29. Rook
“Don’t be that man,”Lux’s voice chastised me through the car speakers.
“What kind of man is that?” I bit out, angry. Lux and I had always gotten along, worked well together. But the day Summer entered the Magnolia, we’d argued non-stop.
It started with me, chastising her for letting Summer into the bank. Her, arguing back that she had no choice. Since then, we’d been at each other’s throats, our partnership quickly souring.
“The kind of man who takes advantage of a foolish girl,” she hissed. “She’s a child, Rook.”
I gripped the steering wheel, staring up at my house. Feeling Summer’s presence from all the way out here.
Ever since that day at the club, I hadn’t been able to stay away from her. In fact, I was cutting my working hours early, just to be with her.
“You, out of all people,” Lux kept on, “I would’ve thought better. But, maybe you’re like all the other men in the Magnolia. You just hadn’t found the right one yet. But now that you have?—”
“Hey, Lux?” I interrupted.
“Yeah?” Skeptical.
“Go fuck yourself. And if you ever call her foolish again, I will cut your tongue from your mouth.” I hit the screen, cutting off her angry response. I was tired of her nagging, and we weren’t even married.
And yet, she was right. Her words seeped into my mind like poison—I shouldn’t take advantage of Summer, not like this.
And I’d tried, I really had, avoiding her as much as possible.
“Kiss me,” her words, haunting me, that night at the club. I’d taken her there because young women shouldn’t be stuck in my stuffy home, all by themselves. They should be out having fun. Getting drunk and flirting with other people.
I’d meant to take her there and hang back, let her make some new friends. Have a life.
But as soon as I’d seen the bartender eying her like that, my own employee, or the way the other men in the club couldn’t keep their lust-filled gazes off her… Even though she was underdressed and without make up—she was the most stunning woman in the room, and everyone knew it.
I was fucking damned if I let any other man touch her.
And so, unable to stop myself, I’d taken her to the dance floor myself. Then became totally enthralled at the easy way she gave in and let go. Couldn’t stop touching her as the music moved through us both, pulling us together like two magnets.
And then, with those words, kiss me, I’d given in to temptation.
I’d wanted to fuck her then and there, the crowd be damned.
Slamming the front door behind me, I conceded that Lux was right. I needed to have a stricter control over myself.
I needed a buffer between us, maybe bring in Callie or that best friend she kept texting. Maybe even Benson, even though he didn’t like me much.
I also needed to keep to the rules.
No touching.Not even a little bit. And definitely no kissing.
Then, at the sight of her in my living room, all my rules and self chastisement fell away.
I was going to hell.
She was sitting on the floor in a pair of my sweat pants and my baggy t-shirt.
So goddamn beautiful. And so goddamn mine.
I wanted to pin her to the floor and fuck her. Make her choke on my cock, tears steaming down her face. Tie her to the coffee table and fill her belly until it was swollen with my cum. Lick it with my tongue as it leaked out, then fuck her again until every hole in her goddamn body was full of me.
Put a ring on that finger, and put a child in her, adding to the chaos she brought to my world.
A kid?!
Godfuckingdamn it, I was losing all control.
Besides, she was too young for that kind of fucking.
Adjusting myself, I forced my feet to move, noticing the bowl of cut-up fruit and a container of yogurt in her lap. There were wet splotches on my shirt and a dirty spoon on the table, yogurt smeared under it. I held back the sigh pressing against my lungs—realizing that yes, she was creating chaos in my normally meticulously organized world.
But, she was eating healthy food. And, by the laptop next to the splotches of yogurt—‘Netherveil Environmental Science’ displayed on the screen— she’d been doing her research for school. Just as I’d asked.
She might be chaos incarnate but she was also a fucking good girl.
She was learning.
Then my eyes roamed outwards and it took me a minute to take in everything else.
She’d somehow gotten into the side drawer next to my bed. The locked one. Found my box of pictures, and had them spread out on the floor around her.
Her hair was a tangled mess, her bright blue eyes clear but red-rimmed, as if she’d been crying. I tightened my hand into a fist. What had made her cry? I needed to fix it.
“What’s this?” My voice came out harsher than I’d intended.
“I’m sorry, I know I shouldn’t have. But I—I…” she gestured towards the pictures. “I had to know.”
“You had to know? Or you wanted to know?” I took off my coat and loosened my tie, tossing them on the sofa. Great, now I was becoming like her.
“It’s just that…I…” she struggled to find her words, and I took off my Oxford shoes and socks, stacking them neatly next to the couch before I sat on the floor across from her.
She took me in, my collar loose, my feet bare, her eyes widening, but I ignored her surprise and picked up the picture in between her legs.
It was of her and her mom, when she was little.
“So you did know me. You knew my family.” She paused, holding her breath, waiting to see if I would lie to her.
“Yes,” I admitted.
“But. Why? How? I don’t understand. And why don’t I remember?”
I studied the picture, remembering that day. She’d spent the day with her mom in the garden, when Melanie’d heard, “Mom! I help!”
When she’d turned around, Summer had pulled most of the newly planted flowers back out. She was holding one up by the top, a proud smile on her face. In the picture, they were both holding up the plants by their yellow flowers, dirt splayed in their hair, faces, and shirts. Grinning.
Summer, creating chaos since birth.
I met Summer’s eyes, filled with anticipation and sadness, hope, and a spark of anger.
“Your father,” I took in a deep breath, steadying myself. I knew this day would come but only now did I realize that I hadn’t prepared myself. Not enough. “He lied to you.”
Her face jerked backwards, as if I’d hit her.
And maybe I had, because sometimes, the truth hits hard.
“I know you loved him. I know he seemed like a good father, but?—”
“I may have loved him,” she interrupted me, “but he wasn’t the perfect father.” Her words were clipped, and filled with anger. I waited for her to expand on her words but, when she didn’t, I continued.
“Your father joined the Magnolia when he was eighteen, just like you. He had big dreams—wanted to be rich. He was young and stupid. And they reeled him in and trapped him, just like you. Everything was good at first, of course, because that’s how they play the game. You don’t even see the threads they wrap around you. Little by little, they draw you in, and you don’t even know you’re trapped until they decide to tighten it. I’m sure you’ve discovered that on your own…”
Once again, I waited for her to speak, but she remained still, her eyes on the photo, and I knew that it was still my turn to speak. That I hadn’t actually answered her question.
“Once they had everything they needed to trap him, they forced him to do things he never would’ve…” I caught myself. “They forced him to do things, and he obeyed them because his number one priority was keeping you guys safe. This went on for years, until, one day, he disobeyed. And your mother suffered for his rebellion.”
Silence filled the room.
Her eyes were frozen on the picture in my fingers.
I placed it on the floor next to her but she didn’t touch it. Instead, she looked up at me, her voice wavering. “And that’s why he sent me away. After she died. To protect me.”
I nodded. “Yes.”
“And Callie?”
“Callie was safe, for a while, because she was too young. But, when she was old enough, he sent her to be with you, too.”
“So in the end, they took all three of us from him.”
“Yes.”
She nodded, as if she’d figured all this out on her own, and my words were only the confirmation of it.
“And you?” She spread her hands across the photos of a combination of Douglass, Melanie, and me. There was even one of the five of us—the day before I left for college, with Douglass and Melanie standing behind me, looking tall and proud. Douglass was holding Callie, a newborn baby. Summer was by my side and, instead of looking at the camera, she was staring up at me with an awed look on her face.
There was a dry, heaviness in my throat.
I’d never spoken of this to anyone, not even my closest friend, Tatiana. It took me a moment to decide how much of the truth to tell her.
The moment was so strange—seeing pictures of Summer as a kid, so trusting of me, always. And now, here she was again. In my home. Trusting me once more. And yet, I was a different person than I had been then.
I didn’t deserve her trust, not that.
And yet, I could give her an inkling of a reason for it, if I wanted.
I could even tell her the whole truth—everything.
I was nervous, vulnerable in a way I’d never felt before. Would I—could I— be that person? It’d been so long since I’d opened up, I didn’t know if it was possible anymore. My palms were sweaty, my breathing heightened.
“Rook?”
As a kid, she’d always been able to detect my moods. Always running to comfort me if I was ever mad or frustrated or sad.
And now, just like then, she was staring into my eyes, into my soul, seeing me. The real me.
I was suddenly afraid.
Afraid to move, to speak. To tell my truths.
She made the first move. Reaching forward, she placed her hand on my knee, her eyes filled with concern. “It’s okay. You can trust me.”
Nerves fluttering in my stomach, I closed my eyes. I placed my hand over hers, not wanting her to remove it. “I know.”
How? When I didn’t trust anyone?
Somehow, I’d come to trust her.
Then suddenly, her hand was gone. An aching filled my chest at the removal, and my eyes blinked open. Pushing the pictures across the hardwood floor, she climbed into my lap, straddling it.
Wrapping her arms around my neck.
We were eye to eye.
Intense.
Fear.
She could see me.
Straight into my darkness.
I wanted to close my eyes, to shield her from it, to lock her out, but I didn’t dare.
I was no coward.
Instead, I looked into her eyes, allowing her to see it, feeling a trembling inside. It had been so long…
Would she hate me, betray me, hurt me, like all the others?
“Tell me,” she said softly, her hands cupping my face, forcing me to face her.
And I found the words flowing. “I, too, was a consequence of your father’s actions.”
“How?”
She waited patiently through the silence for me to explain. To recount one of the worst nights of my life.
But, with her so close, one of her hands sliding down to my chest, over my heart, as if to say that she would protect it, I didn’t slip into the memories that I’d pushed away. I stayed present, in the moment.
“Doug—your father, he found out that I owned property in an area which is now called Greybone Estates.”
“That big shopping center, with the fancy apartments.”
I nodded. “Back then, it was just a field. It was my only inheritance. I was living with my grandmother, and the Magnolia was trying to buy the land from me, but she wouldn’t let them. They’d bought all the surrounding property and she was the only hold out. She hadn’t even told me about it, was going to wait until I was old enough to build a home on it. And your father, he connected with the Vegas mafia. They—” It was hard to swallow, to force the next words through my mouth, “they promised him, for a large sum of money, that they would get me to sign the papers. And…”
It was too much. I couldn’t look into her eyes any longer. Instead I focused on her collarbone.
“They killed her. And, after that, it was easy.”
“Oh my God.” Her hand went to her mouth. “My dad did that?”
“That was before I knew him, of course.”
“But he knew?”
“They didn’t tell him how they were going to do it, and he didn’t ask.”
“Oh, Rook.” She ran her hands through my hair in a soothing motion, and I closed my eyes. It felt so good to be touched.
I think…I think that was the most tempting thing about Summer.
It wasn’t just the fact that I wanted to fuck her.
I could touch her. Feel her pressed to me in bed at night. To hold her close.
I missed being touched.
She continued to massage my head, and now that I’d confessed the truth, the words kept spilling out.
“It was my best friend, Knight. He took me out for my birthday while his father killed my Nana.”
“On your birthday?” Her fingers dug in deeper, making me sink even further into her touch. “What a shitty friend.”
“Yes. He was a shitty friend. Except that, he’d felt so bad, he connected me with your dad. And, since I was only fourteen at the time, I couldn’t provide for myself.” My voice grew soft. “When your dad found out what they’d done, I came to live with your parents. You were born a year after I arrived, and I lived in your home until you were about three years old, when I went off to college. After that, with the danger from the Magnolia, your dad thought it was better if you didn’t know about me.”
I opened my eyes, feeling the heaviness in my chest. The grief of Nana’s death. That the one person who loved me, the only one who’d never betrayed me—I couldn’t keep her safe. “I didn’t even know it was your father’s fault until he confessed it…on his deathbed.”
“Fuck,” she cursed softly under her breath. “I’m so sorry, Rook.”
“It’s not your fault.”
“That doesn’t mean I don’t feel sorry, that my dad did that to you.”
I shrugged a shoulder, trying to play off the pain. “It is what it is.”
She raised an eyebrow, seeing through my nonchalance, but didn’t say anything. Instead, she leaned forward, brushing her soft lips across my nose. “I’m sorry.” Her lips moved to my cheek, softly, sweetly peppering kisses across my face. “I’m so sorry.” Her arms pulling me closer, her fingers massaging, her warmth surrounding me. “So sorry.”
Once again, I closed my eyes, delving into the softness of her attention and affection. Feeling loved and cared for in a way I hadn’t in a long time.