by Haven Rose
Shane hangs his head, his shoulders slumped, and I falter for a second in my blame because he looks utterly defeated. When he glances up, his eyes a little wet, he says, “You’re right, and I can never make that up to either of you, and I have no excuse for doing what I did, or didn’t do in this case, but I do have a reason.”
Remembering how close I came to not finding Rooney again, making one decision differently meaning our paths wouldn’t have crossed that day, I sit beside her and place her in my lap. She wraps her arms around me as if knowing I need the reassurance, her whispered, “I’m here, husband,” going a long way toward soothing me.
“May I?” He asks, indicating the table with the bag now in his hand. I nod, letting him know it’s okay and he pulls out a folder and lays it down. “The morning of April 15th, I was contacted by Kimberly Howell regarding the case her son, Thomas Howell, hired me for.”
“We talked the day before about you finding Rooney for me,” I say unnecessarily.
“That’s correct. I have no idea how she was aware of our conversation nor did I ask, but I was told under no circumstances was I to complete the task you’d given me.”
“You may not have asked, but I’m damn sure going to,” Rooney states with a glance at me.
Thinking back because I know there’s no way in hell I would’ve talked to my mother about what happened between us nor the fact she’d left me the next morning, there’s only one possibility. “She must’ve heard me telling Peyton. We’d been summoned to the estate for I don’t remember what now, and my sister and I were talking as we waited on my parents.”
“And she took the chance to eavesdrop.”
“I don’t know what other explanation there could be. That’s the one and only time I mentioned you in that house prior to finding you again.”
Rooney looks at Shane and asks, “Why would she assume you’d obey her? It’s professionally and morally unethical.”
“It is, but there are some things you’ll disregard both for,” he informs us solemnly.
I just shake my head, already knowing the answer, “Blackmail. It’s her M.O. after all.”
Nodding, Shane explains, “It wasn’t that I did anything I was ashamed of and she used that against me, but I’m trying to gain guardianship of my little brother and she threatened to ensure I’d be turned down. I can’t let that happen. He and I are the only family we’ve got left, but our dad died unexpectedly without updating his will.”
“Surely, as his only living relative I’d think they’d grant you guardianship.” I’m confused, not seeing why they wouldn’t instantly reunite the siblings.
“The judge overseeing the case is a friend of your mothers.” Of course, he or she is. “Dad died a couple weeks before you called me and they’d placed Johnny, my brother, in my care that same day, and we had a hearing at the courthouse the day before. I don’t know how your mother was aware of any of this, let alone what was going on with me personally, but…”
“She used your love for your brother against you,” Rooney guesses, remembering how my mother had essentially done the same to Bianca, but with her mom as the catalyst.
“I couldn’t take lying anymore, knowing she’d always have this hold over me, basically dangling Johnny in my face whenever she wanted something from me. Plus, I hated the fact I was keeping you from finding your woman again. Luckily, aside from the first couple minutes of the initial phone call, I recorded every contact with your mother, made notes of anything she had me do.”
He hands me the folder and Rooney and I start looking through it, each page we flip disgusting as it shows how far my mother was willing to go. When we’re done, I realize he has another in front of him.
“I knew that alone wouldn’t be enough, so I decided to conduct a separate investigation with her mother as the focus. The shit she’s done,” he begins, shaking his head.
“Part of me doesn’t want to ask, but…” I trail off, shrugging as if to say I have to know.
“Rooney, have you had any issues regarding your business in the past month or so?” She agrees, looking uneasy but resigned to who was behind them. Seeing her expression, Shane nods.
“How?” I ask, more curious than surprised.
“How else?” He queries and we all answer with blackmail.
“The bitch is consistent in that if nothing else,” Rooney states then quickly glances at me, apologetic for referring to my mother that way, regardless of how appropriate it is. I kiss her cheek, silently letting her know I understand and concur with the sentiment.
“What does she have on that man? Wait, does he actually work for Town Hall?”
“Yes, to the second question, the first,” he stops and rubs his hands across his face, as if trying to wash away the part he played in all of this, willingly or not, before continuing, “he borrowed money that didn’t belong to him.” Opening my mouth to ask the next logical question, he preemptively adds, “He’d already returned every cent, but the fact it was done is all the information she needed. His reason for doing so didn’t matter to her, nor that he’d paid it back.”
“I’m not excusing what he did, he stole regardless, but did you find proof and she used that to make him do what she wanted?” Shane looks so guilty that’s all the answer I need.
“What else do you have on her?” He hands me the folder and Rooney and I read through it’s contents like we did the other.
“Affairs, blackmail, illegal contracts.” But it’s the last page that somehow makes the rest pale in comparison, and that’s saying a lot. “She bugged the conference rooms and recorded the private business matters of our clients?”
“Some of the rooms too, the ones she conducted her affairs in, which gave her evidence if any of them stepped out of line, her words not mine,” he lets us know, giving me an inside peek into the woman I thought I knew.
A statement my mother made that night, only I was too pissed on behalf of my wife to think about at the time, hits me. Ironically, with all this swirling around my brain, clarity hits and things begin adding up.
“Because it works,” I say out loud, drawing Shane and Rooney’s attention.
“What?” They ask in unison.
“When accusations were made at dinner, Rooney asked how she, my mother, thought Rooney or any other woman could be so low as to intentionally get pregnant to trap a man.”
“And she replied ‘Because it works,’” Rooney recalls. “Oh my gosh! That’s what she did.”
I feel sick to my stomach, his indifference to Peyton and myself making sense now. He didn’t want us, nor the life forced upon him by a woman he probably just viewed as a good time. But once she informed him about me, he couldn’t walk away - my paternal grandparents wouldn’t have let him, their mindset being the opinions of others mattered more than anything else, even what their son wanted or needed. I don’t remember much about Grandfather and Grandmother Howell, and yes, that’s how we had to refer to them, but the lack of affection from them was a constant whenever they visited
Did my father ever realize she did it on purpose? Or was the last family dinner the first inclination he had about it?
“Thanks for letting us know,” I tell Shane. “I should be pissed at what we lost because of the two of you, but you were a victim too.”
“I’ll understand if you want me to resign my license. It’s the least of what I deserve,” Shane says, as if he didn’t hear what I said, basically absolving him. I try to assure him it’s okay, that he doesn’t have to, but he isn’t listening. Rooney finally whistles, loudly, and he stops.
“Shane? Shut it, okay?” She tells him somewhat gently. “Caden is saying he isn’t going to do anything. That you won’t be in trouble or lose your license. However, I do think he’d like your help in taking down his mother.”
He looks at me hopefully and I let him know if he could, in addition to what he’s already given me, be a part of her getting what she deserves, I’d be thankful.
“Fuck yeah,”
he about shouts, causing Boomer to give a cute little growl and Gypsy to meow sadly at being woken up. Rooney soothes them to sleep again as Shane, in a quieter voice, repeats his enthusiastic reply.
Call me wrong, I don’t care, but I’m looking forward to this.
Chapter Nineteen
Rooney
August 7th…
It took time to get everything in order, but we’re moving forward with Operation Kick Kimberly’s Ass. Okay, that’s my name for it, but whatever. Caden and Shane thought she might be more forthcoming with me, so I’m surprising her for a girls’ lunch with the cover story of wanting to get to know my mother-in-law. I’ve even dressed the part, my hair pulled back messily in a ponytail, a Finding Fur-ever shirt on with a pair of shorts. The clothes are because they’re comfortable and my belly has begun expanding. What may send her over the edge though is having my tattoos visible. I noticed at the charity event they were a point of contention with her, her gaze catching on them a few times, disgust crossing her face.
Walking inside, one of the employees greets me as she wipes down a table. Brandy, as her nametag states, asks about my shirt. She seems interested so I hand her a card then begin scanning the area for Kimberly.
“Running late, dear?” She asks, glancing at my appearance, when I join her.
“Not at all,” I assure her ignoring her attempt to shame me.
“We could have rescheduled,” she informs me, not ready to let this go. Now, if we were in a five-star restaurant or something, I could understand, but we aren’t. I love this place, their bread especially, but exclusive it is not.
“Oh no, I’ve been looking forward to this,” I tell her, sincerely. Not my fault she doesn’t know I’m referring to seeing she gets what she deserves.
“I was surprised you called considering Thomas’ decree about not contacting you unless I followed his rules,” she says, ensuring I know she still hasn’t apologized as Caden said she must, and has no intention of doing so.
“Well, I believe in second chances, And, for all intents and purposes, you are his mother, so…” I trail off, letting her take that as she will and her eyes narrow telling me my barb hit its target. And that point goes to me.
Small talk is tense, yet we get through it as we wait for our food to be ready. Eating passes more time, and I pretty much see when she decides to let this façade go.
“So, I’ve heard you’ve had some issues with your business,” she starts, fake concern oozing from her, “such a shame. All those animals you won’t be able to help.”
I pat her hand, as if soothing her, and happily inform her, “No worries. We’re close to straightening that misunderstanding out. Besides, Caden and I have a new place and the sanctuary will be able to take in so many more now. So, in a way, being forced to leave the other location was a blessing in disguise.” Again, I’m being honest, but I also want her to know her intent to hurt me backfired. That has to stick in her craw and I hope she chokes on it.
“I was surprised to discover you were adopted. Thomas never mentioned it to us.”
If she thinks I’ll read into that as if he’s ashamed or I should be, she’s greatly mistaken. “It was the best thing that could’ve happened to me.”
“It’s nice,” her tone says she means the opposite, “that’s an option for those that don’t come from traditional homes.” Nope, I didn’t feel that at all. After what I heard from the kids at school, and they can be much crueler than adults, her attempt bounces right off me.
“Mine was quite traditional. I grew up in a loving home with two parents that adore me. Not everyone can say that.” Oh man, if eyes were weapons, I’d be dead right now.
“I’m guessing your biological family was troubled.”
“From what I understand, yes.”
“And aren’t you worried those may be passed to your child?”
“Not at all,” I reply. “Our DNA doesn’t necessarily determine who we are. For example, my son or daughter already has my heart, something that couldn’t be said for my birth father or mother. And those who know Caden can’t deny how loving he is and that he’ll be a fantastic dad.”
Since that didn’t work, Kimberly tries a different tactic, and it seems the figurative gloves are off and she’s going for the jugular. “You aren’t good enough for him and you never will be. You are so far beneath him you’re like a speck that’s barely visible in his world.” I laugh, unable to help it because she still doesn’t get it. “How is that funny? I just told you without directly saying it that you’re ruining his life. This isn’t going to work out well for you. I suggest you cut your losses before you get hurt. I’m positive Thomas will compensate you for your time.”
“I feel sorry for you. You see things in black and white, you don’t see gray nor all the colors around you. The love of your family is red, their happiness yellow…you know, I take that back. You don’t see any of that aside from green. Every word you speak, any action or reaction you make is based upon it. You say I don’t fit in my husband’s world, but what you continually miss is that to him, I am his world and he is mine.”
If I knew she considered it unladylike, I’d swear I just heard her growl at me. “What else do I have to do to make you go away?” She mumbles, but not quietly enough.
“What have you already tried?” I ask her.
**Caden**
“Your wife is good,” Shane says as we listen in on Rooney and my mother. Rooney’s phone is recording every word of the conversation inside, and we’re able to hear her through the devices we’re wearing. Having a PI in your wheelhouse sure does come with some fun toys.
“She is. My mother, on the other hand, is nothing but bad news.”
He’s quiet for a moment, no doubt unsure how to respond to that, then he says, “I’m sorry for my part in this. I know you and Rooney were gracious enough to forgive me, but if I’d said something sooner…”
“Do you love your little brother, Shane?”
He looks at me like I’m nuts, but I have a reason. “More than anything.”
“Then we’re fine. What you did was because of him. While it would’ve been nice to know earlier, Rooney and I can’t fault you for protecting your family.”
Shane nods, clears his throat, then looks away a for a minute, before asking, “Since your mother is gloating about ‘doing what she needed to’ to preserve the Howell name, what’s next?”
“Honestly, I’m not sure yet. The idea of providing the proof that could send her to jail isn’t something I want to live with, but on the other hand, she not only conspired to keep Rooney, and therefore my child from me, but went even further by involving others in her deception.”
We’re quiet as we continue listening to my mother essentially brag about the steps she went to, and those she was willing to take if necessary, not willing to let Rooney sully - her words, not mine - our family.
“I can’t believe you even got Thomas to look at you,” my mother’s voice comes through the phone. “What could you possibly have to offer him other than something he could get from any other woman he wanted to? All he has to do is snap his fingers and one would be willing to do his bidding,” she taunts.
My wife doesn’t fall for her lies though and promptly calls her bluff. “You really don’t know him at all, do you? First, Caden,” she stresses my preferred name yet again, “is not that type of man, but you wouldn’t know that because you didn’t have a hand in raising him. And I know for a fact anyone that has ever met the two of you is thankful for that. If I didn’t know better, I’d think both Caden and Peyton were adopted just like I was.”
Uh oh, I think, she gave my mother an opening and she won’t hesitate to strike. “But they are mine and Thomas’ because, unlike your parents, we wanted our children.”
“Oh shit,” Shane whispers beside me, “I can’t believe she went there.”
“Unfortunately,” I tell him, my voice just as soft as his, each of us subconsciously deciding the situation denotes a
somber tone, “I can, but what she doesn’t understand is that Rooney is secure in who she is and knows being taken in by Mary and Dani was the best thing that could have happened to her.”
“Is that supposed to hurt me?” Rooney asks my mother, not bothering to suppress her humor at the attempt. “What are you, five? Okay, I’ll play along, sticks and stones may break my bones, but words will never hurt me.” Shane and I can’t help it, we bust out laughing, joining in the joke about the immaturity my mother just displayed and Rooney continued, by simultaneously going, “Ooh,” like we’re on the school playground. “Dani and Mary may not be my birth parents, and I truly don’t care that they aren’t, but they raised me as if I was their own and have shown me nothing but love since the day they took in a little girl abandoned by those who should’ve put her above themselves. And as horrible as my birth mother is, and yes, I did look her up, only to learn she didn’t regret giving me up and my father only saw her as a good time and didn’t want me either, so if you think to use that against me as well, you’re too late, what you and your husband have done to Caden and Peyton is far worse. At least my biologics didn’t pretend to care, essentially stringing me along my whole life, pushing me to be something I wasn’t in order to please them, nor did they pay attention to me only when it benefitted them. That, Mrs. Howell, is far worse than making a decision to give your child away. Now, try again. Maybe your next shot will have better aim.”
It didn’t, nor did any of the others. Rooney expertly shot each down, making my mother so mad that her plan hadn’t worked and obviously never would, that she confessed everything, and to some we didn’t know. When I glance at Shane as things are revealed, the shock I’m feeling isn’t mirrored on his face, which means he knew, or at least suspected.
“I’m sorry, man,” he says. “I had my suspicions, but no concrete evidence. Besides, how do you tell a person, that not only did you intentionally drop the ball, but did so at his mother’s request, and oh yeah, did you know she’s pretty much made a career out of blackmailing some high-profile people?”