by C. C. Brown
"What about you? Where do you go from here?" I asked, taking a tissue to wipe away my loose tears.
"That's why I'm in San Diego. I had to come face to face with my sister and let her know exactly what I think of her. We're family, but that's in name only. I'm breaking free of all of this toxicity. I don't want Abby growing up in such filth."
"What about Jacob?"
"Jacob and I are done. I moved out about a week ago and I took Abby with me. I have him and Mr. Bradley down my neck, but I can't do it anymore. I won't do it anymore."
"What about Abby?"
"Abby is with my mom right now. I've made friends over the years with some pretty good lawyers myself, so I have no fears that he'll be able to take her away from me."
She had a look of confidence in her eyes and I could tell that she meant business. I wholeheartedly sympathized with her and everything she had been through over the years, even if some of it was her own fault. The Bradleys wielded a world of dominance and power that was difficult to break free from.
"Sorry to spring this on you so early in the morning, Cara. I would have called ahead, but I was afraid that you wouldn't see me, and I had to clear this up with you."
"It's okay. Thanks for coming, Heather. I really do appreciate it," I replied, feeling the earlier twinge in my stomach subside. I made my way around the desk and hugged her tightly.
"He loves you, Cara. I saw how broken he was that night. He truly loves you," she whispered into my ear.
We pulled apart and smiled affectionately at one another. She turned and walked out the door, and I sat down in the chair she had occupied, staring at the walls.
<>
Driving home from work, Heather's words replayed over and over in my head. Imagining Jason's childhood made my heart hurt, and it explained a hell of a lot about him, but I still wasn't sure I wanted anything to do with him. It had been so difficult having to stand there and be used as a pawn in Jacob's and Stacey's game, but it was even worse having it done in front of a room full of people. In the days after the nightmarish incident, I'd wondered why Jason didn't just tell me before-hand. Sure the information was surprising and vomit-worthy, but it would have been so much better to talk it through before his devious brother had the chance to spill the beans. I just needed to get home and have a nice glass of wine, or two.
Chelsea was parading around the kitchen area when I walked through the door. Looking worn out after an emotionally taxing day, I waved a lethargic hello in her direction, and she stopped and stared at me quizzically. I didn't want to stop moving until I made my way up to my room, so even though my appearance had caught her attention, I trudged along until I made it up the stairs, into my room, and onto my bed. Hitting the bed, I released a loud exhale, and felt a tad bit better.
Chelsea walked into my room shortly after, with two glasses of wine in her hands and a half smile on her face.
"What's the matter? Italian Stallion riding you hard or what?" She joked, but I was too exhausted to laugh. I sat up and gave her back the half smile she had given me. She walked further into the room, handing me a glass of wine as she took a seat on the foot of my bed.
I turned to her, my eyes droopy, and I watched as concern permeated her face. She didn't say anything, but the silence spoke volumes, and I knew she was looking for an explanation.
I took a sip of the wine before saying a word; I felt the need for liquid courage in order to wade through the murky waters that Heather's tale had brought with it.
"I had a visitor at work today," I said, in a dry, monotone voice.
Concern instantly dipped into anxiety as I watched the muscles in Chelsea's face twitch.
"Who?" she asked, surely afraid that I would say Jason.
"Heather."
I watched as anxiety slowly faded away and curiosity crept in. Chelsea was never good at hiding her emotions, and since what I had to say loosely dealt with Jason, her emotions were on full display.
"The freakin' door mat?" she asked, rolling her eyes as she said it.
I cocked my head to the side and gave her a perturbed look.
"Chels, knock it off." She threw her hands up in a sign of surrender. "She actually came and laid out the truth to all of Jacob's horse shit."
"And?" she asked, raising her eyebrows in a speculative manner.
"And, I believe her."
Chelsea turned and sat cross-legged on my bed, listening intently as I told her the story that I had been replaying over and over in my head since Heather left my office. Chelsea listened attentively, never interrupting, and occasionally gawking at the details of the story--that was a first for her. I had to stop a couple of times as I told the story, especially at the parts of Jason's treatment by his father. It made me incredibly sad and even a bit angry. My dad was the epitome of what a father should be. He was loving, caring, and willing to let us fail, but always there to pick us up when we faltered. Mr. Bradley was a monster. While his motives behind his treatment of Jason were still unknown, they were in no way fair, nor were they acceptable.
I finished up the story to a stunned and open-mouthed Chelsea. I couldn't believe she was looking at me through bulged out eyes and unable to formulate words. She shook her head and ran her fingers through her hair. I motioned for her to finally say something, anything.
"I'm sorry, Cara. I honestly don't know what to say." She ran her hands through her hair again.
"I didn't know either, but I definitely believe everything she said."
"Oh I do, too," Chelsea quickly said. "Especially the part about her spawn of Satan sister. I don't think I have ever seen such an evil bitch in my life."
For the first time in what felt like days, I laughed a hard genuine laugh that rumbled in my belly.
"Well, good for her. Jacob is the equivalent of rat shit on a rotten day. Come to think of it, he and the female Lucifer belong together. They're all so fucked up. They just might end up together."
A sting hit my chest at the thought. It wasn't that I cared what became of them, but the thought of just how toxic the environment of the Bradley and Miller families was, almost sickened me. That there was a realistic possibility that Stacey and Jacob could very well end up together.
I shook my head to clear me from my thoughts and took a long sip of my wine before saying, "I don't really care what becomes of them. I'm just glad I know a little more about the bullshit."
"I think it speaks volumes that even Heather says that Stacey's baby isn't Jason's. She's a fucking serpent, Cara. Don't believe her bullshit."
I feigned shock and asked, "Are you sticking up for Jason, Chels?"
"No," she quickly answered, before taking a large gulp of her wine, "I'm just pointing out the truth. I never believed that bimbo, and you shouldn't either."
"I know," I said sheepishly, feeling a little naïve for ever believing Stacey in the first place. "But I don't know what to think about Jason, either."
"Well, you know more about him. He was probably super embarrassed to fill you in on all of that shit. I know I would have been." She chuckled, but the intensity of my gaze on her made her stop.
"It's not funny. I feel really bad for him," I said, coming to his defense.
"I do too. Honestly, but, this doesn't mean you have to run back to him and help him through his shit. He did you wrong, and hopefully he won't do this to the next girl."
The next girl. Even though I couldn't picture myself back in Jason's arms, it pained me to hear Chelsea insinuate that Jason would be moving on. I couldn't see myself with him, but certainly didn't want to see or even hear about him being with anyone else. I threw back the remaining wine in my glass and tucked my hair behind my ears.
"Chels, I don't know what I think about Jason, but I damn sure don't want to hear about him being with other girls."
"Whatever. What about my engagement party? Are you bringing Italian Stallion? I want to meet him."
"No," I said deliberately. "I'm not taking anyone; I already told you that."
"Okay, okay. But please, if a nice guy comes along--say a guy named Chase--you won't immediately close the door."
"Chels, have you forgotten about my history with Chase?" I asked, hoping to refresh her memory.
"I know. But it's been so long, and you two are in a much better place." She paused and looked sternly at me. "You deserve to be happy, and I think--no, I know--he'll make you happy"
I paused and looked at her before saying, "I'm not into Chase like that--and I don't want to hear any more about it."
She shrugged her shoulders and rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Then make sure I meet Stallion soon." She threw me a mischievous smile before leaning over to hit my leg.
I was in no mood to focus on the numerous, annoying people occupying my thoughts. Heather's story had really hit me hard, and as much as I wanted to forget about Jason, I found myself being pulled closer and closer back to him.
Chapter 10
Chelsea and Hunter's engagement party would be the party to end all parties--her mom made sure of that. I spent all of yesterday afternoon searching for the perfect dress, only to wind up at the same store that was always my savior in a pinch. Luckily, I'd been given a half day yesterday, since William said we didn't have anything too important to work on before Monday of the following week. As any girl would do, I used that time to shop and get my nails done. Chelsea's parents were old money. Her family had been swimming in money since her great-grandparents, and this affair was not to be taken lightly.
Rolling through the hills of La Jolla brought back memories of traveling to Jason's house. After listening to Heather's story a couple of days ago, the anger and apprehension that normally intruded my mind, whenever thoughts of him came about, weren't there. I had even passed by his street to get to The Peters' residence, and while I did see the For Sale sign in the yard, the only thing I felt was a pang of hurt. My mind was so conflicted at the moment. I was still very hurt from, being lied to, deceived, and publicly humiliated, but I was also feeling very sympathetic for Jason. I could somewhat understand why he wouldn't want to fill me in on all of the ins and outs of his family. They were a kooky bunch, and I probably would have ended up a tad bit fucked up if I had been raised around them, too.
Arriving at the Peters' home was like pulling up to a royal affair. There were luxury cars that could be seen for miles, women and men dressed to the nines, and even chauffeurs dropping off some of the more prestigious guests. I sat in my car for a few minutes, waiting for Ryan and Mila to arrive. My dad had to work and the original plan was for my mom to come with them, but since she was sick, they would be coming alone.
They finally pulled up and Mila got out of the car, sauntering over to me in four inch, black and white stilettos that made her long legs look even more impossibly gorgeous. She wore a flapper style, white dress, and looking over to Ryan I realized, they matched perfectly. His all-black suit paired with a white tie, was the perfect complement to Mila. I didn't match them at all. I had decided on a dark green strapless dress, and while it certainly fit the occasion, standing next to a matching Mila and Ryan made me feel like I had somehow missed the memo.
Mr. and Mrs. Peters stood at the door greeting guests as they made their way in. We stopped, exchanged pleasantries, and made our way into their exquisitely large home, taking glasses of champagne from the servers along the way. The light from the numerous chandeliers that hung overhead glinted off the freshly polished marble that flanked the floors. I had never seen so many bouquets of roses and calla lilies, but considering they were Chelsea's favorite flowers, it shouldn't have surprised me to see them in excess.
Scouring through the crowd of people, we finally found Chelsea and Hunter, surrounded by what looked to be a hoard of her parents' friends. Chelsea looked excessively bored, but smiled and nodded her head to at least fake interest. As she glanced around the room, our eyes locked and a smile spread across her face. She quickly excused herself and made her way over to the three of us, looking radiant in an all-white and lace, strapless dress. To any other person, this could have been a very nice, semi-formal wedding dress, but for Chelsea Peters, this was just another party dress. She wrapped me in her arms and the smell of vanilla and jasmine enveloped me. Hunter came strolling up shortly after, and after Chelsea finally let go, he gave a nice, warm hug as well.
"So glad to see you all. Looking beautiful as ever," she said, smiling warmly at Ryan, Mila, and me.
"You look like you're at your fucking wedding already, Chelsea. I can't wait to see what the actual wedding dress looks like," Mila threw out, stating my earlier thoughts.
"My mom picked this dress out. I think I'm going to throw her off the damn La Jolla cliff before we actually get to my wedding day. She is driving me nuts."
Hunter laughed, but quickly stopped as Chelsea shot him a death stare.
"Anyway, I have to mingle with more of these people. But there's food on the far side of the yard and plenty of champagne flowing around. I'll catch up with you all later." She smiled, and pulled Hunter back into the sea of people waiting to shower them with hugs, kisses, and well wishes.
The fruit bar housed an assortment of exotic fruits. The Peters' were world travelers and had probably had all of the fruit flown in from various locales around the world. Mila and Ryan decided to go for the ice cream bar instead of fruit, so I was left to myself, waiting patiently in line, when I felt a hand on my shoulder.
"You look stunning," Chase said, smiling brightly down on me.
"So do you. How are you?"
"Doing well." He paused and looked around. "Who are you here with?"
"Mila and my brother. Who did you come with?"
"Just me and my lonesome."
I nodded my head, not exactly sure how to answer that. Chase looked impeccable, but the black and white memo must have been lost on him as well because he stood before me in tan khaki pants and a red button-up. In fact, I think he missed the entire memo on just how formal the Peters' events could be. He didn't seem at all fazed by the fact that he was the most casual person in attendance, so I didn't see the need to point it out to him.
We grabbed our fruit bowls and made our way to the open grass field, standing next to Willow trees that had been decorated in blinking white lights. I caught Mila's attention from afar, and she stood watching me and Chase, her eyes in a low, suspicious gaze. She never smiled, and even tapped Ryan's shoulder, breaking him from his own conversation to point out my company to him. He looked over, but gave an impassive glare, never sinking to Mila's level, and then returning to his earlier conversation. Chase filled me in on all things Bradley, saying that he had only seen Jason once, but that work was draining and exciting all at the same time. I tried to be excited for him, but I was still leery of the fact that he was interning at Bradley in the first place. As he filled me in on some big speaking conference he was hoping to go to, I watched as his eyes shifted and followed someone walking up behind me.
"Well. No wonder you're so stand-offish with me. You have a boyfriend." I heard the familiar voice of Damian say.
I turned to find his beautiful greenish-grey eyes sparkling at me, as a seductive smile crept across his face.
"Hello to you, too, Damian. And no, I don't have a boyfriend. This is my friend, Chase."
I watched as the two shook hands, but Damian quickly turned his attention back to me.
"Who are you a guest of, Cara?"
"Chelsea is my best friend. Who do you know?" I asked, my question coming off rather brash, but I didn't care. I needed to make sure he wasn't stalking me.
He laughed at the crudeness of my tone. "Hunter's family has done my family's taxes for years."
"So you know Hunter?" I asked, narrowing my eyes at him, and trying to figure out if he had somehow conspired with Hunter. My senses were on high alert after having dealt with Jason.
"No. Not really. I may have met him once or twice, but that's it. My parents are here, so I figured I'd tag along. Lucky for me that I did, right?
" He smiled. I could see the twinkle in his eye as he did so.
"Excuse me, how do you two know each other?" Chase asked, looking a bit annoyed that he was being ignored.
"Damian is the owner of The San Diego Tide, the team whose marketing campaign I'm working on."
"Oh, okay," he responded, trying to stay engaged in the conversation.
Mila and Ryan finally broke free from their conversations and made their way over to where we were standing, completely ignoring Chase and eyeing Damian cautiously.
"Hey, man, I'm Ryan, Cara's brother."
"Nice to meet family. I'm Damian. Cara and I work together."
"Then what brings you here?" Mila asked accusatorially.
"Nice to meet you too," Damian joked. "My and Hunter's family go way back."
"Oh, okay." Mila responded, with the snooty pout of her lips.
"This is Mila by the way," I threw out, since she seemed in no mood for formal introductions with Damian.
"Well, damn. The real party is over here next to the Willow tree!" Chelsea shouted, walking hurriedly in our direction. She stopped and gave Chase a hug before landing her eyes on Damian and throwing her mouth into a catty smirk. "Who the hell might you be?"
I cringed. Chelsea, even in all of the luxury surrounding her, could be so outlandishly crass at times.
"The name's Damian. Damian Rossi." He purred his name, almost as if he were trying to seduce her with it.
Chelsea's eyes lit up. "Oh, shit. You're the Italian Stallion."
I felt my face heat and I immediately looked to Damian, who was now wearing a proud smile on his face.
"You're the soon to be Mrs. James?" he asked, taking Chelsea's hand and kissing the top.
"You're damn right," she responded, flashing him an overly large grin. She turned at the sound of footsteps and found Hunter strolling up beside her.
"Do I know you?" he asked Damian, stretching his hand out for a shake. His face looked confused, but he was still cordial.