The Twin Contract (The Contract Series Book 1)
Page 26
It had been so stupid. But he had been in the con artist zone as his parents dubbed it, where he'd convinced himself every detail of the con was real. Immersed himself so deeply so Brianna's father wouldn't have a reason to go back on ending the contract early. It had worked. Too well. And now Jackson was paying the price.
He had told Brianna that he could get lost in his parents' cons so she would understand what he might happen. But never in his wildest dreams did he think he would use Briony's name while expressing his feelings to Brianna. They were nothing alike.
But after being continuously told how inferior she was compared to her sister, this might kill their relationship. Or set it back to the ice age. He had to make sure the pain he caused her didn't grow into obstacles. If they did, he was set on ripping every one of them apart. He would not let one word keep him from the woman he loved. Even if the word happened to be a name.
* * * *
Jackson's cab pulled up to the hospital entrance. Grabbing his bag, he stepped from the car, never hearing it drive away. His mind was deeply rooted in the past as he gathered the courage to walk through the electric doors. He didn't feel the warmth of the summer sun as it rose behind him. Nor did he hear the people who brushed by him and headed through the glass doors to seek out their loved ones. His mind was in another place and another time.
He loathed hospitals almost as much as con artists. Every con his parents worked in the summer started with Jackson in the hospital. He hated those cons the most and was always surprised when they began again. The school year lulled him into a false sense of security. Regular meals, regular school activities that his parents made sure to sign him up for, and his mother always hung around to socialize with all the rich wives.
The first year Jackson had thought his parents had finally changed. But then summer would start, and they would begin starving him to make it look like he was losing weight because of an illness.
A therapist Ray had taken him to had said his parents had Munchausen syndrome. The second Ray discovered what the therapist said he changed Jackson's therapist after calling the man a quack. Jackson wasn't stupid he knew his parents didn't have a mental illness. No, their drug of choice was cash. The more they had the more they craved.
Jackson had shared a lot with Brianna but that piece, the hospitals, he hadn't shared. Couldn't share. He didn't think she would understand, and he didn't have the words to describe those few months of torture.
Shaking off the memories that worked to keep him into their web, Jackson strode toward the doors with deliberate steps. He couldn't conquer his fear but he damed well wouldn't let it control him. Sweat slicked his back as he stepped into the icy air-conditioned building and made his way to the information desk. After showing ID, he was given Ray's room number and directions.
Jackson hurried to his father's room and found Tristan with his head cocked back at a ridiculous angle as he snored away. His lanky body sprawled out in the most uncomfortable looking plastic chair. Jackson found his first smile as he dug out his cell to snap a picture. Only to find his cell phone dead.
Shit! What if Brianna had tried to call him? Stepping into the room, he set his bag on the floor and dug out his charger. But when he plugged his phone in it was blank. No calls, no texts. Nothing from her.
A touch to his shoulder made him jump and swing only to freeze before his fist connected with Tristan's jaw. Tristan jerked back. "Jesus, man what has you so jumpy?"
Jackson shook his head while stepping around Tristan into the hall. He walked to the seating area hoping they hadn't woken his dad.
"It's her isn't it?" Tristan asked, and Jackson turned to face his friend.
"Her?"
"Yeah, the woman who's coming to the July Fourth thing." Tristan scratched his jaw. "I mean if we're still having it."
"Why wouldn't…" Jackson released a frustrated huff. "Forget about that for a minute and tell me about Dad."
"Oh," Tristan frowned. "Shit, sorry. Ray is going to be fine. Erin was with him when he went down."
"Went down from what? Was it a heart attack for sure? Or a stroke?"
"No, it was a heart attack. The doctor says Ray needs to layoff the cholesterol and exercise more but he should recover just fine."
Jackson's gaze narrowed on the man in the bed. "Heart attack? Dad? He rarely eats junk and he works out. Hell, when I wanted popsicles he always had the homemade ones squeezed from fresh fruit."
"I know. But he's kind of let himself go lately."
"Depression?"
Tristan shrugged.
"Wait. Why are you in Chicago?"
Tristan crossed his arms. "Why wouldn't I be here?"
"Because you're going through a messy divorce—"
"It became messier and my lawyer suggested I get out of town for a bit. And when I called the pub to drop in on Ray one of the servers filled me in on what happened." Tristan stepped back and lifted his arms waist high. "So here I am."
"At least a heart attack isn't a stroke, right? So he can talk and stuff."
"That's what the docs said. He just needs to watch what he eats and destress."
Relief poured into Jackson at hearing his dad would recover. "He needs to get rid of the pub."
"Good luck with that," Tristan said slumping into one of the chairs.
"I know. He wants to pass it down to me." Jackson got it. The pub held a lot of Ray's family history. His grandfather started it as a place for the cops and firemen to hang out and Ray's father took it over when he retired from the force. And when Ray retired he took the day to day management on. "But there is no way I'm moving back here. Brianna's entire life is in Alabama and Chicago holds too many memories."
Tristan tossed a smirk at Jackson. "Is that the woman coming to the Fourth shindig?"
"First, who says shindig anymore—"
"I do—"
"And second, yes."
"You love her."
Jackson nodded. "I do. But I fucked up big time."
"Okay, we'll get to your fuck up in a second. Let's deal with the pub. Erin wants to run her own kitchen."
"I know, when she gets the money together she's going to leave the pub which means no manager and Ray will be stuck doing even more—"
Tristan held up a hand stopping Jackson. "Me and Rafe have an idea. How about all three of us go in together and buy the building next to the pub. We do a complete overhaul to incorporate an addition of a dining area and set the current pub area up with a bit more space for darts and pool tables. Eric could stay there and we could have her buy into a piece of it so she's got a stake in making it work—"
"But Rafe hates Chicago… I mean—" Jackson rubbed a hand over his eyes. "He won't come back here."
"Anymore than you want to visit. Can you blame him? His dad died here."
"Because of my parents," Jackson whispered.
"Yes, your parents." Tristan stood abruptly and gripped Jackson's shoulders to shake him. "But not you. You, he still claims as his brother. But I can handle the trips here. My mom and dad still live here—"
Jackson's mind whirled. "Rafe only invests in start ups."
"Not true, he has a few long term investments and I've already talked to him. He wants in on the pub."
"Okay, then."
Tristan grinned. "Yeah?"
"Hell, yeah. If my two brothers are in then you know I'm in." The smile slipped into a frown as Jackson met Tristan's brown gaze. "But we've gotta convince Ray."
"No worries. I talked to him before you got here. He thinks it's a great idea. And he even said he's got to watch more westerns since things are serious with Brianna." Tristan frowned. "Things are still serious right? I mean, you said you fucked up but that shouldn't stop you from loving her."
"Oh, it hasn't. Come on let's go check on Dad. If he's still asleep I'll buy you a cup of coffee and breakfast in the cafeteria while I tell you what I did."
Tristan clapped Jackson on the shoulder. "Lead the way, I'm sure it can't be that
bad."
"I told her I love her."
Tristan jerked Jackson to face him a big grin stretched across his face. "That's great." The grin slid into a frown as the silence stretched. "It is great, right?"
"I told her I loved her and then called her by her dead twin sister's name."
Tristan stared at Jackson his jaw hanging open.
"Say something," Jackson snapped guilt and worry putting him on edge.
"Dude, I don't think they have flowers for that."
"Screw you, Tris. Like you would have done any better after the week I've had."
"Brianna is her name, right? I don't want to be using the wrong name when I meet her."
"Brianna is her damned name." Jackson shoved him out of the way and stomped off.
"No, seriously. We can fix this," Tristan said racing to Jackson's side. "First, Ray. Then you need to do some serious groveling. Maybe explain about your parents brainwashing-slash-training—"
"She knows." They arrived back at Ray's room, and Jackson stopped in the doorway. "Thanks for having my back and watching out for Ray."
"Anytime. And I'll help you fix it with Brianna. I have no idea how yet, but we'll think of something."
Jackson found his first smile. He heard Ray groan from the bed and turned to face the man that chose to take on an angry, hurt twelve-year-old and loved him in spite of the evil his parents used him for.
"Son, glad you came but there wasn't a need. I'm fine," Ray croaked in the semi-darkness.
"Yeah, you look it." Jackson took the chair Tristan had been napping in. "Tris tells me you want to sell the pub and become a cowboy."
"I hate hospital gowns and as for Tristan, he talks too much." Ray tucked the covers around himself as his gaze darted. "For a lawyer that's not a good quality."
"Screw both of you. I'm a real estate attorney not some big time court room lawyer." He turned. "And me and Jacks were headed to get some breakfast. You want anything?"
"No, they're putting the stent in today so no food." Ray sighed. "But while you two are gone. I'm going to catch a bit more sleep. It's too early for a bunch of damned yapping. Especially, without my coffee."
Jackson patted Ray's arm and stood. "If you need me call Tristan's cell. Mine is on the charger right now."
Ray tossed a thumbs up at them and closed his eyes.
"Come on, Jacks, let's go figure out the best way for you to grovel. But first you need to tell me the entire story."
Jackson groaned but followed Tristan's retreating back to the elevator.
* * * *
Jackson's cab pulled up to the hospital entrance. Grabbing his bag, he stepped from the car, never hearing it drive away. His mind was deeply rooted in the past as he gathered the courage to walk through the electric doors. He didn't feel the warmth of the summer sun as it rose behind him. Nor did he hear the people who brushed by him and headed through the glass doors to seek out their loved ones. His mind was in another place, and another time.
He loathed hospitals almost as much as con artists. Every con his parents worked in the summer started with Jackson in the hospital. He hated those cons the most and was always surprised when they began again. The school year lulled him into a false sense of security. Regular meals, regular school activities that his parents signed him up for, and his mother always hung around to socialize with all the rich wives.
The first year Jackson had thought his parents had finally changed. But then summer would start, and they would begin starving him to make it look like he was losing weight because of an illness.
A therapist Ray had taken him to had said his parents had Munchausen syndrome. The second Ray discovered what the therapist said he changed Jackson's therapist after calling the man a quack. Jackson wasn't stupid; he knew his parents didn't have a mental illness. No, their drug of choice was cash. The more they had, the more they craved.
Jackson had shared a lot with Brianna, but that piece, the hospitals, he hadn't shared. Couldn't share. He didn't think she would understand, and he didn't have the words to describe those few months of torture.
Shaking off the memories that worked to keep him into their web, Jackson strode toward the doors with deliberate steps. He couldn't conquer his fear, but he damned well wouldn't let it control him. Sweat slicked his back as he stepped into the icy air-conditioned building and made his way to the information desk. After showing ID, he was given Ray's room number and directions.
Jackson hurried to his father's room and found Tristan with his head cocked back at a ridiculous angle as he snored away. His lanky body sprawled out in the most uncomfortable looking plastic chair. Jackson found his first smile as he dug out his cell to snap a picture. Only to find his cell phone dead.
Shit! What if Brianna had tried to call him? Stepping into the room, he set his bag on the floor and dug out his charger. But when he plugged his phone in, it was blank. No calls, no texts. Nothing from her.
A touch to his shoulder made him jump and swing only to freeze before his fist connected with Tristan's jaw. Tristan jerked back. "Jesus, man, what has you so jumpy?"
Jackson shook his head while stepping around Tristan into the hall. He walked to the seating area, hoping they hadn't woken his dad.
"It's her, isn't it?" Tristan asked, and Jackson turned to face his friend.
"Her?"
"Yeah, the woman who's coming to the July Fourth thing." Tristan scratched his jaw. "I mean, if we still have it."
"Why wouldn't…" Jackson released a frustrated huff. "Forget about that for a minute and tell me about Dad."
"Oh," Tristan frowned. "Shit, sorry. Ray is going to be fine. Erin was with him when he went down."
"Went down from what? Was it a heart attack for sure? Or a stroke?"
"No, it was a heart attack. The doctor says Ray needs to layoff the cholesterol and exercise more, but he should recover just fine."
Jackson's gaze narrowed on the man in the bed. "Heart attack? Dad? He rarely eats junk, and he works out. Hell, when I wanted popsicles, he always had the homemade ones squeezed from fresh fruit."
"I know. But he's kind of let himself go lately."
"Depression?"
Tristan shrugged.
"Wait. Why are you in Chicago?"
Tristan crossed his arms. "Why wouldn't I be here?"
"Because you're going through a messy divorce—"
"It became messier, and my lawyer suggested I get out of town for a bit. And when I called the pub to drop in on Ray a server filled me in on what happened." Tristan stepped back and lifted his arms waist-high. "So here I am."
"At least a heart attack isn't a stroke, right? So he can talk and stuff."
"That's what the docs said. He just needs to watch what he eats and destress."
Relief poured into Jackson at hearing his dad would recover. "He needs to get rid of the pub."
"Good luck with that," Tristan said, slumping into the guest chair.
"I know. He wants to pass it down to me." Jackson got it. The pub held a lot of Ray's family history. His grandfather started it as a place for the cops and firemen to hang out, and Ray's father took it over when he retired from the force. And when Ray retired, he took the day to day management on. "But there is no way I'm moving back here. Brianna's entire life is in Alabama, and Chicago holds too many memories."
Tristan tossed a smirk at Jackson. "Is that the woman coming to the Fourth shindig?"
"First, who says shindig anymore—"
"I do—"
"And second, yes."
"You love her."
Jackson nodded. "I do. But I fucked up big time."
"Okay, we'll get to your fuck up in a second. Let's deal with the pub. Erin wants to run her own kitchen."
"I know, when she gets the money together she's planning to leave the pub which means no manager and Ray will be stuck doing even more—"
Tristan held up a hand, stopping Jackson. "Rafe and I have an idea. How about all three of us go in together and bu
y the building next to the pub. We do a complete overhaul to incorporate an addition with a dining area and set the current pub area up with a bit more space for darts and pool tables. Erin could stay there, and we could have her buy into a piece of it, so she's got a stake in making it work—"
"But Rafe hates Chicago… I mean—" Jackson rubbed a hand over his eyes. "He won't come back here."
"Anymore than you want to visit. Can you blame him? His dad died here."
"Because of my parents," Jackson whispered.
"Yes, your parents." Tristan stood abruptly and gripped Jackson's shoulders to shake him. "But not you. You, he still claims as his brother. But I can handle the trips here. My mom and dad still live here—"
Jackson's mind whirled. "Rafe only invests in startups."
"Not true, he has a few long term investments, and I've already talked to him. He wants in on the pub."
"Okay, then."
Tristan grinned. "Yeah?"
"Hell, yeah. If my two brothers are in, then you know I'm in." The smile slipped into a frown as Jackson met Tristan's brown gaze. "But, we've gotta convince Ray."
"No worries. I talked to him before you got here. He thinks it's a great idea. And he even said he's got to watch more westerns since things are serious with Brianna." Tristan frowned. "Things are still serious, right? I mean, you said you fucked up, but that shouldn't stop you from loving her."
"Oh, it hasn't. Come on, let's go check on Dad. If he's still asleep, I'll buy you a cup of coffee and breakfast in the cafeteria while I tell you what I did."
Tristan clapped Jackson on the shoulder. "Lead the way, I'm sure it can't be that bad."
"I told her I love her."
Tristan jerked Jackson to face him; a big grin stretched across his face. "That's great." The smile slid into a frown as the silence stretched. "It is great, right?"
"I told her I loved her and then called her by her dead twin sister's name."
Tristan stared at Jackson, his jaw hanging open.
"Say something," Jackson snapped guilt and worry putting him on edge.