by Law, Kim
He lifted his hands abruptly, and the music stopped.
“Are you kidding me?” His voice was tight as he turned on the seat. “After everything that’s happened this week, you can ask if that is the reason I took you to the school?”
Chapter Twenty-Six
She’d made him furious. Vega reached out to put a hand on his, but at the look on his face she stopped.
“I’m sorry, I’m just…” She shook her head, unsure what to say. “Floored, I guess. I’m…trying to piece this together in my mind. Your father…”
“Yeah,” he grumbled, turning back to the piano. “I’m trying to piece it together too.”
She waited, but when he didn’t continue, she pleaded. “I’m sorry, JP. I know you took me today to share a part of you few people get to see.”
“No one gets to see.” His tone was hard, the words spoken slowly.
She nodded, the intention clear. She was special to him, and he wanted to make sure she knew it. “I know,” she whispered. “A part no one gets to see. You wanted to show me you care.” She turned his head to her and nodded again. “I care, too.”
She watched as the tension in his shoulders slowly eased, terrified she’d killed the moment but knowing she couldn’t walk out tonight without finding out how this whole thing had come to be.
His father had sired a love child. This was the type of stuff she should be after if she really wanted the job, but the last thing she could do was run to the station with this news. Neither JP nor his half brother deserved that.
Finally, he put his fingers back on the keys and began to draw out a sad, lonely song.
“He’s dyslexic.” His words were flat. “She came to the office, demanding money. I refused. I won’t be blackmailed, and especially not for something my father did.
“Then I find out Dad had already paid her over a million dollars before he died.” The song built in volume then tapered back off. “Only, she’s blown through most of it and wanted more. So she tells me about Daniel.” He pounded on the keys. “And it’s not his fault he needs help.”
He closed his eyes and lost himself in the song for several minutes before suddenly jolting and turning to face her. He slipped one leg to the other side of the stool and straddled the worn cushion. “He needs a good school, good teachers, and a tutor for hours a day to even begin to maintain his classmates’ level. Don’t you see? I can’t say no and let Daniel suffer.”
His urgency took her by surprise. She knew he would do the right thing for the child, but the passion exuding from him was urgent, almost painful, and Vega was unsure of the best thing to say. She swallowed a deep breath. “Of course you can’t.”
“You don’t get it, I can tell. But the thing is…”
She waited, slipping her hands over his as she did. “What is it? What aren’t you telling me?”
His shoulders slumped, and his face took on the insecurity of a small child, his eyes begging for understanding. “I was just like him,” he ground out. “Diagnosed as severely dyslexic at the age of six. I know exactly what he’s going through.”
Shock kept her eyes from blinking and her mouth from producing saliva. JP was dyslexic?
“I’m sorry.” He cupped her jaw. “I should have found a better way to spill that. But the thing is, there is no better way. I’m severely dyslexic. No one knows but my family and Beverly.” He gave her a small smile. “I’m also aware it’s not the most impressive thing to learn about someone. But I can’t turn my back on Daniel. He’s a Davenport. My brother.” His voice cracked with the last word. “And even if I can’t be there as a true brother, I have to support him any way I can.”
His hand was still on her jaw, so she reached up to hold it in hers. “Not impressive? My God, the things you’ve accomplished are amazing. What you want to do for Daniel only makes you more beautiful in my eyes.”
She smiled, hoping to coax him to do the same, but it didn’t work.
“Lexi wants to keep him a secret, but she needs help.” His lips twitched as if to smile but didn’t quite make it. “I’ll help any way I can, but I’m not sure it won’t come out. Especially with me stepping into office.” He looked off past her shoulder, and his voice changed to take on a faraway quality. “I’m also not sure if she wants to keep it quiet because she’s ashamed of him, or if she really just doesn’t want him to have to deal with the media frenzy the way the rest of us do.”
“Why would she be ashamed of him? It’s not his fault.” And then she got it. JP had felt that way. Her heart pounded so hard she was sure he would hear it. If not, he had to feel the vibrations simply from touching her. She licked her lips. “Is that how you felt?”
Blue eyes swiveled back to her, and she wanted to cry for what she saw.
“Oh, honey.” She lunged forward and wrapped her arms around his neck. “How could you have ever felt that way? You didn’t do anything wrong.”
“No?” His laugh was hard and cold, but he locked his own arms around her. “Every day up until I was diagnosed, my mother spent hours with me. Playing games, reading. She called me her perfect little boy. I never asked why I was more perfect than my older brother, but at the time, I loved being doted on like that.”
Vega almost couldn’t stand to hear the decades-old pain pouring out of the man she loved but knew he had to get it out. She stroked his hair and pressed a kiss to the side of his face. “Tell me the rest,” she whispered.
“The rest.” He sighed. His arms tightened around her. “Fine. Around the same time they figured out what was wrong with me, we moved to DC. My dad’s mom came with us. She became the one I spent all my free time with. She did my exercises with me, homeschooled me for a few years, then helped me with homework every night so I could go to school the next day and fake it long enough to come home and do it again. My mother spent most of her time with Dad. She hired Beverly as an assistant and got regular updates about me from her.”
Pain ached throughout every part of Vega. There had to be more to it than what he was saying. She’d seen how Emma loved her son. How proud she was of him. “Maybe the timing was just a coincidence or something? Didn’t she help your dad a lot with his political career?”
JP stiffened under her, then pushed out of her arms. His face wore no warmth. “Neither she nor my father ever spoke of my disability again. To this day.”
Ouch.
Wow. She sat there with her arms empty, unsure where to put them, and could not imagine bearing that kind of pain alone at such a young age. She lifted her hand to touch him, but he pulled back, suddenly eyeing her as if she were the enemy.
She lowered her hand. “Is there more?”
At first he shook his head, then he looked away and blew out a breath. “It’s just…I’ve never told anyone that.”
“I know,” she murmured. She could see that she meant that much to him. Which made the fact she still had to walk away even harder. Yet she wouldn’t be the one to cause him any additional pain, especially not after what she’d just learned. She wouldn’t ask him to stand by her when her history could ruin him. Walking away was the right thing to do. But before she went, she had to know one thing more. “Can I ask you something?”
His laugh was sardonic. “Why would I keep anything from you at this point?”
“Are you taking office only because of your mother? Is this your attempt to win her approval after all this time?”
“Of course not.” He stood and moved to the balcony.
She followed. She may not be able to be there for him in the future, but she would do anything she could before she left. “Then what is it about? Because politics isn’t what you really want, is it?”
JP stood at the railing, his hands curled over the top of the wrought iron, his arms locked at the elbows. “Why would you think that?”
“I watch your face anytime it comes up. I saw it tonight as your mother hugged you and said you were finally getting what you always wanted. In fact, I’ll have to edit that shot because no one in the wo
rld could look at it and believe this is what you want.”
“I’m doing what I was born to do, Vega.” He glanced over at her, his eyes asking her to support him. “I don’t have a choice.”
“You always have a choice.”
She’d kicked off her shoes earlier and liked the height now separating them. Wanting to give him as much strength as she could, she slipped under his arm and put her back to the city. She lifted her face to his. “Quit making choices based on your mother, JP. Do what you want. What is it you would do if none of this other stuff was in the way?”
* * *
JP studied her, staring down into her eyes, and saw the same love he felt staring back at him. She really did get him. He used his thumb to caress her cheek, then over her eye, tracing one perfect brow. He loved touching her. “You mean other than spend the rest of my life with you?”
Her inhalation was short, but he didn’t miss it. She might care for him, but she wasn’t ready to discuss forever yet. Damn. Yet he couldn’t stop now, not after he’d put it out there.
“I love you, Vega. Surely you know that. And yes, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. I’m sorry to put it out there so bluntly, but I had to tell you. It feels like I’m running out of time.”
Her pupils dilated, and he could sense her desire to flee. She nodded. “We are running out of time. Let’s not ruin it by pushing for something we can’t have. You have to trust me on this. I would be worse for you than Daniel’s parentage coming out. I swear. If not…”
She shook her head and moved as if to step away from him, but he tightened his arms, trapping her to his chest. The tear glinting in her lashes broke his heart. “Tell me what you’re afraid of, baby. We’ll figure it out together.”
The tear slipped loose and trekked down her cheek. She wiped it away with the back of her hand before he could do it for her. “I think I should go.”
Her words lacerated his heart. She was going to run. And without understanding why, he knew this time would be forever. “Tell me you love me,” he pleaded, hating himself for it at the same time the words clawed from his throat. “I know you do, I can see it. Tell me.”
She bowed her head, her forehead landing against his chest, but she remained silent. Dammit. His chest rose and fell with his breaths. What had he done wrong?
Thoughts of not being good enough flitted through his mind, but he pushed them aside. He was a success, and he could take on anyone who wanted to challenge him. He couldn’t be any better for her.
Only, she was still going to leave him.
With a soft moan, Vega pushed against him, and he dropped his arms.
“I need to use the restroom to clean up,” she said. “And then I’m going to go.”
He watched her hurry inside and fought the urge to chase her. He wanted to tie her down and force her to share with him. Force her to admit she couldn’t just walk away unaffected.
But he wouldn’t do that. He wouldn’t push her again. He’d laid his heart on the line, and she’d said no thanks. He was finished begging.
He glanced at the corner of the piano that had the chunk missing and shook his head at the irony. He would never beg again.
Ten minutes later when Vega hadn’t returned, JP could wait no longer. If she was leaving, he wanted her gone.
Stalking down the hall, he drew up short at the light leaking through his open bedroom door. With cautious steps, he moved to the doorway and peeked inside.
Vega sat on his bed, his old tackle box in her lap, digging through the trinkets he’d stored there so many years ago. As she poked her finger inside, moving items around, tears rolled down her cheeks and dripped onto her chest.
It took everything he had not to go to her, but he couldn’t do it anymore. If she wouldn’t give him her heart, he had to hold on to his.
But he also couldn’t walk away.
She pulled out a piece of paper, read it, then spread it out flat on the comforter. Next, she held up a matchbox car and smiled. The Jaguar was a replica of a car his father had once driven. In the fourth grade, JP had taken it to school for show-and-tell.
When she got to the tattered copy of The Three Bears, held together by the thread his mother had sown through the spine, she turned it over and over as if doing so would reveal all its secrets.
“She read that to me so often I could repeat it verbatim by the time I was four.”
Chapter Twenty-Seven
“Oh!” The book slipped from Vega’s fingers at JP’s words. She hadn’t known he was there. She glanced around then, trying to figure out how she’d gotten into his bedroom, before remembering she’d caught sight of the open chest as she’d returned from washing her face. She’d been unable to walk out of his life without seeing what items meant so much to him he’d kept them all these years.
She swiped at her cheeks and worked on a smile. “Who read it to you?”
“My mother.” He remained in the doorway, looking relaxed, but Vega didn’t miss the clutch his fingers had on the doorframe. “She read it to me every day.”
“Did your grandmother teach you how to read the words once you started learning?”
He shifted and crossed his arms over his chest, resting one shoulder against the jamb. “No one has read that particular book since I was six.”
Oh. She gulped. Another tear rolled over her cheek for the little boy he’d once been. Picking up the book again, she placed it on top of the paper listing the specifics of his diagnosis and reached back into the box. Pulling out a string, she held it up to him in question.
His smile was small but real. “I used to do a magic trick with that. There should be a knot in there to go along with it.”
A bleep of laughter gurgled up her throat. She put the string, as well as the knot, on top of the book, and lifted out an envelope with colored pieces of paper tucked inside. She peeked in, then pulled them out without waiting to see if he minded. They were report cards from fourth and fifth grade. Straight As on every one.
“Wow,” she murmured. “I wouldn’t have expected that.”
“I was a driven child.” He shrugged. “And I think those teachers had me figured out. They made adjustments so I didn’t have to read or write in class as much, and I took a lot of my tests orally.”
“Sounds like you were in a good school.”
“I guess.”
She wondered if his mother had seen to that or if it had been purely accidental. Rarely are things quite so random.
Next was a slightly curved, worn piece of paper, folded the right size to slip into a young boy’s back pocket. She wiggled her eyebrows at him. “I think I might have found a love letter.”
He didn’t respond.
Nervousness shook her fingers as she unfolded the yellowed paper. Written in a child’s shaky hand, she read the words Dear Santa and glanced up at him. He stood by the bed now.
“I didn’t know how to spell, and I still got some of the letters backwards, but Cat wrote it out for me first. I copied from hers. It took me three hours to get it just right.”
Vega couldn’t breathe. Something was in this letter that she didn’t want to see. She looked down and read.
Dear Santa,
I have been as good as I can this year so I could get what I wanted for Christmas. All I want is for you to please tell my mother I’m learning to read real good and it is okay to like me again.
Love,
Jackson Parker Davenport
Her stomach revolted, and she almost lost her dinner. Covering her mouth, she kept the food down but couldn’t stop the stream of tears. They came fast and hard and dripped all over the paper before she could move it out of the way.
JP took it from her hand.
“I’m sorry.” She blinked up at him. “I didn’t mean to—”
“Not a problem.” He ripped the paper into pieces and tossed the shreds in a nearby trash can, a muscle ticking at the back of his jaw with his movements. “I learned there was no Santa a couple wee
ks after I wrote it. I should have tossed it then.”
“JP.” She reached for him, but he pulled away. She deserved that, but she couldn’t stand seeing his young hopes and dreams in this tiny box. “Do you want me to go?” she whispered. She felt like she shouldn’t be seeing these things.
“Go. Stay. Whatever.” He nudged his chin at her lap. “But you haven’t seen the best part yet.”
There was more? Her chest burned at the thought, but she couldn’t bring herself to stand up and walk away. Instead, she reached inside and pulled out the only thing remaining. A shiny black piece of wood. She placed it in the palm of her hand and studied it.
Gripping it between two fingers, she held it up in front of her and eyed the misshapen sides, a memory tugging at her, but she couldn’t figure out what it was. Finally, she looked up at hooded eyes and a face seemingly made of granite. “What is it?”
JP’s jaw tensed before he took the piece from her and tucked it into his pocket. “It fits that gap in the piano.”
He turned and left the room then, and she followed without thought. “That’s it? You’re not going to tell me more than that?”
“I’ve decided you should leave.”
She stopped in the middle of the hall, refusing to budge. “I’m not leaving until you tell me about that piece of wood.”
“Then I’ll carry you out.” He came toward her, and though she didn’t think for a second he’d harm her, the anger emanating from him sent her scurrying backwards and straight into his room.
She hurried across the Oriental rug and out the balcony doors. Once there, she pivoted and locked her hands on her hips. “I’m not going anywhere, and you can’t make me.”
He laughed out loud. “Are you kidding me?”
With barely two strides, he was on the balcony, had her over his shoulder, and was heading back through his penthouse.
Well, that didn’t work.
Vega bounced off his backside as he stomped through the rooms, then studied their situation from an outsider’s point of view. She’d just stomped her foot like a child, dared him to “make her leave,” and he was now doing just that. Like some Neanderthal. And all because they were both shying away from feeling too much.