Redeemed: Ruined and Redeemed Duet - Book 2
Page 11
In between dances, Jacobi checks his phone, but he never mentions whether or not there’s news or updates.
In the middle of a slow waltz, his gaze scans the crowd and sticks. He guides us to the edge of the dance floor as I search for the reason why.
The reason is Cannon and he sticks out like a pretzel in a chip factory. His loose Hawaiian shirt is the opposite of what everyone else is wearing, and his baggy shorts are the only ones in the place. The women have their hair secured, the men wear it slicked back, but Cannon’s is just past stylishly long and hand-combed. He lifts his chin at us, his expression grave.
Jacobi twists his fingers in my hand, keeping me close to his side. “What’s going on?”
Cannon’s eyes flash. “Some kid tried to vandalize your car.”
“Random?”
“He claims some old guy gave him a few hundred to key your car and leave a photo.”
Jacobi’s gaze sharpens. “What kind of photo?”
Cannon’s eyes fill with warning. “Later, man. You don’t want to see it here.”
“Of my mother, then?” When Cannon’s jaw doubles down like he’s going to crack granite between his teeth, Jacobi winces. “My dad?”
A curt nod.
“Fuck.” Jacobi grips my hand hard enough to grind bones together, but I don’t say anything. I can’t imagine how bad a photo of his dad could be, but clearly he’s thinking the worst.
I’m so nervous, I nearly shout when Penni’s voice drifts over my shoulder. “You two didn’t quit already, did you?” Her smile weakens as her gaze hits Cannon. Her eyes narrow. “Do I know you?”
Cannon’s face morphs from deadly serious to playful flirting. “You’d never forget me if we’d met before, dancing queen.”
Her eyes harden. “Don’t be too sure of yourself, slick. I’ve forgotten more men than flowers on your shirt.”
“I have a whole closet of shirts with flowers on them.”
“Exactly.” Her flat tone makes my lips twitch. I don’t think Cannon is a guy who gets rejected often. She looks back at me. “See you back out on the floor. I can even keep Jacobi from fleeing if you want to take a few spins with Pierre or Myles. No offense to your man, but dancing with them is an experience.”
For Penni, dancing with others is no different than breathing the same air and I have no issues relinquishing my husband into her care. But with Cannon’s news, we may have to leave.
“Maybe you can take me for a spin while he talks to his friend.” I squeeze Jacobi’s hand and give him a smile. Gratefulness reflects in his eyes as Penni leads me out to dance.
I have no worries that Jacobi will tell me everything later tonight. We have that kind of marriage. With how it started, it wouldn’t work any other way.
Chapter 12
Jacobi
I could’ve predicted it.
Right away this morning, I got a message with nothing but a photo. A clear shot of me and London eating dinner on the beach. She was mid-laugh and I was looking at her like she hung the moon and stars in the shape of my name.
Fuck. Sully knows how much she means to me from this photo alone. If he watched us all night and witnessed for himself how protective I am over her, then he’s only going to work harder from there.
I called Cannon right after I forwarded the message to him.
“I didn’t fucking see him,” was how he answered. “Kase is close to tracking him down since he got out of prison.”
“His parole officer should know where he is.”
“Jake.” Cannon shortened almost everyone’s name. “The point is not to go to prison ourselves. The parole officer won’t buy my credentials.”
“Because they’re fake.”
“Exactly. And Kase needs to stay off the radar. And don’t you dare think of hacking into them. Sully can’t see us coming.”
I won’t because London has asked me not to. “Kase is checking all his old stomping grounds?”
“Done. Sully has a sister around Kernville. He’s checking there.”
If Sully’s staying in Kernville, he’d have to be in Malibu constantly to spy on me. It doesn’t sound right. “He’d need a closer place to get all these shots of London.”
“Which we can track down if we find he’s at his sister’s,” Cannon says slowly like I’m a child. Of course, they already thought of it. I didn’t ask either of them for their help because they were idiots. “By the way, those hearts in your eyes—”
“Fuck off.”
His obnoxious laugh makes me smile. When he settles down, he says, “So, she’s worth doing all this for?”
“She’s so worth it I’m trying to do everything on the right side of the law.”
He whistles. “You’re fucked, man, but it’s all yours. I’ll take a heap of no-thank-you when it comes to that shit.”
“Don’t want to catch a case of the feelings?”
“Taking so many pictures of cheating spouses that I could pay cash for a Porsche if I wanted to does that to a guy.”
I’ve known Cannon since college, and I don’t think he’s gotten close to any of his hookups. “Keep me posted.”
“You’re going to call and nag anyway.”
I hang up as he’s laughing at me, but I’m smiling. Until I stare at the photo.
Who the hell took this? Who was following me so closely they knew when I left the house after days of going nowhere?
My fingers itch to run over the keyboard and find Sully’s parole officer, then cyberstalk the hell out of him. I would park in front of the office and watch for Sully to check in, but that would leave London here, alone.
I’ve given my household staff the month off with pay to make sure they’re not targeted. That leaves London alone enough as it is.
There’s a tap at the door. I flick off my computer screen. I haven’t changed the background, and since it’s obviously a picture from before we met when she was at a fundraising gala, it would be hard to explain.
She enters before I answer. I never lock her out. Shoving her hands in the back pockets of her tiny jean shorts, she leans against the doorjamb.
“Diana’s coming over.”
“Good.” And I mean it.
Anxiety’s written across her face. Her eyes are pensive and her features tight. “She won’t like us together. Not after…”
“What I did?”
She nods.
“What do you think?” If there’s a competition for who hates me the most, she should be the winner.
“I think it’s my decision, I just don’t want…” Tears glimmer in her eyes.
I hold my arms out and she comes to me. I curl her onto my lap. It isn’t a comfortable position for me and it can’t be for her. My office chair is ergonomic but it isn’t a recliner. I wedge my arm between her and the armrest so it won’t dig into her back.
“What don’t you want?” I ask softly.
“To lose her, too.” Her shoulders shake. “Even after everything I learned, I miss my dad.”
Aw, fuck. Her dad died only a little over a year ago. She was a card-carrying daddy’s girl, and this is likely her first major rift with Diana.
I hold her and let her cry. Nothing in my time on computers told me what to do in this type of situation. Both of my parents failed me before they died, but it didn’t stop the staggering loss. London didn’t grow up in that type of environment. Her parents doted on her, gave her everything.
My mom had loved me. Mostly, she’d been too busy trying to survive, but she’d loved me. My dad loved winning. And that was hard for a guy who was a born loser. The combination was destructive. I grew up on cheap packaged food that I bought with money I pilfered off Mom’s nightstand. Her customers often tipped her—for what, I didn’t want to know—but she never told Sully about the extra she made. Just like she never commented on the money I took.
Losing her was devastating. Look how it affected me years later.
And London was going through it only a year after
she lost her dad. I’m a bastard for not considering it earlier.
Her sobs die down and we sit quietly for several minutes. “Sorry.” She wipes her eyes. “I should go clean up before she gets here.”
“Hey, if you ever want to go visit your dad, just say so.” People go to graves, right? That’s what I see on TV.
My parents share a plot at the Veteran’s cemetery. My dad’s three years of army service saved Mom and then later me from financial ruin trying to pay for a funeral. I’ve been there twice. Once for Dad. Once for Mom. Two more times than I ever cared to go.
She presses a salty kiss to my lips before she gets off my lap. “Thank you.”
When she leaves, she shuts the door behind her, and I’m left staring at the wood panel. I don’t visit my own parents’ graves, but I offered to go see the man who helped drive them both to their final resting spots.
What I’ll do for London knows no bounds.
* * *
London
“It was his idea.” I face Diana across the courtyard. She came right over when I called but hasn’t sat down. The fine lines around her eyes have deepened and her hair’s thrown back in a ponytail.
Her red-rimmed eyes are dubious. “He was so intent on driving us apart.”
“That part wasn’t his goal. But I think falling for me made him overhaul everything he thought and assumed.”
“You’re still married.”
I nod. I can’t tell her about the threats he’s getting—the threats against me. “We’re figuring it all out. It’d be really weird to get divorced and then keep seeing each other.”
She arches a finely manicured brow. “You’re a bad liar, London. What’s he doing to you?”
Did I expect this to be easy? “Sit.”
She narrows her eyes. “I’m of half a mind to sneak you out of here, kicking and screaming if I have to.”
I draw back. Diana has never been a heavy-handed parent. Truth be told, lately I wondered if it was because she’d drawn such a distinct line between mother and stepmother. She’s the only mother I know.
“Sit, please. Ask me anything you want.” I plop my ass in a chair first, hoping that’ll sway her.
Her lips thin and she finally does as I ask. “What’s going on, London? Is he brainwashing you?”
“This isn’t a cult. He has, like, two friends.”
“Is that supposed to make me feel better?” She rests her elbows on her knees and sinks her head into one hand. “You know, since it all came out, I’ve been terrified—of what he’s doing to you, what might happen to me, Natural Glow. Roland’s been a rock, but it’s not the same. I keep thinking, Dennis would know what to do.” She rubs her eyes. “For so many years, I worried that you’d find out about the things I’ve done and want nothing to do with me.”
“You know I’m not like that.”
“That you’d want to find your mother and you two would get along and—”
“Diana. She left me.” But I thought about my request to Jacobi. “Okay, I’m curious about her. I want to know how she could leave a kid. I want to know why, hear her side. Not because I want to replace you. You’re the one I made all those tacky Mother’s Day projects for. Want me to start calling you Mom?”
Tears spring into Diana’s eyes. “You’ve always had a generous heart.” She gives me a wavering smile. “It’d be weird after all these years.”
“Remember in first grade when I asked why no one else calls their parents by their first name?” And I realized that I didn’t call my dad Dennis.
“And I said every family is different and that was how we roll.” She falls quiet for a moment, then she nods like we made a boardroom decision. “Now, tell me why you haven’t been to the office. Everyone’s asking if you’re even coming back or plan to work remotely permanently.”
“I plan to come back. It’s just…” Enough with the lies. We’re in this position because of them… my choosing not to tell her about finding my birth mom notwithstanding. “There’s a guy from Jacobi’s past who got out of jail and might use me to get to him.”
Diana blinks owlishly. “Oh. My. Are you all right?”
“Please don’t mention anything. Yes. He’s got people on it, but this guy hurt Jacobi’s mom and he’s just really afraid for me. He won’t say it like that, but I can tell.”
She peers at me until I want to squirm. “You’ve really fallen for him?”
“Yes.” My answer doesn’t change the suspicion rising in her gaze.
“He’s not the same guy from Cabo.”
“He’s not that much different from Jake on the beach.”
Her suffering sigh is all frustrated parent. “Good grief, London. I don’t like this.”
“Just give him a chance. I am.” If he and Diana don’t get along, it’ll break my heart.
Chapter 13
Jacobi
I hear the ladies say goodbye to each other and give it a few minutes before I check on London through the window. She’s in her lounge chair with her computer, back at work. My chest constricts. I love seeing her out there, but not because she’s restricted. I have to get this situation taken care of before she resents me.
There’s a knock on my door. I spin my office chair around, unaware I’m still facing the courtyard. But if London’s out there… then Diana didn’t go straight out the front door.
I open the door. The day of the wedding, she’d been a puddle of non-resistance. She wanted to fight, but was so scared. Now it’s all out there and the set of her jaw and flinty gaze says she has zero fucks to give.
She crosses her arms, glaring at me. “What the hell are you doing with London?”
“Taking care of her.”
“By keeping her locked away from the world? Why aren’t you giving her a divorce?”
So, we’re getting to the heart of the matter. No chit-chat. “Did you ask her if she wants one?” Because I sure as hell don’t. Diana’s questions are too much like the ones that haunt me in those moments before I’m fully awake. Those moments where I wonder how long this can last.
“I’m asking you. Do you care for her?”
“Yes.” I can answer that without hesitating.
Diana tilts her head like she’s used to hearing men say things they don’t mean. “Do you care for her beyond the bedroom?”
What the hell? “Our private life is none of your—”
“That’s where you’re wrong. She’s my business. She’s the most important thing in my life and if she’s not for you, then you’d better walk away and do it gently so she’s not torn apart.”
I clench my jaw. I can’t fault her for looking after London. “I don’t plan on walking away.” Ever.
“Even if it’d keep her safe?” Diana’s lips purse like she’s debating over whether to say something. Lucky me, she goes for it. “I didn’t know your parents, but Jacobi, I knew of them. While your dad trusted the wrong person with money, it was only a matter of time before his actions hurt all of you. I can’t help but feel that you’re the same.”
My body goes rigid. “I can assure you that my actions won’t result in London getting sold for sex by some bookie.” As I say it, my blood runs cold. Isn’t that exactly what I’m trying to keep from happening to London now?
For fuck’s sake. She’s in danger and it’s all because of me. If I kept to stalking her from afar, she’d be out there, getting too attached too quickly to some guy who doesn’t deserve her. All she would’ve missed out on was an in-your-face to her ex like at the movies. That’s all I’d been able to do for her.
Diana’s too smart. She picks up on the same thoughts. “How is that different from the kind of danger you’ve gotten my girl into?”
“I can take care of it.”
“Then do it,” she hisses.
She might’ve detested my methods before, but I have a feeling that she’d welcome all of my dubious computer skills to help London. “I will. I am. But London asked me to keep it all legal.”
Diana storms down the hall, her heels shattering my clarity. I stand in the doorway, thinking long and hard about our talk. Mostly, I try to keep from coming to the same obvious solution over and over again.
Don’t let her pay for falling for you.
In the end, it was no use. Diana’s words sink in. I have to call Mr. Turlowitz.
* * *
London
I race upstairs after my meeting. After crying on Jacobi’s lap, I didn’t go to see him right away after Diana left because I was afraid of a repeat.
I tap on his door and walk in, still in awe that he has no issues with me doing that.
He glances up from his screen, his expression bleak, defeat in his eyes.
“Is there something wrong?”
He doesn’t say anything, just unfolds his big body out of the chair and crosses to me. The way he stares at me makes me feel like the most precious jewel in the world. Like I’m valuable and unique and he can’t get enough of me.
“Jacobi. What’s going on?”
“It’s been… a day.” He leans down and captures my lips.
I kiss him back, but the need rolling off him in waves sends shudders through me. I twine my arms around his neck, and he wastes no time wrapping his arms around my waist and hoisting me up.
My legs automatically curl around his hips, but we don’t go anywhere. We kiss in the doorway like we’d both suffocate if we let go.
He consumes me. Fire rages through my veins, scorching my flesh, leaving behind Jacobi’s invisible brand.
My body temperature rises until I squirm and he finally moves, carrying me down the hallway to the master bedroom with long, sure strides. I half-expect to fuck in the hallway, right on the floor, or up against the wall, but he lays me in the middle of the bed as carefully as he’d set a porcelain figure in a glass case.