of worry that I tried to pretend wasn’t there. When I went over to the Information Booth, I almost couldn’t say her last name. The flood of memories washed over me, of Mr. Wellington, of that day. I felt as if I might throw up and sat on a bench to regain my composure.

  When I entered her room, she lay there, silent, peaceful, hooked-up to IVs. My stomach knotted again looking at her. Even now, a bandage on her forehead, the coloring of bruising across her chest, arms, and cheeks, she looked beautiful. Her lips were still in perfect condition. Not one blemish on them. Her long lashes twitched against her cheeks as she slept, and I looked over my shoulder before I placed a light kiss on that one place that hadn’t been hurt, those perfect lips, and a little moan escaped them, her sweet breath affecting me more than it should. I withdrew, not wanting to wake her, and took a seat in the chair. Just what was I doing here? Only thirty minutes ago, I wa
s moving on from Rose. Interviewing my next PA. Jesus. And I let out a long, strained exhale and closed my eyes.

  ****

  I came back, my bag with the few remaining newspapers hurled across my shoulder, and tried to act nonchalant, normal, like I hadn’t just seen what I had. I was in shock. Frozen. Confused. Scared. And the richest boy in town knew. He had seen the same thing.

  “You okay?” Jennifer tilted her head to have a good look at me like she always did.

  I was trying to erase what I had just witnessed from my memory. “Yeah, yeah. Let’s finish up.”

  By the time we delivered the last couple of newspapers on our paper route, a fire truck zoomed by, blaring its sirens and flashing, red lights. Jennifer and I looked at each other. She shrugged her shoulders, still feeling pretty happy about the coup we had just successfully launched against the richest bully in town.

  Another fire truck followed and another. Pretty soon the cop car drove by, loud and fast, and a bunch of kids starting running past us to go follow the action, excitement building in their otherwise boring, mundane existences.

  I looked at Jennifer and she nodded. We hopped back onto our bikes, following the active pulse of the town, their adrenaline pumping.

  “What’s going on?” Jennifer hollered to a boy we had known since kindergarten, Tommy Rueben. But I, I knew what was going on. It was as if I was catatonic. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t do or say anything. I was numb.

  Breathless, Tommy said, “A fire. Good chunk of the first floor I guess. And from my dad’s scanner, there was some old man in there who may be dead from it. Maybe someone else too.”

  What? People? Dead? My mind whirred. I almost couldn’t continue to stand. I gripped my stomach at the horror scene unravelling before my eyes. The horror scene I had created.

  We ran to where all the cars parked and the people watched. I felt bile rising in my throat as I watched the realization wash over Jennifer’s features. Jennifer tugged on my shirt and a tear snuck from her eye.

  “Oh, Will. Oh, Will,” she chanted. Her face froze in shock staring at the burning house. I saw her shoulders rise and fall as she started to cry with the realization that we must have started the fire. I, of course, already knew that.

  It was the exact spot where we stood up to Malcolm and his lackeys. It was the exact spot I blew the smoky poison in Malcolm’s face. It was the exact spot where I flicked the cigarette butt, still alive and burning with its deadly poison. And it was the exact spot where Malcolm and I watched in silence, as the sparks began to ignite the house before our very eyes, and where, in a moment of panic, I grabbed the bag I had left on the ground and took off, like a fucking coward. I fought the overwhelming whir of the ground beneath me spinning. I felt dizzy.

  I shook my head. I was in denial. I couldn’t admit to what I had done. I couldn’t look Jennifer in the eyes. I shoved my hands in my pockets and hung my head down low.

  Jennifer grabbed my shoulders to steady me. “Will.”

  I was nonresponsive.

  “Will!”

  I lifted my head to look up at her.

  “Will. This was an accident, Will. A horrible accident. There was no way you could have known that would start a fire. No way. We will tell the police what happened. It will be fine. It was an accident, Will,” she repeated.

  I stared off blankly, the noise around me making me nauseous.

  “Will,” she yelled again. “Stop this. We’ll tell the police. Our parents. It’s going to be okay. It’s not like you knew you started a fire and left. This was a pure accident.”

  I felt my body tremble as I looked deeply into her eyes. I shook my head.

  “Will?”

  “No, Jenny. No.”

  “No? No, what?”

  I stared at her, like if I stared long enough, she would learn my secret without me having to utter a word. I was a coward. I was a coward in every sense of the word.

  She placed her hand over her mouth as it clicked and withdrew her breath. Her eyes turned to saucers. “Please tell me when you went back to get your bag, you didn’t see…” Her voice trailed as our attention was diverted.

  I saw a man being taken out by a fire fighter as the hoses continued to rain down its water in gushing madness to put out the fire. Half a house was gone but it appeared the rest of it would survive.

  Jennifer was hysterical at this point. The crowd was told to step back and people whispered about what could have caused the fire. I ran to where the firefighters had laid the old man on a gurney, abandoning my bike to holler over the commotion, the vibrating hum of chaos that filled the air.

  “Is he going to be okay?” I was finding it almost impossible to speak.

  One of the EMTs looked at me directly.

  “Are you family?”

  “No.”

  “Then I need you to step back a ways, son, and let us do our job.”

  “Get outta here kids. Go on. Y’all a bunch of nosy rubberneckers,” another EMT shouted.

  “Is he…” I stammered. “Is he dead?”

  The EMTs ignored me as one of the firefighters gently pushed me back with his hand. But soon the answer was obvious. I watched them struggling for another minute to revive him, then stop. One of them checked the time and made a note. The other EMT stood and went to talk to the firefighters and I heard him whisper, “Inhaled too much smoke.”

  I felt my knees buckle at the irony of it all. Smoke was the fucking death of everything in this piece-of-shit town.

  I picked up a clump of dirt in my hands and threw it violently into the air. I looked over to the man being put in the ambulance when my vision focused in on someone else, clear, direct. There Malcom stood in my line of eyesight. We looked at one another, motionless, as if he and I were the only two people there. The background noise went silent. Neither one of us broke eye contact. Something passed between us, unspoken. And I knew exactly what he was saying without one word being uttered. “Don’t you dare say a fucking word.”

  ****

  “Hello.” A soft voice from the doorway appeared. “And you are?”

  I looked up to the plump, friendly nurse. “A friend of Ms.…” I stuttered. “Wellington.”

  “Mr. Thorne?”

  “Yes. William Thorne.” I outstretched my hand.

  “You’re all she’s been asking for while she’s awake. You’re listed here in the paperwork she filled out,” she said matter-of-factly, peering down at her chart.

  “I…” I was at a loss for words.

  “I want to thank you,” she interrupted.

  I looked at her inquisitively.

  “You. And Ms. Wellington. The center. My nephew has been going there and loves your center. He loves to paint.”

  I didn’t know what to say. “Oh…well…I’m happy to hear that.” I paused. “But you know Ms. Wellington is no longer working there, though she certainly was the instrumental reason it’s up and running. No question.”

  “Yes. I understand that. She is so talented. The gentleman earlier, though, said she might come back?”

  Jesus fucking Christ. That again. When was Mark going to drop that? “No. I don’t believe so, Miss…”

  “Hi. I’m Sue,” she offered, “and, in any case, you are quite a hero around here. To have taken that building and turned it into something we can all be proud of. I can’t thank you enough.”

  I hated when people called me that. A hero. Ha. If killing a man and covering it up for years is a hero, then this Gotham City is more fucked up than I thought.

  I changed the subject. “Can someone tell me how she’s doing? Is she going to be okay?”

  “She is. She is very lucky that she was going real slow, according to the report, when she fell asleep. She only sustained a slight concussion. You might say, I think an angel was looking out for her.”

  I exhaled, relieved. “Thank you.” And I stood up. “I’ll be on my way then.”

  Sue looked at me shocked. “Leaving?”

&nbs
p; Why did that make me feel like an asshole? “Well…yes…I…”

  “William? William is that you?”

  Rose looked at me. Those emotional eyes. They got me every time. I froze.

  “I’ll leave y’all alone and I’ll shut the door.” Sue backed out of the room, closing the door behind her softly.

  Rose started to cry. “Please, William.”

  In any other circumstance, the sound of her begging would thrill me and cause my cock to throb. This? Not thrilling at all. I felt like a complete and utter prick. And I just couldn’t fake it anymore. I cared for her. God damn it.

  “Sssssh,” I said and made my way over to her. “Sssssh,” I said again. “I’m right here.”

  “William. I need you. Please. Let me explain. Let me tell you what happened. I’m sorry. Please,” she sobbed.

  I knew it was partly the pain meds she was on that was making her overly emotional. I also knew that was just her. Emotional. Full of such unfathomable emotions. It was one of the reasons I loved her so much. Her capacity to feel. To feel every, single thing, both pleasure and pain. She felt it acutely.

  “Hey.” I pressed my finger to her lips. “You can explain later. After you get out of here. At my house. Preferably naked and writhing under me as I please and punish you. How does that sound?”

  Her eyes looked shocked and her cheeks flushed crimson. I saw her squirm.

  I laughed. “Hey…I’m joking.” I kissed her lips. “Sort of.” I added.

  “Joking?”

  “Well…I said ‘sort of.’ Do you want to come home and stay with me for a bit? Until you’re healed? Jennifer is making the arrangements.”

  She began to well up again. “You forgive me? Do you, William? Do you love me?”

  “Rose,” I said exasperated. I wasn’t ready to admit such things. “Let’s just take one day at a time. Okay? Neither one of us is innocent here. But I am who I am, Rose. That will never change. I like things a certain way. When you are well, you will have to leave. I will most likely be put on trial.”