I drop down onto my bed and pull the folded photograph out from the old cigar box I keep hidden in my closet. A photograph that I found in the attic a couple years ago. That I’m sure my father doesn’t know about. The only reason I know who the woman in the photograph is is because on the back it reads:
Mommy & Darius
Disney World 1984
I don’t know why I need to look at this picture today, or why she’s been on my mind lately. She left six years ago. She never came back. She never called to ask about me. But there’s something inside of me that can’t ignore my desire to know more about her.
She’s such a beautiful woman, with her bright blue eyes and long dark hair, but I don’t understand how anyone so beautiful can be so cold. The same question I’ve asked myself over and over again slides through my mind: Why did she leave me?
I keep thinking I should feel something when I look at her. Feel anything. But I’m so empty, so cold. I don’t remember the woman I see in the photograph. I can’t remember the little things about her that made her my mother.
“Darius, are you packed?” my father’s voice bellows from the hallway. “The driver has been waiting ten minutes for you.”
To get rid of you, is what he always leaves off. But I guess it doesn’t matter anyway, not anymore. I’ve grown to like my friends and teachers at school far more than I like the man entering my bedroom.
“What are you doing?” he barks.
I glance away from the photograph to stare into my father’s dark eyes. That’s when he notices the picture I’m holding, and hardness sweeps over his already cold face.
“Where did you get that?” he sneers.
“I found it in the attic.”
He holds out his hand. “Give it to me.”
“No, I want to keep it.” My fingers tighten around the photograph. I’m not sure why it’s so hard for me to hand him the photograph, but I freeze. I don’t want him to take it. He’ll destroy the photo.
“Now, Darius,” my father demands, voice hard.
I look down again. Without this photograph, I’ll have nothing left of the woman who should have been a mother to me.
The photo is suddenly ripped from my hands. “No,” I scream, jumping off my bed. “Give it back.”
My father spins around and yells, “She didn’t want you. I don’t want to speak of her again. And stop crying. That’s what babies do. Do you want to be a baby, Darius?”
“I’m ten years old. I’m not a baby.” I wipe my tears, feeling so very cold.
“We are to never speak of her again. Get down to the car. Now,” is all my father says before he crumples the photo in his hand and leaves the room.
I blink and suck in a harsh breath, finding my way back from the memory pinning me to my seat. Beneath my desk, I grip my hands tight, begging the shaking to stop. I don’t know why that memory resurfaced now.
When I lift my head, I realize Frank is awaiting my next move. I summon the strength to ask, “When are you able to pull everyone together for a meeting here at Bennett?”
“Not long,” he says calmly. “A day, probably.”
“Good. Do it.” I rise from my seat, not wanting to spend any more time with this man than I have to. It’s an odd thing, I realize, as I’m walking toward him. For so long, I vowed to prove myself to him and to be more than he was. Yet now that I’ve done all of that, I no longer care about the glory. Because as I draw closer, I feel like I’m looking into a mirror, seeing an older version of myself.
And I hate the man in the reflection.
I tighten my jaw, ensuring my father can’t sense the emotion raging through me now. I stare at him dead in the eye. “You’ll be in touch?”
He shakes my hand. “I will.”
I drop his hand and return to my desk, not watching my father leave my office. I place my shaky hands against my desk, feeling something dark splinter inside me and something light fill its place.
It’s vulnerability.
It’s weakness, and it’s crawling inside me.
Chapter 16
Darius
“Please tell me that was not who I think it was.”
I’ve still not recovered from the memory that resurfaced only moments ago, when I glance away from my monitor, seeing Allie marching into my office, eyes blazing with fire. “You know exactly who that was,” I tell her. And had I known she was in the building I would’ve had the meeting with my father elsewhere.
She slams my door behind her, then charges toward my desk and folds her arms. “What in the hell are you doing?”
“Working,” I say, not fueling the clear anger boiling inside her. “And I have a meeting in ten minutes that has already been rescheduled once today.”
“No, smart-ass,” she quips, pointing at the closed door. “Why did I see him leaving your office?”
“It’s business, Allison,” I reply calmly, leaning back in my seat.
Her nostrils flare and she shifts from foot to foot, looking about a second away from ripping off my head. “It’s Allie, Darius,” she says, venom in her voice. “Not, Allison. Allie. That’s what everyone calls me. Friends. Family. It’s always been Allie. Why don’t you give that a try?”
I stare at her blankly.
She huffs and throws up her arms, her face beet-red now. “You shouldn’t even be talking to your fucktard of a father. What’s wrong with you?”
“Fucktard?” I laugh dryly.
When Allie doesn’t laugh with me, I sigh, not wanting to have this conversation with her. She is my baby sister, after all. And for some reason she has always been convinced that she can manage my personal life better than I can. “Is there a reason you’ve come to see me?”
“Why was he here?” She scowls.
I watch her a moment, partly amused that she and Taylor are so much alike. The level of anger they possess for such tiny women is impressive. “I’m considering doing business with him.”
“You’re considering doing business with him?” She repeats.
I nod. “That’s what I said.”
She begins shaking her head and then doesn’t stop, like she’s battling something in her mind.
One second passes…
And another…
Then she’s picking up the notepad on my desk and throwing it at me. “You are so stupid,” she shouts.
I block the hit, sending my chair to smack against the window behind me. Before I can even move, she picks up the pen holder and starts whipping pens at me. “Allison,” I shout, as I’m hit in the shoulder, the arm, the head, hearing them pinging off the window behind me. Good thing for me Allie isn’t good at sports and her aim is terrible. “Stop,” I order, blocking five more pens hurled at me.
Right then, Charlotte whips the door open. “Sir, are you oka—”
Allie’s eyes narrow into slits before she glances over her shoulder toward Charlotte. “Shut that door right now, unless you want to become my next victim.”
The traitor, Charlotte, slams the door shut.
Allie’s glare returns to me, as do the pens being hurled in my direction. “Honest to God,” she sneers. “I don’t know how you can be so smart in business, but so stupid when it comes to your personal life.” She throws another pen at me, which I happily dodge. “At first, I thought that it was just your issues that you needed to sort out. But I have loved you for ten years now, and you’re still entirely stupid.” She throws another pen, which misses me.
“Stop it!” I roar.
She doesn’t, and throws the rest in her hands at me, including the pen holder, hitting my torso before they all fall to the ground. “I’m so angry at you.” Her fists are clenched, and she’s visibly shaking.
“I see that.” I stay against the wall, thinking it wise not to approach her, feeling the slight sting of the pens against my flesh. “And what have I done to piss you off?”
She lifts a finger and points it at me. “Your father? Seriously, Darius? You are doing business with th
e man who took everything away from you when you simply did something right.”
“I’m investing my money alongside his to make more money.” I straighten out my suit, dignifying myself.
“Do you not remember what he did to you?”
Like I could ever forget. “Yes, of course I remember.”
“And you’re still going to make him richer than he already is.”
“No,” I say with a sigh. “I’m going to make myself richer, and that’s the only thing that I’m thinking about. I don’t understand why this bothers you.”
“Of course you don’t, you’re you.” She glances at my desk, no doubt looking for something else to throw at me.
I point at her now, narrowing my eyes. “Don’t even think about it.”
She huffs again, crossing her arms. “You have your second chance. It’s right here, right now, and yet again, you’re doing what you always do.”
I arch a brow. “Which is?”
“Royally fucking it up,” she growls at me.
“Ah, so, this isn’t just about my father?” I heave a long sigh, returning to my seat, still keeping my distance. “You know why I’m keeping my distance with Taylor. If I didn’t, she’d end up all over the tabloids.”
“So the fuck what!” Allie fires back, her anger vibrating off her. “Announce your love to the tabloids. That’s a damn good reason to be in the magazines. Stop hiding and doing the wrong thing. But step out and do the right thing. Not only for Taylor, but for yourself, too.”
But the tabloids would never focus on the good. They would somehow rip Taylor’s life apart. “Now is not the time to do this. I have enough going on with the tabloids than to drag Taylor further into it.”
Her brows raise. “Again, so what?”
“It’s not safe for Taylor.”
“Bullshit,” she growls. “That’s a total cop-out, and you know it.”
Maybe from the earlier conversation, I’m on edge, because this is getting to that place inside I don’t like, touching something within me that crawls with discomfort. “I don’t want to talk about this with you.”
I don’t see or hear her approach me. But then her hands are around my face. “No, this time you are going to hear me.” Her soulful eyes stare deeply into mine, breaking me apart like they did that first time I met her in the police station after her parents died, when she changed my life forever. “You have to stop this vicious cycle you’ve been living in. Let people in, let them love you.”
I rise from my seat, getting away from her and all that she makes me feel. I don’t understand why women need to talk about emotions. And I certainly don’t get why both Allie and Taylor can’t let business be business and leave it alone.
“This,” Allie continues. “All of this. I know what this is.” She closes in on me, sending me walking back toward the window, the walls closing in on me. “It’s all about Mom. It’s all about this thing inside of you that tells you that you don’t deserve to be loved, because you think she didn’t love you, because you think she walked out on you. But it’s not true, if only you would open your eyes.”
“I don’t need to open my eyes. It is true,” I state harshly, clenching my hands into fists. “I was there. She left, and she never came back.”
Allie shakes her head, clearly disagreeing. “Because your father did that to her, and to you. Please. God, Darius, hear me.” Tears well up in her eyes, and her voice trembles. “You didn’t see the heartbreak that Mom lived with, always missing you.” She points to her chest. “I did. I lived with that. I saw her pain from not having you in her life. It broke her, Darius.” She takes one step and then another, then she’s holding on to my arms. “For once, listen to what I’m telling you, please. Stop hating her for something that your father did. He paid other people to lie for him, and you both suffered for it.”
“This isn’t about her,” I say, unease rolling through me, sweat forming along my spine. “I’m protecting Taylor. That’s all.” I return to my chair, unable to look at her, unable to even think. “I need to work, Allison.”
“So, that’s it?” Allie asks, defeated. “Yet again, you’re shutting me, and everyone else, out?”
“I need to work,” is my reply. I fear if I look at her, I’ll break.
“Then all I can say, and hope that you hear me, is stop this. Go to Taylor. Be happy. Because that pain I saw in our mom, that raw pain of missing you so deeply right up until the day she died, I’ve see that same pain in Taylor every single day for the last five years, and I’ve seen it in you, too.”
I can’t even process how I feel about what she told me. I did what I did to give Taylor the life she deserved. I set her free because I love her; isn’t that what they tell you to do? I can only listen, staring down at my keyboard, as Allie adds, “For once, Darius, stop protecting Taylor from a distance, but love her right up close. She needs to look beside her and see you there.”
My eyes shut, and I’m reeling, not sure what I feel, or even what I want to do. My chest tightens, the air so hard to get in and out. I hear the door to my office open and then shut again. I know that Allie’s left now. She’s told me that before about my mother, but how can that be true? My mother never came back. Not once. No phone call. Nothing. She didn’t want you, my father had said. A mother who loved her son would have reached out.
As I’ve thought all along, I suspect that Allie only knows what our mother told her, which are lies to make herself look better. Maybe it’s time Allie knows that, too. To put this matter to bed once and for all, I reach for the phone and quickly dial the number. “Ryder,” I say when he answers the phone. “I need you to look into something personal to me.”
A pause. Then, “What’s that?”
“My parents’ divorce.”
Taylor
By mid-afternoon, I’m done sitting around, wondering why Darius hasn’t called me or come to see me. Something’s wrong. I feel it in my bones. That’s what brings me to his office.
Before I even reach Charlotte’s desk, I see that his door is shut. While he could be in a meeting, something deep inside me tells me he’s not. And as Charlotte sees me, for the first time I catch emotion—concern—on her face; I know I’m not wrong.
“Good afternoon, Taylor,” says Charlotte, looking everywhere but at me.
I’d swear if she could pick up the phone and pretend to be on it, she would. “Is Darius in?” I ask, even though I know he is.
“Um…err…” Charlotte finally collects herself and gives a professional smile. “I’m sorry to say that he is busy. Can I let him know that you dropped by?”
My heart feels the first stab. “Did you let him know earlier that I wanted to talk to him?”
“Yes, of course,” she says.
That’s when I see it. Pity. It’s written there all over her face. “Charlotte, did he tell you specifically that he didn’t want to talk to me today?”
She flinches and whispers, “Please don’t make me answer that. I don’t want to get in trouble.”
And that’s the second blow to my heart in less than two seconds. It’s familiar, too familiar…and oh, so raw. I feel as if I’m sinking into the floor, wishing it would swallow me up whole. “Okay, don’t worry about it,” I say, cheeks flushing red-hot as I spin on my heel to avoid any further embarrassment.
I walk down the hallway, feeling my heart shatter in a way it’s shattered before. This is the Darius I know, the one who’s emotionally unavailable. Where friends call friends when something’s up or wrong, Darius shuts the world out. And as his girlfriend before, I felt burned.
I enter my office, finding Allie smiling at me. “Surprised to see me?” she asks.
“Yes, very,” I respond, almost absentmindedly, moving behind my desk. I should share everything that’s been going on with Darius, and even talk about what I’m feeling to sort through it all. I just don’t know where to start. “But it’s a good surprise. What’s up?”
“Well”—Allie crosses one
leg over the other, bouncing her feet in rhythm with the soft rock song playing on the radio—“we didn’t really get the chance to talk more yesterday after Darius kicked me out, so I thought I’d come by to check in.”
Which in Allie’s terms means she has questions for me that need answers. “All right.” I lean back in my chair. “What’s on your mind?”
Allie takes a sip from her coffee cup then begins. “Are you going to return to San Diego to press charges against Shawn, or is that just something you told your dad to get him to back down?”
I half shrug. “I haven’t quite decided that yet.”
Allie’s eyes narrow in the way they always do when she’s thinking really hard. “What’s the deciding factor?”
I nibble my lip, pondering a moment. “I guess I gotta figure out what I want to do about it all. Pressing charges is a really serious thing, and I want to be sure that’s the right thing to do before I do it.”
“So, no impulse decisions?”
I nod. “Exactly.”
I can tell she wants to know more, but I also know she won’t dig any deeper than what I offer her. Some things are not even for best friends to share, and Shawn’s problems are his, not mine to tell the world.
Instead of pressing me, she asks, “Okay, so now please explain to me why you had sex with Darius last night?”
“Oh, my God, Allie, seriously?” I glance toward the hallway, ensuring no one heard her.
Thankfully, no one did.
An awkward pause hangs in the air between us. I’m staring at her. She’s staring right back at me. Darius is one subject that Allie and I don’t talk too much about. He is her brother after all, so it gets weird. But we’re also best friends. And what’s a best friend if you can’t share your dirty little secrets with her?
At my silence, considering at this moment my mind is confused enough, Allie sighs and continues, “Listen, I know this conversation isn’t one that we want to have, and your relationship with him is totally none of my business, but I’m really worried about you. Darius is not the guy you should be looking to for comfort right now.”
Tied to His Betrayal Page 18