Fears and Scars (25 page)

“It can wait.”

“No. I’ll agree to your plan on one condition—you won’t wait to follow your dream.”

“Okay, baby. Whatever you want. Let’s get to bed. Jacob’s coming home from Mark’s in the morning.”

We go to the bedroom but instead of forgetting everything in each other for a while or going to sleep, we talk and talk and talk. We discuss things and make promises. We decide to tell Jacob and Mark the truth tomorrow but not to worry Nina. We’ll hire her a secret bodyguard instead, at least for the time being. And then we make love.

“I’ll keep you safe,” Ryan vows just before I fall asleep.

That’s what I’m most afraid of—the lengths he’ll go to protect me.

T
he next morning
, I’m on the verge of panic.

Jacob will arrive any minute now, and I’m freaking out. What if he doesn’t like me? We seemed to hit it off in the emails, and we video chatted a couple of times. So why does meeting him seem so huge?

Because it’s huge to meet your brother for the first time, you moron.

Ryan’s brows draw together. “Are you feeling all right? You sure you don’t need to go to the hospital? I can arrange for a doctor to come here.”

My head is a bit hazy from the little sleep we had. Nothing a coffee won’t cure. I give him a small smile. “I’m fine.”

I take a sip of the latte he’s made for me. “So Jacob basically knows nothing about what happened in Seattle?”

“Mark and I decided not to worry him when you were … taken, but I called him from the hospital later and promised you’d explain everything when you were ready. You don’t have to tell him everything right away. He’s a cool kid. He’ll understand if you need some time.”

I blink and shake my head. “I’m not worried about telling the truth. I’m worried he’ll hate me or something.”

“He won’t. He thinks you’re awesome,” Ryan says, giving me a sidelong glance while he scrambles some eggs for breakfast. Seeing him moving so flawlessly in the kitchen is bizarre.

“Why have I never seen you cook before?”

“I’m not a very good cook, Liz. Compared to you, I’m terrible, but I can make breakfast food. Plus, from how your foot’s tapping, I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to hold a knife.”

“You aren’t holding any knives,” I point out.

“I will in a moment. I’m making us sandwiches too. Jacob likes food as much as I do. Plus, Mark is always hungry. Eggs won’t cut it.”

I draw in a calming breath. It doesn’t help. There’s too much adrenaline pumping in my veins. Maybe walking will help.

I stand from the stool and start circling around the kitchen, distracting myself with the pristine white shelves and stainless steel that shines in the morning light.

Ryan gives me another concerned look.

I give him another wide, fake smile.

“Have I told you how sneaky your brother can be?” he asks me, snagging three plates from the cabinet.

“No.”

“Well, he’s smart. And when he moved in, he quickly figured out how competitive I can be. The little shit used it all the time. He drove me crazy with his ‘I get why you order everything in. I bet you can’t even make an omelet. I bet you don’t know how to hold a knife.’ I fought the urge to prove him wrong for a while. Then one morning Mark came and made us killer pancakes. I saw it written all over Jacob’s face how much he liked it, but I wasn’t sure it was because the three of us had breakfast together or because someone cooked something for him. That day I saw something else in his eyes, something familiar because I saw it thousands of times in Mark’s eyes when he was small. It was the desire to have a family, to belong. Since then, I’ve tried to cook something when I had time.”

He spoons the eggs onto three plates like he didn’t just melt my heart.

Before I can thank him, I hear a click, and then a voice calls, “I’m home. If you two are doing some gross stuff, stop, please. I’m seeing a therapist as it is.”

And then I see my brother standing in front of me. He looks just like on computer screen, but taller than I imagined.

Jacob walks to me and greets me with a huge hug. “It’s so good to finally meet you, sis.”

My throat tightens and burns. I clench my teeth down on my lip to keep my composure and squeeze him harder.

Struggling to swallow against my closing throat, I whisper, “I dreamed about this for so long.”

“Me too. I’m so damn happy that you’re here.”

When I release him and step back, he beams at me and adds, “We’ll have tons of time to catch up.”

Yeah, until psycho Senator kills me and all the people I love.

Despite my dark thoughts, I force a smile in return.

His eyes are gentle as he appraises at me, and then turns to greet Ryan. My heart flip-flops in my chest as they hug and laugh and smack each other on the back.

“Hey, Liz.” Mark comes closer, flashing me his golden-boy smile, and kisses my cheek. “How are you feeling?”

“I’m fine. I’m great actually,” I say watching Jacob.

Once all three of us finish making sandwiches, we sit down at the dining room table.

“It smells damn good in here,” Jacob comments.

“Language,” Ryan instinctively snaps back.

“I mean it looks like crap because you cooked it, dude.”

“Two days without computer games.”

“Ouch.”

Hot tears slip from the corners of my eye as I listen to their banter, but I quickly wipe them away before anyone can notice.

Ryan slides his hand across the table until our fingers touch. Our eyes meet and I know—somehow everything will be fine. I have a family now. We all do. And together we’re going to get past everything. We’re going to be okay.

“
H
ey
, baby doll. I miss you,” Nina’s says with a faint smile as we video chat. Her hair is pulled into a messy bun on top of her head and she wears her favorite pink fleece pajama.

“I miss you too, blondie.”

“How’s New York treating you?”

“Good. Very good.”

The last six weeks passed in a second. Most days, while Jacob is at school, Ryan and I explore the sheets and the city. Then I spend time with my brother while my boyfriend goes into the office for a few hours. There are no words to describe how amazing it feels to have a brother. It’s something I’ve never imagined experiencing, and I couldn’t be happier for such a blessing. Ryan, Mark, Jacob, and I have regular family breakfasts, dinners, and video game battles. All in all, things seem great.

I’m settling into my new life with love in my heart and a smile on my face. I try to live for today, to allow myself to breathe and be happy, yet it doesn’t feel like we’re starting the next chapter of our lives. It feels like all four of us are waiting for something. The fear is always there, like a shadow against our backs. When my thoughts wander to Deborah, I rein them in. Worry shouldn’t define my life. Maybe I’m being optimistic, but it’s better than running.

“How’s your fancy barbarian? Still refusing to leave your side?” my friend asks.

Nina doesn’t know the truth about my biological father, and each time she sees or hears Ryan next to me, she think it’s because indication of his overprotective nature, but reality is different. My kidnapping hit Ryan hard. Even after all this time, we still live with its aftermath. The nightmares started almost as soon as we returned from Seattle. I woke up one night to him thrashing and struggling in his sleep. He admitted reliving different scenarios of losing me again and again almost every night since then. It breaks my heart each time seeing him struggling like that. Even though he sees a therapist regularly and reassures me he’s going to be fine soon, I know the fear that crept in the day I was taken hasn’t left him. It still lives under his skin, causing him to clutch me just a little tighter at night and kiss me a little more desperately.

“He went to the office this morning, actually. With the upcoming opening of Price Designs, he has tons of work to do.”

“How’s Jacob?”

“Oh, he runs his mouth a lot, but other than that, he’s amazing. It’s fascinating to watch Ryan ground him every time he does something wrong or makes a mess.”

“Well, I couldn’t be happier for you, sweets. You deserve all the happiness in the world.”

“How’s Moscow?”

“Same old, same old. I’m considering going to L.A. for Christmas, but it may not be such a good idea. I don’t want to hurt my mom’s feelings. We celebrate it on January 7
^th
here, but it’ll still be tough for her.”

“You need to consider your feelings too. Is it something you want to do? To spend Christmas with your father?”

“I’m not sure. His family must have some traditions, but the last thing I want to do is be a fourth wheel.”

“Then come here. We haven’t discussed it yet, but I’ll probably make a huge dinner like on Thanksgiving. We miss you, Nina.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, my blood runs cold. Shit, inviting her over isn’t such a good idea. How will I explain the three bodyguards I have?

Before I come up with some excuse, Nina asks me, “Remember our first Christmas together?”

I do. It was one of the hardest days on my life. Granny had been settled into the clinic that morning and I came back home to an empty apartment. A knock on the door interrupted my wallowing.

When I opened the door, Nina was standing there with a present. “Fleece pajamas to keep you warm,” she announced. And when I said, “Surprise is ninety percent of the gift,” she was quick to point out, “You know how the saying goes: If someone gifts you a horse, you don’t check his teeth. Or something like that. It’s considered ungrateful. Got it?”

When I nodded, she invited herself in, made me dinner, then tea, and suggested that I find a roommate to make extra money. We’ve changed so much since then. Our lives took unexpected turns and now we live on different continents, but our friendship remains constant. I can only hope it stays like that forever.

“I brought you a present, and you were grumpy, but we had fun.”

“We watched
Home Alone
,” I add.

“Yeah. I coerced you into taking in a roommate i.e. me that night.”

“We always had two Christmases after that.”

“And we always watched
Home Alone
on December 25th and
Home Alone 2
on January 7th. I suppose I can consider coming if you promise we watch
Magic Mike XXL
after. Oh, and we should have lunch on the Met steps like we’re in
Gossip Girl
. And the
Sex and the City
Tour. We have to do that. I’m so coming, sweets.”

We chat some more about her job and life before she decides to go to bed. The time difference still feels weird—it’s just a lunch time for me and already evening for her.

“Liz, you home?” I hear Mark’s familiar voice as I click my laptop shut.

“In here.”

My gaze goes to the open bedroom door and collides with Mark, who is breathing hard and pulling at the neck of his dress shirt that’s already hanging open and loose.

Fear hovers close to the surface these days.

“What is it?” I question, hopping up from bed. “Is it Ryan?”

“No.” He shakes his head, his anxiety is loud and clear in his tone. “I did something and … Fuck, have you seen the news?

“No. What’s there?”

“I screwed up, Liz.”

My heart leaps into my throat and my mouth goes dry.

“Mark, you’re scaring me. What’s going on?” I ask him, my voice shaky.

His jaw tightens. “It’s … God, sis. I don’t know how to tell you this.

“I think I killed your father.”

“
I
can’t believe
you yanked me out of a staff meeting. What were you thinking, Jon?” Deborah fumes in the front seat of my car as I navigate my way through traffic.

“I was thinking I have a daughter and we should discuss it.”

To find out I have a daughter from a newspaper article is surreal. For so long I berated myself for sleeping with Grace at that party. We were both drunk and we liked each other from school, but she was too young for me, too beautiful. She wasn’t in the right state to make any decisions that night. I was older. I should have known better, but now I’m glad I didn’t.

Because now I have a daughter.

“We were coming up with a strategy in that office, you know.”

“So you’d rather discuss this situation with strangers instead of with your husband?”

“My career is on the line, not yours. And those ‘strangers’ know what to do.” She sighs in exasperation and start taping on her phone. “I can’t believe that bitch revealed the truth. I’ll destroy her.”

I slam on the brakes so hard, the car jolts. Deb’s phone goes flying into the windshield and then onto the floor. She makes no attempt to pick it up.

“You knew about Elizabeth,” I state rather than ask.

“I did. I have to know such things, Jon, to save my ass. If I didn’t take care of your situation with your mistress last week, we would have been on the front pages—”

“Shut up, Deb. Just shut up!” My foot gets heavier on the gas pedal as I press it more forcefully. “We aren’t discussing Marianna now.”

“Excuse me? How dare you talk to me like that.”

I tighten my grip on the wheel, completely beside myself. “How dare you hide the fact that I have a daughter from me.”

“Don’t scream at me. I was doing what’s best for us.”

“You were doing what was best for you. You knew Grace was pregnant, didn’t you? I was foolish enough to admit I spent the night with her when I was breaking up with you back in college. You knew I liked her. You knew and you lied. You lied and said you were the one with a baby.”

“I had a miscarriage!”

Bullshit.

“I don’t believe a single word coming from your mouth. Not anymore.” Anger spirals through me. “Did you really kill my baby’s parents? And don’t lie, because I know Paul’s death is on your hands. You couldn’t let him win.”

The article stated that my wife was responsible for two plane crashes.

“Paul was a weak sleaze ball.” She flips down the visor and checks her hair and makeup in the mirror.

Unbelievable.

“He didn’t deserve to die.”

“He didn’t deserve a Senate seat. I did. As for your Grace, I had no idea she was pregnant at first. I was young, in love, and you hurt me. Plus, I needed a husband and my dad thought you were a perfect candidate. That’s why I told you I was pregnant when you broke up with me. I couldn’t lose you. Our engagement was public knowledge when I found out that tramp was pregnant. The invitations were sent. It’d ruin my reputation. I asked Dad to take care of it. He bribed her parents or something. He made sure she wouldn’t say a word to you or anyone. I trusted him.”

My fingers bite into my steering wheel, my nails impressing on the leather. “Did you kill Elizabeth’s parents or not?”

“I didn’t. I’m telling you the truth, Jon. I swear. Plus, I had no reason to kill them. They knew nothing about you.”

“You’re saying it was a coincidence?”

“I am, but I don’t owe you an explanation. The mistake you made twenty-three years ago can cost me my career. Thank me for not killing your bastard daughter when I had a chance.” Her words strike me like an arrow. “And slow down if you want her to keep breathing.”

“She’s my blood. A part of me,” I whisper.

“Not the brightest part from what I saw. She is pretty, but—”

“Shut the fuck up. You don’t get to say a single word about her.”

“You raise your voice one more time, Jonathan North and I swear she won’t live to see tomorrow. And if you think about having a relationship with her, forget it. I will never let that happen. I won’t allow your guilt or paternal instincts to destroy everything I’ve worked so hard for. We’ll tell people it was a mistake, that you were an alcoholic or drug addict at the time. You’ll make a public apology …”

I tune her out. I will never apologize for creating a life, but I will apologize to my daughter for everything.

It starts to rain and I turn on the windshield wipers. The rhythmical sound of them dragging back and forth calms me a bit.

Deborah asks me something, but I ignore her. Mostly because my throat feels constricted from all I just found out. Or maybe I can’t speak from the anger I feel toward my wife. For years I allowed her to manipulate me, lie to me. I drowned myself in work—the only escape from all the troubles in my life—and I was somewhat content as long as she left me alone.

I sigh and scrub a hand over my face.

I have a daughter. An angel who I have to take care of. That’s what parents do. They protect their children. I’ve lost so many years with Elizabeth, but I can be there for her now if that’s something she’d like. I can move to New York. The only thing standing in my way is Deborah, but she’s mistaken if she thinks she can prevent me from meeting my daughter. I have dirt on her. Enough dirt to bury her.

When I look at the road again, a huge truck is coming right at us.

“Jon! Look out!” is the last sound I hear before everything goes black.