The Rivals

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The Rivals Page 30

by Allen , Dylan


  “Until my uncle brought this up.” Understanding dawns. “Shit. You think somehow, he raised me as his own, but I’m not?” I ask her.

  “Honestly, until today, I did think just that. I was sure that the test would come back proving you were not your father’s son. But him filing this second motion, to have you removed, says he’s not one hundred percent sure of his position. Otherwise, he would just let the DNA test results take you out. That’s why I want to try and buy you as much good will as possible. If you are his son, then I want you to be able to fight the other charges. It’s important that you maintain an unimpeachable public reputation.”

  “No, I need to focus on maintaining my unimpeachable private reputation. The woman I love and who I plan on asking to spend the rest of my life with was almost raped today. I don’t care if I get to be the chairman of the board of a company that would turn its back on people who have been harmed by its negligence. I don’t. That will not be my legacy. I have my own money. I have my own fucking name. And I have a woman who I love more than anything that I need to keep safe. I need to focus on that right now,” I tell her.

  “I think distance could keep her safe. And you, too.” I dismiss her and decide to end the conversation because I’m desperate to get to Confidence and see how she’s feeling. I take my keys, phone, and wallet from the small envelope they brought in with my clothes.

  “Let me know what the DNA test says, Amelia. But honestly, I am about done with this family and its shit. I’m not the head of it. I’m just the next in a line of men who have been puppets controlled by the whims of a man who has been dead for a hundred years. That doesn’t make me a ruler or king or leader. I’m just filler.”

  “Hayes, don’t make hasty decisions.”

  “I’m not making any decisions. For once in my life, I just really don’t give a shit,”

  I tell her and walk out.

  She’s waiting on a bench by the back door that leads to the exit. She’s curled up, her legs tucked underneath her, her hands wedged between her thighs. Her head is bent. She looks so small, and as I get closer I can see can see a bruise on her arm. My gut knots. The door slams shut behind me and she looks up in my direction, her eyes wide at first and then softening with relief when she sees me.

  “Hey, baby,” I say as I start toward her. She jumps off the bench and runs toward me. Her arms are pumping, her hair flies behind her, and her face is a mask of determination as she launches herself into my open arms.

  “Hayes,” she breathes my name into my neck. She’s trembling and squeezing my neck so tightly that I almost can’t breathe. But I would rather die than let her go. My heart is in my throat as I stand there with her in my arms. Her heart thuds against my chest and she cries quietly. Her tears soak my t-shirt and I feel frustrated at my powerlessness.

  “I’ve been so scared, Hayes,” she whispers against my neck.

  “I’m so sorry, Tesoro.” My ribs feel two sizes too small for my body.

  She’s been alone all day. I hate that she felt a moment of fear. I hate that she had to worry about me on top of all of that.

  I walk us out just like that to the SUV that Amelia ordered for me. It’s nearly two in the morning and the few reporters who are still hanging around waiting for me to be released are snoozing when we step out. They all wake up when the door closes, but the driver has the door to my car open and we’re inside before more than a few camera flashes catch us.

  As soon as the door closes, I raise the privacy screen. I try to put her down on the seat next to me, but she won’t let go. She’s trembling. I cup her face and find her cheeks wet with tears.

  Cold dread fills me. I thought I’d gotten there in time.

  “Baby, did he …?” I can’t bring myself to finish the question.

  “No.” She shakes her head. In the dark of the car, I can’t see her face, so I reach up to turn on the overhead lights. She puts a hand on mine and says, “please, don’t,”

  “Why?” I bring my arm down and cup her cheek. She nestles her face and her breath brushes my skin in warm puffs. “I’m just so happy to be with you. That you came for me. It was fucking awful. I haven’t been that scared in a very long time,” she whispers.

  “Oh, baby.” I feel so fucking useless.

  “So, thank you, Hayes. You’ve saved me twice now,” she says and then climbs down from my lap. She rests her head on my shoulder and by the time we’re pulling up to the valet at The Ivy, she’s fast asleep. I carry her up to her apartment.

  She doesn’t stir as I put her in bed. I lock her door behind me and tell the doorman that no one should be allowed up without her okay. Then, I get into the back of my waiting car.

  In the dark of the car, I cry. Like I haven’t since I was a boy. Not a sobbing cry, but hitched breaths and watery, greedy gulps of air, while my chest heaves under the weight of everything that has happened in the last twenty-four hours. By the time I get home, I’m spent.

  WOUNDED

  CONFIDENCE

  Since the terrible incident in Rivers Wilde, my life has been lived in hectic, noisy spaces that fall between crying jags, snatches of fitful sleep, police interviews, and worry. I went to work that Monday, despite my bruises and aches. I had nothing to be ashamed of, and I had a lot of work to do.

  The pro-Barry movement has lost most of its members. But, the few loyal ones who don’t seem to care that he tried to rape me in broad daylight don’t try to hide their contempt. On top of that, we hit a real roadblock in the class-action suit against Kingdom. The class is divided. A lot of them want to settle. And there’s talk about them breaking away to form their own suit.

  Oh, and I’m officially pregnant. I went to see my doctor after getting slammed up against that wall and they did a blood test. It’s official. I’m due on the 28th of May. I’m ten weeks along and I have an ultrasound picture tucked into my purse. Hayes and I have been talking every day, but, that’s it. He’s been busy every time I’ve tried to see him. I thought he needed some space like I did. But, now I’m worried that he’s avoiding me.

  While he had been in custody after his arrest, Amelia had filled me on what happened that morning and why he’d been late to meet me in the first place.

  The memory of that night, knowing that he’s alone while dealing with what happened in the alley as well as the prospect that he is not his father’s son, has torn at me and kept me awake every night since I saw him.

  I was starting to feel frustrated because I had been through an ordeal, too—a big one, and I didn’t have my best friend’s shoulder to cry on. I was pregnant and hadn’t told him because I hadn’t had the chance to. He hasn’t answered his phone all day.

  Amelia called me this evening to say she had the DNA results but couldn’t reach Hayes. She said she was headed to his house, so I asked her to bring me with her. And here we are.

  “This isn’t a good idea,” Amelia says for the fourth time in the last two minutes.

  “Maybe not. But if things go wrong, I’ll handle it,” I tell her.

  “You can’t handle a man that size. What if he loses it again?” she asks.

  I reach up and punch on the overhead light in her car.

  “If you make one more comment about Hayes that implies he’s a danger to me or dangerous at all, I will make sure he fires you,” I tell her.

  Her eyes narrow and she leans forward. “I’ve served this family for years. Swish himself trained me. I’d like to see you try to get rid of me,” she says coldly.

  “No. You wouldn’t,” I tell her honestly. “I don’t hold back when it comes to him. And if you believe any of that shit his ex-wife spewed about him, you don’t deserve to lick his boots, much less to be on his payroll,” I growl at her.

  Her eyes widen and she leans back. “I’m glad you’ve got so much backbone. You’re going to need it. I don’t know what’s in that envelope, but if it’s not good, things could get ugly,” she says somberly. Her eyes are so grave and my heart sinks.

&
nbsp; I glance up at Hayes’s house. There are no signs of life inside. But I know he’s there and I need to get to him.

  “Let me just say this—since you don’t seem to know—he would never touch me or anyone who couldn’t defend themselves against him. He’s not a bully or an abusive man. Sure, he’s an asshole sometimes, but that’s how he’s managed to survive in this cesspool of humanity he was born into. I’m his second chance. He’s mine. No matter what the results say, we’ll be fine because that’s what we do. I’ve been preparing myself, it’ll be okay. You can leave.”

  “Okay,” she says quickly, easily, and with a touch of relief.

  “Okay. Give me the envelope and then get out of here. I’ll find my way back or Hayes will bring me. Either way, tomorrow we get to work on taking that uncle of his down,” I say and wait for her to nod.

  “God help the person who comes up against the two of you. You’re like two sides of the same coin,” she says, her voice full of marvel.

  “That’s right,” I affirm, glad that she finally sees it. “God help them.”

  I open the car door, turn around to give her one last reassuring smile and say, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  I decide to knock first. But after three knocks, with two minutes between each, there is still no answer. So I use the key and let myself in.

  The house is quiet. The ticking of a wall clock, the hum of subzero fridge, the whir and click of the air conditioning coming on and the chirp of what sounds like hundreds of cicadas fill the otherwise still, dark house.

  “Hayes,” I call. There’s no resounding echo, none of the certainty that comes knowing that you’re heard, even if you’re not seen. I feel my first real prick of worry for him. I should have come sooner.

  “Hayes,” I call out again and start up the stairs. The carpeted runner silences my footfalls, but the wooden steps still creak every other step. It’s silent upstairs, too. There’s a light peeking around the frame of the door that leads to his master bedroom. As I get closer, I hear his snores. I push the door open and my anger spikes.

  Lined up along the foot of the bed are four empty bottles of Jack Daniels. I watch him. Even in his sleep, he’s strong and powerful.

  His brows are relaxed, his stubble-covered jaw is still strong, but not so rigid. His lips are parted and soft. For the first time, I see the little boy who grew up without his mother in a house that was managed like a chessboard. Manipulations, lies, and death blows.

  I spend a few minutes watching him and then pick up the glass of water by his bed and throw it at him. His eyes pop open in surprise. I step back when he starts to shake his head back and forth to get the water off and wipes the water out of his eyes before he looks up at me. His eyes are murderous.

  “What the hell?” he yells at me.

  “You tell me!” I give him the full force of my anger, too. “I’ve been trying to reach you for days,” I seethe.

  “I told you I needed a few days,” he grumbled.

  “I knew you needed some time to think. And I walk in here to find you living like you’re a frat boy on spring break.” I point at the bottles lined up on the floor.

  “Stop screaming,” he moans and cradles his head.

  “I’m not screaming. Even though I should be. You fucking abandoned me, Hayes!” Now, I raise my voice.

  “I didn’t,” he groans.

  “And you abandoned yourself. We have shit to do. Shit to discuss.”

  He covers his face and groans into his hands.

  “You threw water at me, Tesoro,” he grumbles.

  “Yeah, I know. Because I’m the one who did it,” I say with dry sarcasm. He scowls, completely unamused.

  “I just needed a couple of days,” he says miserably.

  “Hayes, what the hell have you been doing in here? Are you high?” I ask him.

  He sits up straight and shakes his head. “I don’t know where my phone is. I haven’t seen it since the …” He winces as if he’s in pain and says, “since the fight.”

  “How did Amelia reach you then?” I ask

  “The house line, like she always does. It’s an encrypted line and she’s unduly paranoid, so she always uses it to talk to me when it’s urgent,” he says. And then he shakes his head and looks at me with real confusion in his eyes.

  “What the fuck is wrong with my family?” His voice is etched with pain and my heart aches for him because I don’t have any answers to that question.

  “I don’t know. But, we need to talk.”

  He sighs.

  “I know that you have more shit going on right now than most people deal with their whole lives. But you’ve also got more power, privilege and wealth than those same people can dream about. And with all of that comes all the obligation. More money, more problems, right?”

  He nods.

  “So, get off your ass and put on your streetwise hat, because your uncle is playing dirty,” I tell him.

  “No kidding.” He sighs and rubs his hands tiredly over his face.

  “We have to think like desperate people who don’t have safety nets or moral compasses,” I tell him.

  “You sound like Amelia,” he grumbles.

  “You should do whatever she tells you to do,” I say.

  “You’ve changed your tune. I thought she was a ‘vulture,’” he says.

  “The board meeting is in two days. No atheists in foxholes,” I say.

  “Do you mean my enemy’s enemy is my friend?” he asks.

  “Whatever. We have a lot of work to do!” I snap impatiently.

  His expression has morphed from slightly annoyed to happy.

  “Why are you smiling? Do you like getting chewed out by me?” I ask.

  “I don’t know what chewed out means, but it sounds like it could be hot,” he says.

  “Hayes,” I huff.

  “That morning, when he attacked you. I was coming to break up with you,” he says.

  I freeze and stare at him. Tears, hot and unbidden, fill my eyes. My breath is trapped in my lungs, and I can’t speak.

  “I wouldn’t have done it,” he says quickly and rushes to stand by me. When he puts his hands on my shoulders, I lean into him.

  “But why?” I hear myself say in a voice that I don’t recognize. It’s thick with hurt.

  “I had just gotten the call about the DNA test. I was angry and thought I had let Thomas get away with too much because I’d been distracted,” he says, not quite meeting my eyes now.

  “By me?” I ask.

  “Yes. But by the time I got there, I knew there was no way I could give you up. The sun rises and sets in your eyes, Confidence,” he says. My heart starts that kicking again and my tears dry.

  “But walking into that, seeing him on you. I thought …” He swallows thickly. “I’m sorry. So sorry that I wasn’t there. I’m so fucking sorry that he put his hands on you. That I was late,” he sounds so distressed.

  “Hayes, why didn’t you just talk to me? Is that why you haven’t left your house? You’ve been avoiding me?” I ask.

  He laughs darkly. “No. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to stop myself from going to that fucker’s house and setting it on fire,” he says. I grab his hand and squeeze.

  “I was scared that day. But I’m okay now.” I tell him. “I just want us to focus on what we can control. And we have to get ready for this meeting. It’s only two days away.” I feel desperate suddenly to lighten the mood. I’ve spent four days in a state of complete anxiety and it’s taken its toll. As much as I’m dreading the rest of our conversation, I’m glad we have it to talk about.

  I lean back on the window sill and he sits on the bed watching me with a smile on his face.

  “What are you smiling at?”

  “You,” he says, his gaze growing more intense. “You’re my everything. And I want to be your everything,” he says intently.

  “You are my everything, baby,” I assure him.

  My heart is in my throat.

  A
nd, in his eyes.

  “I’m thinking about myself, my future, my responsibilities so differently because of you,” he says and my heart swells. “So, yeah, I’m worried about the DNA test. But that’s not what has given me nightmares. It’s that I’ve done anything to hurt you or allowed anything to hurt you.” His eyes are glittering with fire that speaks of loyalty, constancy, and forever.

  “I know, baby …” I say and want so badly to put him in my pocket and protect him from everything that’s coming this week. “I feel the same way.”

  “You’re my priority. Because you are my future. You have a view of the world that I want to use as my lens for the rest of my fucking life. Even when it feel like it’s do or die, I know that you and I are a sure thing.”

  “Never doubt that,” I say.

  He runs his hands through his hair. “Everything feels so complicated, except for us.”

  “I don’t care if I’m not the heir. I don’t care if they remove me. The only thing I need is you.” He stands up, naked as the day he was born. Even soft, his penis is beautiful and thick. His whole body is beautiful and thick. I let my eyes feast on him, and when I get to those eyes—those fucking eyes—I blurt out, “I’m pregnant.”

  TRUTH

  GIGI

  “You’re what?” I ask and sit back down on the bed, only briefly registering the cold, wet sheets bunching under my bare ass. I’m dazed and a million questions and emotions flood me as I try to recover from the curve ball she just threw at me.

  “Hayes.” She walks over to me, her blue eyes crinkled in concern. “Are you okay?” she asks and then lays a hesitant hand on my shoulder.

  “Did you say you’re pregnant?” I ask, dazed, but fuck me, also praying to God I wasn’t hearing things.

  She nods, her eyes wide, her blonde brows raised in uncertainty.

 

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