Jack's Devotion

Chapter Ten

Madison

S neaking into my father's office before the company even opens for the day is…exhilarating in a way I didn't expect. I always thought facing him again would be terrifying. But I'm not afraid. With Jack and Dillon watching my back, it's hard to feel that way. It's hard to feel anything but relief that this is finally almost over.

After today, I get my life back. Madison Bell and Madison Lauren get to merge into one person again. I get to stop hiding. I'm no longer invisible. I just get to be me. Madison Whitlock, the girl who was once Madison Laurent and once Madison Bell. I'm neither of them now, and both of them still. And I'm someone else, too.

I'm Jack's. Every cell, every atom, every piece of me belongs to that wild man. Closing this chapter means opening a whole new book. One with him. That's what my mom would want for me. It's what I want for me too.

My father has made a lot of changes to the company since I've been away. It's ugly now, everything modern and square and blah. But the one thing he forgot to change was the locks. My keys still work.

A security guard catches us slipping inside and heads in our direction.

"Shit," Jack mutters, tensing beside me.

"It's fine," Dillon says.

The guard stops in front of us, looking between the three of us. "Sheriff," he says, glancing at Dillon before his gaze settles on me, confusion sweeping through his hazel eyes. "Uh…"

"You recognize her?" Dillon asks him.

The man nods.

"Then you know this is her company."

"Is she back to take over?" he asks, glancing between the two of us with a furrow between his brows.

"She will be if you don't go running your mouth to anyone about the fact that she's here," Jack growls. "No one needs to know."

The guard glances at him, his lips pursed. "Know what?" he mutters after a minute. "I ain't seen nothing."

The three of us inhale a collective sigh of relief.

The guard backs away, his gaze coming to me again. "I hope you're a better boss than he is, ma'am," he says. "We could use that around here."

"Plan to be," I whisper.

He nods before turning on his heel and disappearing around the corner.

"Think he's going to rat us out?" Jack asks Dillon.

"He won't," I murmur, confident of that fact. I could see it in his eyes. He hates working for my father. I'm guessing most people here feel the same way. That's going to change.

We make a beeline for the elevators, taking them up to the executive offices. Like the rest of the building, he's turned it into a homage to modern functionality. There is no personality, no charm. I hate everything about it.

"This way," I murmur, leading Jack and Dillon toward the corner office that used to be my mom's. My stomach churns when we step inside and I see what he's done with it. Not a single trace of her remains. There is no soul, no heart. It's just…crap. Every article that mentions him is framed on the walls. Anything about my mom and her parents has been erased, the same way he tried to erase me. It's like a shrine to himself.

"Prick," Jack mutters, placing a hand on the small of my back.

I lean into him, letting him steady me.

"Where should we be?" Dillon asks, striding toward the desk to plant a recording device beneath it.

"Bathroom." I point it out. It's tucked into the corner of the office. They'll be able to hear everything from in there without being seen. And anything they don't hear, the recording device will pick up. Judge Hamilton signed the warrant for it. I guess he is a big softie.

I stride toward the wall of news articles about my father and set to work turning the frames upside down.

"What are you doing?" Jack asks, amusement in his voice.

"If I'm going to haunt him, might as well do it properly," I mutter.

I hear something scraping across the floor, and turn to see him flipping furniture upside down.

I smile at him, my heart fluttering. God, I love him.

"Jesus Christ," Dillon mutters, shaking his head at the two of us. "Just don't destroy anything. I don't want him trying to file charges for vandalism."

"It's my company."

Dillon shakes his head again, disappearing inside the bathroom.

Jack and I work quickly, flipping furniture upside down, turning photos around, and generally screwing up his office. It doesn't really make me feel any better. But at least it doesn't look like his office anymore. It just looks…ridiculous.

We've barely finished when we hear voices trickling in from outside. Jack immediately strides toward me, pulling me into his arms. "I love you," he whispers, brushing his lips across mine. "We'll be right here."

"I know," I murmur, pressing my face to his throat and breathing him in. "Thank you."

"Thank me by nailing his ass to the wall, baby." He squeezes me tight and then lets me go, stomping toward the bathroom. With one final look over his shoulder at me, the door clicks closed between us.

I take up residence behind the hall door, that way my father will be trapped in here with me once he sees the condition of his office. Better he sees me after he's seen it, I think. That'll really spook him.

He's nearly half an hour late to work. But I hear him before he even gets close to his office. He's ranting at someone about a shipment, threatening to pull a contract. Of course he bullies everyone. Beneath that fake charm, it's all he really knows how to do.

"Just get the damn shipment here," he snarls when he's outside the door. "I don't care who you have to undercut to make it happen, Charles. Do it."

His office door flies open, nearly smacking me in the face.

"Jesus Christ, do I have to do everything around this shithole?" he mutters to himself, slamming the door. "Bunch of fucking… What the fuck?"

I watch as he jerks to a stop, glancing around. Bewilderment filters through his expression as he notices the furniture flipped upside down. Confusion turns to anger, tightening around his lips as he sees the photos turns upside down on the wall. His shoulders stiffen as he turns, ready to march right back out and start firing people, probably.

I step from the shadows, blocking his path.

"Jesus Christ!" he practically shouts, leaping backward.

"Hi, Daddy. Did you miss me?"

"M-Madison?" He stares at me exactly like he's looking at a ghost. Just a few days ago, seeing that look on his face would have brought me immense satisfaction. I wanted him scared. I wanted him nervous. I wanted him quivering in his expensive loafers. I wanted him to feel the same way I did when I was hiding in that closet, listening to my whole world cave in around me.

Now? Well, now I just want him in prison. I want this over. And I want to move on.

"Surprised to see me?" I ask, arching a brow. "Let me guess…you thought I was dead?"

"Madison, I…" He gulps. "I've looked everywhere for you!"

"Really? Did you look over the side of cliff you wanted Kenneth McDougal to make sure I crashed over? I bet you didn't look there, did you?"

If I didn't already know he was guilty, the way he pales slightly would tell me everything I needed. But he tries to bluster his way through it, anyway. "What are you talking about, sweetheart?"

"You know what I'm talking about, daddy . I was snooping in your office that day. I wasn't supposed to be in there, so when you came in, I hid in the closet. I figured you'd be in and out, and then I could scurry back to my room," I say, pacing toward him. He paces backward, toward his desk, which is precisely where I want him so the recording device picks up every word he says. "Imagine my surprise when I heard you plotting to have someone run me off the road so you could take the company and my trust fund."

"That's… You don't understand."

"You're right. I don't understand how my own father could plot my murder. I don't understand how he could let me disappear for seven years and never look for me. There's a lot I don't understand," I say, my voice level. "But I absolutely understand what I heard. I understood it so well that I fled. Because I understood that if I stayed, you'd have me killed just so you could have this company and Mom's money."

"It was supposed to go to me!" he snaps. "I was supposed to inherit everything. Instead, she left it to you."

"And that makes what you did right?" I shake my head. "You were my father! And you didn't deserve anything of hers, not after the way you treated her!"

"I'm still your father, Madison. Obviously, you're still here. What I did back then…it was wrong. I know it was. But it worked out all right, didn't it? You're still here."

"So what? We just forgive and forget? You give me the company on my birthday, and we let bygones be bygones?"

"Well, now…"

"I didn't think so," I mutter, staring at him in disgust. "I know you plan to have me declared deceased on my birthday, daddy ."

"You've been missing for seven years. What was I supposed to do?"

"Gee, I don't know. Look for me?" I roll my eyes at him. "When I was little, you were my hero. Did you know that? I idolized you. And then I realized that you never really loved me. I was a mean to an end for you, a pawn to keep Mom from leaving you with nothing. You pretended to care so she lived in fear of you taking me away from her. And she stayed because she would have rather suffered as your wife than risk letting you get custody of me when she knew you'd never let her see me again."

"That's not true."

"Yeah, it is," I say softly. "She was dying of cancer, and you did that to her. That's the kind of person you are. And now, you want to have me declared dead so you can take the company she left me because you're still that person. You'll always be that person. The only person you care about is you."

"The company is mine, Madison. I've been running it for seven years. No judge will allow you to just swoop in and take it," he says, squaring his shoulders.

"That's where you're wrong. Every judge will let me swoop in and take it because it belongs to me. You may be the acting director, but the company is mine. It's been mine since I was seventeen. You may be able to erase my mom from this office, but you can't erase me or my family from this company just because you want it for yourself."

"We'll see about that," he snaps, anger sizzling in his eyes.

"I guess we will," I say. "You may be able to fight me. But we both know you can't fight my husband. You don't have that kind of money."

"Husband?" He glances at me sharply, his gaze falling to my ring finger. "You're married?"

Yeah, you jerk. I am, and you know exactly what that means for you. Even if you kill me now, you get nothing.

"I am." I smile, cocking my head to the side. "In fact, I'm sure you know him. Jack Whitlock. Ring any bells?"

None of this has been satisfying at all. But the way he pales four shades before turning a sickly shade of green? That's satisfying.

"J-Jack Whitlock?" he stammers.

"Mmhmm," I hum.

He stares at me for a long moment before something flashes in his eyes. It's pure evil. Pure hatred. The sign of a man who knows he's lost but intends to fight anyway. One who intends to punish.

He takes a staggering step toward me, his hands raised like he plans to wrap them around my throat. There's no humanity in his eyes, nothing but rage.

"Jack!" I scream without hesitation, scurrying backward.

"Touch her, and I'll kill you where you stand, you miserable piece of shit," Jack snarls from behind him, charging out of the bathroom like an enraged bull. He plows into my father, knocking him to the ground.

He yanks my father's head back, plowing his fist into his face.

My father groans, listing to the side as blood pours from his nose.

I kind of expect Jack to keep hitting him, but he doesn't. He just tosses him aside like a ragdoll, stepping over him to get to me. I'm in his arms in a second, in my favorite cage.

"You okay, baby?" he asks, his face buried in my throat.

"Yeah," I whisper, clinging to him. "I'm okay." I glance over his shoulder at Dillon. "Did you get what you need, Dillon?"

"Yeah, sweetheart. I got it."

I sigh in relief, looking at my father. He's still on the floor, holding his bleeding nose. Jack was right. He isn't a monster. He's just a man. Just a miserable, greedy, selfish man. And now, he's beaten.

"I forgive you," I murmur to him. "I never want to see you again, and I hope you rot in prison. But I forgive you because I'm not going to be like you. I'm not going to let hate and anger define me and my life. I refuse to live that way or hurt people because I'm a miserable human being."

"Madison, wait," he pleads, reaching out for me.

Jack steps on his hand, bones crunching beneath his boot.

"I told you not to fucking touch her," he growls when my father howls in pain.

I'm not really surprised when no one comes to investigate his cries. Men like him? Well, no one really cares what happens to them. They're just glad when it finally does.

"If you're here today because you thought Drake was stepping down from the company, you're wrong," Jack says a few hours later, standing in front of a packed crowd in the foyer of his building. "We floated that story for a reason that's no longer entirely relevant. But what is relevant is this: Madison Laurent disappeared seven years ago to save her own life. Her father was plotting to kill her to gain control of Bellange Parfum and her inheritance."

A ripple of shock goes through the crowd.

"As of this morning, he's in jail. The man he hired to kill her will be testifying against him. We have recordings of him admitting to what he did." Jack's gaze cuts across the crowd. "My wife is safe."

"Did he say wife?" someone asks.

"Yeah, I said wife," he says, glancing toward the office where I'm hiding out of view. We considered having me up there with him to make this announcement, but at the end of the day, it's not the publicity I care about. It's the truth. And honestly? I'd rather Jack tell it than have to be the one to do it myself. It's easier that way.

"Madison and I were married yesterday," he continues. "We probably would have been married years ago had none of this happened. She's home where she belongs, and she's safe. Come on out here, baby."

I swallow hard, slipping out of the little office to do my part. Everyone turns to look at me. I give them a nervous smile before taking Jack's hand, allowing him to pull me up against his side. It's not as terrifying as I expected. How could it be with him standing at my side?

"Madison! Will you be taking control of Bellange Parfum ?"

"The company was always mine," I answer, leaning toward the microphone. "My father was only meant to run it until I was old enough. So yes, I will be assuming control."

"Are you and Jack really married?" someone else shouts.

"Yes, we're married."

"Like really married? Asking for a friend," some guy asks, grinning.

A ripple of laughter goes through the crowd when Jack scowls daggers at him. "Do not make me come down there, Alex."

The guy throws his head back, laughing.

"Yes, we're really married."

"Where have you been for the last seven years?"

"I…" I freeze on that question. The answer is so simple, yet it's not. I've been surviving. I've been in hell. I've been growing stronger and braver. And I've been learning how to face my demons. Los Angeles doesn't really cover all of that, now does it?

"She kept herself safe in Los Angeles," Jack answers for me, squeezing my fingers. "And that's all the questions we'll be answering. Keep your nosy asses out of our business and let us live our lives. Bug Dillon. I heard he has plenty of time."

Dillon shoots him a dirty glare, but Jack just grins.

"Oh, yeah," he says. "One more thing. The part in our cover story about Drake and Madeline expecting a baby is actually true. Give them privacy too, etc., etc. Peace out." He practically drags me away from the crowd, laughter trailing in our wake, leaving Dillon to fend for himself as everyone starts shouting questions.

"You're a wild man, you know that?" I ask him when he pulls me into the nearest office and slams the door shut.

"Yeah, but you love me anyway." He smirks, pushing me up against the door.

"I do," I whisper, sinking my hands into his hair. "I really, really do, Jack."

"Good because you're stuck with me now," he grunts, claiming my lips in a fierce kiss that leaves me breathless and dizzy.

"How are you feeling?" he asks, running his fingers through my hair as we snuggle in bed later that night. "You okay?"

"Yeah." I stretch against him, yawning. "I'm good. I'm…at peace, I think?"

"Yeah?" He smiles at me, his expression soft. "You look like you're at peace right now."

That's probably because he's been all over me since we got home. I don't think his hands have left my body once for the last several hours. Definitely not complaining. My favorite place in this world is him on top of me, making me come in delicious, delightful ways.

"You were right."

"I usually am."

I poke him in the ribcage, which just makes him laugh. I swear, there is no getting him down from whatever cloud he's on. He's just…really fucking happy. All the time. Did I do that? God, I hope so.

"You are not usually right," I mutter. "You're probably wrong like ninety-eight percent of the time. But you were right about my father. He isn't a monster. He's just a man. Just a selfish, sad man."

"I'm right ninety-eight percent of the time, and yeah, he is. He's also a heartless fucking prick who deserves to die alone in prison," he growls, tugging me closer to him. "You may have forgiven him, but I won't."

"Anger turns ugly, Jack. It gets dark."

"Fine with me." He brushes his lips across my forehead. "I've got your light to help balance the scales. You keep pouring it over me, and I'll keep being pissed at Gerald. It'll wash in the end."

I stare at him for a long moment. "Just promise me something."

"Anything," he says immediately.

"Promise you won't let it rule you. I did that. When I came back here…" I swallow. "Well, all I thought about for a long time was how much I wanted him to pay. It's like every step I took was to prepare me to face him again, to get revenge. Don't let that happen to you."

"Baby." He cups my cheeks, brushing his nose against mine. "It won't ever rule or consume me. It can't. You know how I know?"

"How?"

"Because you already do those things, Madison. You're the only thing capable of that," he murmurs. "It's always been you. It'll always be you. Nothing else will ever fucking compete. It can't."

"Jack," I whisper softly.

"I mean it, baby. You've been haunting me since I met you. Somewhere along the way, you consumed me. I'm yours in every way. All the way down to my fucking soul. Your father will never be able to compete with the way I feel about you. Nothing will."

I bury my face in his throat, inhaling a shaky breath. "I'm yours too. Every single piece of me."

"Oh, yeah?" He slips his hand between our bodies, cupping my pussy. "What about this piece?"

"Definitely yours," I moan. "Absolutely yours."

"Mm." He prowls down my body. "Maybe I should check. Just to make sure."

"Yeah, do that."

He smirks…and then he sets me ablaze. Again.