Fixed on You (31 page)

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Authors: Laurelin Paige

BOOK: Fixed on You
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“Is it a standard USB? You can
take my car charger.”

I wanted to hug her. “Thank you,
Mira.”

“No problem.” She watched while I
set my suitcase in the rolling position. “Martin can get that.”

“I got it.” I didn’t want to wait
to call someone up to carry a suitcase I could manage myself. I scanned the
room one more time then started toward the door.

“Laynie.” Mira stopped me before
I’d crossed the threshold.

It was difficult to give her my
attention when every fiber of my body wanted to go. I fidgeted as I met her
eyes.

She took a step toward me, her
face soft and compassionate. “I know he loves you,” she said firmly. “I know he
does. But he’s been through...things...that’s made it hard for him to open up,
so please don’t take that as, well, as evidence of anything if he can’t tell
you how he feels.”

My eyes felt misty. Maybe Mira
was as snowed as I was, but it felt good to hear. I swallowed hard. “I know.”  

“Good.”

“But…” I might never get the
chance to have this conversation again. “Why do you believe that? I mean, what
makes you think that he loves me, or that he even can?”

Surely Mira knew the things
Sophia claimed about her brother. That he was a sociopath, that he couldn’t
feel anything for others. Unless all of that had been her mother’s way of riling
me up. But I suspected there was more to her claims than that—they were rooted
in truth somewhere, a therapist’s opinion, a doctor’s diagnosis.

Mira closed her eyes briefly and
blew out a steady stream of air. “I don’t know, Laynie. He’s different around
you. I’ve never seen him like he is with you.”

“Maybe you see what you want to
believe.”

“Maybe.” She stuck her chin out.
“But I’m not giving up on him. I hope you don’t either.”

“I won’t.” But Hudson might have
already given up on me.

And, if not me, himself.

Back downstairs, Mira left me in
the foyer to grab her phone charger from her car. Jack had gone to the garage
to bring the Mercedes up to the circle drive. I paced, waiting for him to pull
up.

I sensed Sophia behind me without
seeing her. Hoping she’d go away if I didn’t acknowledge her, I kept my eyes focused
on the front driveway. I was wrong.

“You shouldn’t be surprised that
he left you.”

I still didn’t look at her, but I
pictured the satisfied grin she likely wore, imagined myself slapping it off
her face. Violence never hurt as much as a good verbal argument, though.
Problem was, if I reacted to her bait, she could very well win. Again.

“I told, you he doesn’t feel
anything.” She was a warrior. Good at the game. I had no doubt she’d been the
one who taught Hudson to be so good at his own games. “For anyone,” she added.

“That’s a lie.” I had no chance
against her. She drew the reaction she desired. But if I had to spar, I’d put
my best fight into it. “I’ve seen proof to the contrary.”

“Because of how he seems to love
you? He’s a good actor.”

I spun to face her. “No, because
of how he seems to love you.” I spit the words like venom. “When there’s no
reason he should. When you’ve alienated him and betrayed him and destroyed him
and made him the confused man he is by your lack of affection and support and
faith. If he can continue to care about a piece of shit like you, after all
you’ve done to him, then I have no doubt of his capability of love.”
You
fucking bitch.

And then I opened the front door
and walked out, rolling my suitcase behind me, relieved to see Jack pulling up
as I did. Sophia didn’t follow.

Mira had given Jack the charger
in the garage. He handed it to me in exchange for my luggage. While he stowed
my suitcase in the trunk of the running car, I climbed in the front passenger
seat and plugged in the charger and my phone before securing my seatbelt.

We were on the road before my
phone had enough charge to turn on. I had twelve texts and four voice messages.
I opened the texts and skipped the eleven from Brian, going immediately to the
one from Hudson. “Plexis crisis. I’ll call as soon as I can.”

My heart sunk. I should have been
grateful that he’d left a message at all, but didn’t I deserve more? He had led
me to believe that I did.

I accessed my voicemail with only
faint hope. He’d never called me, and I doubted any of the messages were from
him. I listened long enough to the first one to hear Brian’s voice then
immediately deleted it and skipped to the next one. All were from my brother.
All were deleted without a full listen.

Jack was more considerate company
than I could possibly ask for. After asking me to enter my address into the
GPS, he offered enough small talk for me to understand he was there if I needed
him. Then he allowed me to wallow in silence.

For the better part of an hour, I
flipped my phone around in my hands, opening the text slider and closing it
again without using it. The old me—the crazy, obsessed me—would have already
sent a series of messages to Hudson, each heightening in tone and accusations.
It took everything in me not to physically do so, but in my head I let myself
compose them.

“Why did you go? Are you
really on a business trip?”

“I can’t do the on-duty
anymore. I quit.”

“Why won’t you let me in?”

“I love you.”

Finally I dropped my phone in my
purse, leaned my head against the window of the car, and closed my eyes. I’d
allow myself one well thought-out text when I got home. Then I’d go to a group
meeting. I just had to make it until then without doing anything stupid.

I must have fallen asleep because
when I opened my eyes again, we were outside my apartment building. There were
no spots available along the street, so Jack had turned on the emergency
blinkers and pulled up next to the line of parked cars.

Standing at the driver’s door,
Jack leaned across the top of the car. “If you wait here, I can find a spot
somewhere and help you up to your apartment.”

As harmless as Jack was, having
him in my apartment did not sound like a good idea. And I didn’t need the help
or the company. “I can get it. Thanks, though.” Standing on the curb with my
bag, I felt moved to say more, to express my overwhelming gratitude. “And thank
you for driving me here and for…well, for…”
For not treating me like Sophia
treats me
. “For being so kind.”

Dammit. I was choking up again.

He chuckled. “I’m not really that
kind. I just appear so in comparison.”

I didn’t have to ask whom he
meant to compare himself with. “Jack.” I shouldn’t keep him when he was parked
illegally, but suddenly I had to know. “Why are you still married to her?”

“I wish I could say it’s because
I remember the sweet woman she once was, but she was never a sweet woman.” He
looked off at the traffic behind him, not seeming to be bothered by the cars
honking as they passed in the next lane. “Sophia came to the marriage with a
couple of businesses given to us by her father. I took control when her father
retired and have spent my life making them successful. Now Hudson runs them. If
I divorced Sophia, the controlling interest would go to her. As long as we’re married,
she doesn’t care what we do with them. And she’d never ask for a divorce—it
would be too embarrassing.”

He turned back to face me. “I
wonder sometimes—if I’d let go of the businesses, divorced her when the kids
were still young, could I have changed how they are now? But she would have
gotten joint custody at the very least. And she may have messed them up even
more, retaliating against me. It’s not an ideal situation, but it is what it
is.”

Not an ideal situation
—it
was similar to what Hudson had said.
No, it wasn’t ideal, but it was
life.

In my small studio apartment, I
left my suitcase standing by the door and collapsed on my bed. Tears came, long
and steady. I couldn’t even say what I was crying for exactly. All I knew was
that I hurt. I hurt from Hudson’s departure, for his unwillingness to open up
to me. I hurt because the lines of our pretend and real relationship had become
so blurred that I couldn’t tell the difference anymore. I hurt from Sophia’s
words and hatred. I hurt for the mother she’d been to her son and for the
brother Brian had been to me. I hurt for the things I’d done to Brian, for the
things Hudson had probably done to his family.

Most of all I hurt because I was
alone and in love. And that was the worst combination of things to be.

An hour had passed before I’d
calmed enough to send the one text I’d promised myself I could. It was as
harmless as I could come up with—a message that said all I dared to say, afraid
more would scare him further away.
“I’ll be here when you return.”

Not even thirty seconds had gone
by after I pushed “SEND” when there was a knock on my door. We had a doorman in
the lobby—only building occupants were allowed in without prior approval. But
Hudson could pull strings, couldn’t he? He was the only person I knew with such
power.

The hope that it was him, as weak
of a hope that it was, propelled me to my feet and to the peephole.

The man in the hall wore a crisp
black suit with a yellow tie. But the face didn’t belong to Hudson—it belonged
to Brain.

I should have known it was Brian.
His name was on the lease, he’d be allowed up. I pressed my face against the
door and debated whether or not to let him in.

“Open up, Laynie.” Heavy banging
on the other side of the door jolted my face from its resting position. “I know
you’re in there. The doorman told me you came up.”

Fuck.
He must have been
staying in town—at the Waldorf, most likely. What the fuck was so important
that he had to see me? Maybe I should have listened to his messages.

Reluctantly, I opened the door
partway.

He pushed past me forcefully. He
was angry. Probably because I’d been ignoring him.

“What are you doing here, Brian?
Are you stalking me?” The joke made me smile even though Brian’s eyes only
glowed hotter.

“You haven’t returned any of my
calls.” I watched as Brian’s fists clenched and unclenched at his sides. I knew
he’d never hit me—at least, I hoped he’d never hit me—but I’d seen him rage
enough to punch holes in walls. Maybe it was a good thing his name was the
primary on the lease instead of mine. He’d have to pay for any damage.

I shut the door and turned to
face Brian with a fake smile. “Oh, did you call?” Innocent wasn’t usually the
best tactic with Brian, but I was too exhausted for anything else. “My phone’s
been dead and I’ve been out of town.”

“Yeah, I got that from your boss
at the club.”

God, he’d even called David. What
the fuck?

Brian ran a hand through his hair
then took a step toward me. “You were with him, weren’t you?”

“Him, who?” But I knew he must
have been referring to Hudson. That was the who I’d been with after all, and
David had known that. But why Brian cared was beyond me.

Brian slammed his fist down on
the top of my dresser. “Dammit, Laynie, don’t play games. This is serious.” He
took a step toward me, his eyes narrow slits. “Hudson Pierce. Were you with
Hudson Pierce?”

“Yes.” I crossed my hands over my
chest. “And Jonathon Pierce, for that matter. And Sophia Pierce and Mirabelle
Pierce and Chandler Pierce. At their Hampton house. Brian, what is your
problem?”

His brows rose almost as high as
his voice. “What is my problem?
You
are my problem. Always. Alayna, I
saw you in the society pages—you’re dating him?”

Well, no. But I kept that to
myself.

“You can’t date Hudson fucking
Pierce. Do you know who he is? Do you know
what
he is?”

For the briefest of moments, my
chest felt like it might burst. I had no idea how, but Brian knew about
Hudson’s games with women somehow and was worried about me. I hadn’t felt
concern from him in years. I didn’t realize how much I’d craved it.

Brian continued. “He’s a goddamn
giant, is what he is, Alayna. If you fuck with him—
when
you fuck with
him—I won’t be able to get you out of it. The Pierces are so big, they’ll
squash you like a bug.”

“Wait a minute, wait a minute.” I
swallowed, processing what Brian had said. “You’re not concerned for me, you’re
worried about…Hudson?”

“Why should I be concerned for
you?” He pointed his index finger toward me. “You’re the one with the history
of going mental over guys.”

“Get out.” I could only manage a
whisper.

“Harassment, drive-bys, breaking
and entering, stalking—” He held up a finger for each item he ticked off.

“Get out,” I said, stronger.
There were no words for the depths of betrayal I felt, no reason to even defend
myself against his accusations because he’d already marked me as guilty without
even giving me a trial.

“Were you even
invited
to
the Hamptons?”

“Get the fuck out!” I screamed.
“Get out! Get out! Get. Out!”

He didn’t move. “My name’s on the
lease, not yours.”

“Then I’ll get the lease changed.
Or I’ll move.” I crossed to the door and opened it for him. “But now I’m
telling you, so help me god, if you don’t leave I’ll call the cops and, even if
it gets me nowhere, it will at least occupy your life with yet another
embarrassing sister incident. So I’m telling you, get the fuck out, now.”

“I’m done, Alayna.” He raised his
hands up in a surrender position. Still he didn’t move.

“Get out!”

This time he stepped toward the
door. “I’m leaving, but I’m telling you, I’m done. Do not even think about
coming crawling back to me.” He turned back to face me after crossing the
threshold. “You’re on your own with this mess.”

I slammed the door in his face.

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