Broken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Second Season (13 page)

S
hit
. I didn’t know what I was thinking, inviting him over like that. It couldn’t end well. It would probably end up in bed, which was something I knew I didn’t want just then. At least, I thought I didn’t want it. People always said breakup sex was the best, but I hadn’t ever experienced it. Considering Daniel was my first lover, and we hadn’t really ever broken up…

Sex wasn’t even something I wanted to think about right then, and I hoped that Brandon hadn’t gotten the wrong idea. I mostly just wanted to talk. And if he ended up holding me, that would be even better. Even just one more embrace might be enough. I just needed to feel him one more time.

I dug through another drawer in the enormous and ridiculous dresser that was in my new bedroom. My mother was thoughtful enough to get me a near exact replica of the four poster bed that I loved so much from my beach house room, but the rest of the furniture… definitely my mother’s taste and not mine. It was hard to find anything in the monstrosity of a bureau. I had put the necklace somewhere when I moved in there. My mother must have approved of it, because it had been in its black velvet box, opened on top of this thing they called a dresser. I vaguely remembered throwing it into one of the drawers, but now, I couldn’t remember which one it had gone into in my haste to get it out of my sight. Just seeing it had made me cry.

He doesn’t want it back, anyway.
Reasoning with myself wasn’t helping much. I needed to find the damned thing before he got here. I looked down at my watch. It was already after three, and he still hadn’t shown. I supposed that he hadn’t really given me a time, just “afternoon.” He didn’t have my new phone number, so he couldn’t have called or texted to let me know if he was running late.

I reached into the back of another drawer and felt the velvet box. I let out a sigh of relief as I pulled it out and set it on the top of the box with his other things. As much as I might have wanted to keep it, I knew it wouldn’t be right. It was something he should give to the woman who would be his wife, or to his daughter. Hell, even to Krystal. It wasn’t something I should keep just because we had once had what I was still sure had been the real thing.

If he didn’t show up soon, I was going to have to cancel. I had forgotten about my appointment with the psychiatrist that afternoon, and I definitely didn’t want him walking in on that. Maybe I could have Cade call him and tell him. I just didn’t want him to have my phone number. Not yet. Not until I saw how things went today. I closed my eyes and tried not to think about the threats my father had made. There had to be some way to make this work and make everyone happy. Some way to convince my father…

I heard a knock at the door and stood up. My stomach twisted and my palms went instantly clammy. I hadn’t been this nervous since our first real date together. I picked up the box from the floor and set it down on the table next to the door. I blew out a long breath and smoothed my dress down. Yes, I had dressed up for him. I even did my hair, put on makeup. I couldn’t deny how I felt about him—I knew it every time I saw him again.

I took a deep breath and opened the door. But it wasn’t Brandon standing in the entry—it was Ben. The guy from lunch. The guy from the governor’s office.

He smiled. “Hi, Jenna. I got your address from your father. Can I come in?”

I
took the tie off
. It was too much. I had already put it on and taken it off again four times. I let out a breath through my gritted teeth. Why in the hell was I so nervous? Why did I feel like I needed to wear a suit, anyway? Something about this felt like a test—like I needed to prove myself. If I had learned anything in life, it was to dress for the role I wanted to win. And fuck, I wanted to win her back. Would a suit impress her?
Did it impress her before, asshole?
I took off the jacket and looked at myself in the mirror again. It was almost too casual. But it wasn’t like this was a formal date, either.

Christ, what was I doing? I should have been there hours ago. She probably thought I wasn’t going to show up at all. I decided to bring the jacket and tie with me. I grabbed the flowers and the bag of groceries I had purchased earlier and went out to my car. I could think about what to wear some more on the way there. Not that I’d have long—Cade had given me the address that morning and I couldn’t believe how close she lived to me now. Almost within walking distance.

The drive was far too short for me to figure anything out. She wouldn’t care how I dressed, whether it was a suit and tie or jeans and a t-shirt. I didn’t think she would, anyway. But maybe she would notice if I hadn’t worn a suit. She might think I didn’t care.
Fuck it.
I grabbed the jacket and put it on as soon as I stepped out of the car. I left the tie on the front seat. It seemed like a good compromise at the time.

I looked down at my watch as I waited for entry into the secure building. At least Cade had thought to leave my name with the guard, so it wasn’t a huge issue like it would have been if I had just shown up uninvited. Not that I wouldn’t have found a way to get in to see her.

I normally would have walked up the stairs to her fifth floor apartment. Elevators were for pussies, at least that was what I had always thought. At least until that knife had ripped through my abdomen, taking with it most of the muscles that allowed pussies like me to walk upright. I let out a sigh as I waited for the elevator to get to the ground floor. This was the other problem with elevators, I reasoned. The only thing they were good for was… I had to stop thinking about her. At least stop thinking about her like
that.
I hadn’t had her that day in the elevator, so many months ago, but damn, I had wanted her. I couldn’t think about that now. I needed to win her back. Prove to her that I was still worthy of her love, no matter how badly I had screwed up.

I finally made it to her floor after what felt like forever. I wasn’t even half way down the hall when her door opened and a man walked out of her apartment. It wasn’t just a man, though. It was Ben Talbot, and if he was there doing what I thought he was doing, I was going to kill him.

“Brandon. Long time, no see.”

I was going to wipe that forced smile from his face. He knew what was going on—he was the one I called that morning. I carefully set down the paper grocery bag and gently laid the flowers on top of it before I walked over to him. I forced my own smile to my face. “Ben. How goes it?”

Before he could even get a word out, I shoved him against the wall, holding him by his throat.

He barely gurgled out his response. “It isn’t what you think.”

“What is it that I think?” I tilted his head up, forcing his gaze to meet mine. “What is it that I’m thinking, asshole?”

“Her father. Christ, let go of me. We’re friends.” He clawed at my hand, his fingers trying to pry mine away from the death grip I had around his neck.

My hold on his throat tightened, and it was all I could do not to squeeze the life out of him right there.

“I swear to God. Please.” He was struggling to find enough air to form words.

I dropped my hand, releasing him. I wouldn’t have been able to explain a dead body to Jen, I reasoned. I could hurt him later. I knew where he lived. Where he worked.

He rubbed his hands over his throat. “Christ, Brandon. What’s wrong with you?”

My eyes narrowed. “You’re what’s wrong with me. You and everyone like you.”

He shook his head. “I didn’t. I swear. Her father and the governor.” He rubbed at his throat again. “I didn’t have a choice. I have to keep my job…”

I interrupted. “I will find out. And if you said anything to her… if you laid so much as a finger on her, you can consider yourself already dead.”

“Fuck, man, you need to get it together. I didn’t do anything. I know…”

“You don’t know anything. Just get the hell out of here.” He scampered toward the elevator as I picked up my things from the floor. I called after him. “And Ben…”

He turned to face me after punching the elevator button. “What?”

“Consider our friendship over.”

The elevator dinged as it opened and he glared over at me. “Fuck you, Brandon.” He stepped onto the elevator and I watched as the doors swung closed.

I turned back to her apartment. I would know if he had said anything to her. If he had done anything. She wouldn’t be able to hide it from me—there was no way she’d be able to hide her knowledge of
that
from me.

I took a deep breath and tried to calm myself. I picked up the flowers and held them in front of me. Pink and yellow roses—I knew they were her favorite. I pushed at the bell and held my breath, waiting for her to open the door.

The door finally swung open, but it wasn’t Jen that answered. It wasn’t Cade, either. It was some other guy, one I didn’t recognize. I felt my blood begin to boil again. My cheeks flushed and I clenched my jaw. I had made it my business to know everyone in her life in the past months.
Everyone.
And I definitely did not know this guy.

Something about him made my skin crawl. Maybe it was the fact that there was a man in her apartment. Maybe it was that a few minutes ago, there had been
two
men in her apartment. Where the hell was she, anyway?

“Jenna should be out in just a minute. Are you Brandon?”

The fact that this douche bag knew my name made me want to kill him with my bare hands. I felt the stems of the roses begin to break under my clenched fist and I set them down on the table next to the door. I saw the box of crap she meant to give me sitting there, the black velvet box sitting neatly atop several folded suits. Hadn’t I told her to keep the fucking thing?

What the hell had I been thinking? I dressed up, thinking I had a chance with her. I was such a fucking idiot. I set the bag of groceries down next to the flowers and picked up the box. I think I growled out my words more than said them, and it was all I could do just to get them out at all. “Tell her I said hello.”

I flew down the hall and I didn’t look back. She could have him.

I
went
to the last place on earth I should have gone. There were so many reasons to stay away from bars—drinking itself being chief among them. The doctors had told me not to drink—that my liver couldn’t handle it. I probably should have listened to them.

I sidled up to the bar and ordered a double scotch, neat. I knocked it back as soon as the bartender delivered it and nodded at him to hit me again with another. I sat down on one of the bar stools while I waited.

It was still early—not even dinner time yet.
Fuck dinner
. The thought of having dinner now made me sick to my stomach. What had I been thinking, wanting to make dinner for her? I had teased her so much over the past few months about her inability to make something as simple as a hamburger. I had just wanted to stand next to her. Put my arms around her. And she had already moved on.

I nodded my thanks to the bartender when he brought me the next round. I scanned the bar and took a sip from the glass. There were a couple of co-eds in the corner, cute, but definitely not my type. A few lawyer types. And the woman. Shit.

I had seen this woman every now and then and I was sure she was a hallucination. I only saw her after I’d had a few, and even then, it was usually only when I was pissed off about one thing or another. During my last hospital stay, I’d had a long discussion with a nurse about the difference between delusions and hallucinations. Maybe if I hadn’t already put away a double scotch on an empty stomach and half a liver, I might have been able to remember what she had told me. That nurse had been nice to me, gone out of her way to talk to me. Flirt with me. If I hadn’t been so hung up on Jen, I would have been all over her. Hell if I could remember her name now. Holly? Maybe Molly. I took another sip and watched the co-eds across the room get up and take a table near me.

The woman got up, too. That was odd, because my hallucination—I was pretty sure that was what this was, a hallucination—came over to sit near me at the bar. She took a stool one seat away from me and sipped at a drink that looked suspiciously similar to what I was drinking myself. My hallucination didn’t usually interact with me. Maybe that meant she was becoming more of a delusion. Fuck, I wished I could think clearly enough to remember.

The co-eds were close enough that I could hear them giggling, and I knew someone was about to hit on me. I wasn’t sure they were even old enough to be drinking, let alone legal for me to do anything with them. I rubbed my temple before taking another sip from my glass. I had only made that mistake once, and it damn well wasn’t going to happen again tonight.

“Pick one. You need to get the Davis girl out of your system.”

I glanced over, and sure as hell, my hallucination was talking to me. It was definitely a delusion now. Or maybe the other way around. I drank the rest of my scotch in a gulp and nodded at the bartender for another. My head was already starting to spin, but I didn’t care. This was too good. My brain was fucking with me, having this woman talk to me. I knew it wasn’t real, but she was so
realistic
. Like my brain had aged her somehow to appear as she would today. If she wasn’t dead.

“The one in the Stanford t-shirt looks like your type.”

I found this fascinating. Of course she was my type—she could have almost passed for Jen except for the hair. My alcohol-fueled hallucination was telling me which girl of the two to choose. I shook my head and grabbed my new drink from the bar. I would always go for the shy one in the jeans and t-shirt over the sluttier one in the cocktail dress that was cut too low. I had never liked girls who tried too hard.

My delusion moved to the other end of the bar when the two girls came over, both giggling like young co-eds tend to do. I grinned despite myself. At least
someone
was still interested. There were at least two girls in the world who liked what they saw enough to try to flirt with me.

The sluttier one sat down next to me and the shy one took a seat a few places away on the slutty girl’s other side.

“So, we think lawyer.”

I raised an eyebrow and looked at the blonde girl sitting next to me. My eyes flicked over her cleavage—not bad. I could definitely have some fun with her, but she wasn’t the one who piqued my interest at the moment. “What makes you think that?”

She giggled. “The suit. Also just the way you carry yourself. Like you’re really confident.”

I nodded. It wasn’t the first time I had been mistaken for a lawyer. I should have taken the suit jacket off before I came in, though. It made
me
look like I was trying too hard.

“So, are you?” The girl cocked her head and I swear it looked like she thrust her chest out even further. Yes, she had great tits, but I didn’t need her to shove them in my face to see that.

I shook my head. “No. Not a lawyer.” I glanced down the bar at the other girl, the one that was dressed casually. She was the one I wanted to take home. Cute, brown hair, blue eyes. Not trying that hard. Not trying at all, actually. “Who’s your friend?”

The grin fell from the girl’s face. “I’m Lori.” She jutted her thumb behind her. “That’s Carly. She’s my designated driver.”

I nodded. “Isn’t that what cabs were made for?” I looked down at the other girl again and tried to make eye contact. She finally met my gaze and I saw her blush when our eyes met. She would be perfect for what I needed that night.

The girl sitting next to me leaned over to block my view. “So, do you want to buy me a drink?”

I motioned the bartender over, pulling out my wallet. “Long Islands for my friends.” I slid a hundred dollar bill across the bar to him.

The bartender shook his head and put the money in his pocket. “Only because I know you.”

Ah, the perks of being a regular. There was no way these girls were old enough to be drinking. They were probably freshman, newly minted co-eds, on campus for the first time. I took a sip of my own drink and watched as the girls started on theirs. I was going to give the cute one the night of her life, assuming I didn’t pass out from alcohol poisoning. I set my drink down and watched her.

The cute one moved closer to her friend and leaned around her to talk to me. “I’m not supposed to be drinking. And to be fair, Lori saw you first.”

I chuckled. “Doesn’t it matter who I saw first?”

Lori’s face turned red and her chest jutted out again. “Carly’s not on the market, anyway.”

A puzzled look came over the other girl’s face. “Who said that?”

I grinned and grabbed my drink again. I took a long, slow sip from the glass before setting it back on the bar. I let out a long breath. “Are you both legal?”

The slutty one’s eyes narrowed. “I’m twenty-one. You want to see my license, officer?”

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t give a shit if you’re old enough to drink or about your fake IDs. I just want to make sure I don’t get arrested for anything else we might do tonight.”

The cute one turned a bright shade of crimson and took a long drink from her straw. “We both are.”

“Good.” I drummed my fingers on the bar. “Where are you from?” I stared across at the cute one, my eyes lingering a little too long on the word “Stanford” emblazoned across her chest. Another few drinks of scotch and I knew it wouldn’t remind me of Jen’s “Hoyas” t-shirt anymore.

The slutty one replied. “You don’t think we’re from here?”

I turned my gaze to her. “No.” I looked back over at Stanford. “You. You’re from the Midwest. Nebraska. Maybe Iowa.”

She grinned and turned another shade of red before turning her gaze to her drink. “Ohio.”

“Close enough.” I turned to the slut. “You’re definitely California. Not NoCal, though. You’re all SoCal.”

Her face turned an almost identical shade of crimson. “Temecula.”

“Yep.” What could I say? I had always had a knack for figuring out where people were from and it turned girls on, at least girls who went to bars looking to be picked up. Jen had stumped me when I first met her, and it was part of the intrigue, I was sure. She had the beauty of the Midwest, the class of the east coast and the laid back attitude of the west coast. I never had been able to peg her, not until I found out who she was.

I needed to stop thinking about Jen now, though. I had two gorgeous co-eds, ready to let me take them
both
home. I glanced down to the end of the bar, curious to know what my delusion thought about that. Apparently, my brain didn’t need to project anything to get me to listen to it anymore, because the woman was gone. That had to be a sure sign I was doing the right thing.

“My place is just down the street. Would you two like to join me for dinner?”

They each looked at the other and nodded their agreement to the plan. I suddenly felt sick to my stomach. This wasn’t what I wanted. It wasn’t how I had planned this evening. But it would have to do for now.