Chapter 25
Paisley
I ’m still a little shaken from the altercation with my father, but I have work to do, so instead of heading home after my shift at the flower shop like I wanted to, I’m here at city hall with Beckett stuffing swag packs. The only positive with being so busy is I don’t have time to think about Noah. Well, not really anyway. I saw him watching me through his bedroom window again this morning; he didn’t even hide how creepy he was being. Apparently now he’s blatantly observing me every chance he gets. The thing that worries me the most is the fact I kind of like it. I find myself looking for him, wondering if he’s home, if he might start texting me again. After what happened between us the other night, all I can think about is how much I want his eyes on me. And I’m not sure how messed up that makes me, but I know it’s not normal.
“Your father’s been arrested,” Beckett’s announcement breaks me from my thoughts.
I look up and find Beckett standing right in front of me, his gaze fixed on his phone. “What are you talking about?” I ask, confused, my heart kicking up a beat.
He hands me his phone, and I scroll through photos of my daddy cuffed and being shoved into a police car right outside his office. “What the hell?”
“Hamilton says he’s been arrested for assaulting Noah. They’re calling it a politically motivated hate crime.”
My skin goes all clammy. He beat up Noah? What on earth was Noah doing at the clinic today, and why would my father beat him up? I knew after our lunch that he hated him still, but this is next level. I have so many questions. “How does Hamilton know?”
Beckett gives me a smug look. “We know everything that happens in this town,” he replies, as if it’s just that simple. “The story will run in the morning. It’s already up online now. Whoever doesn’t know yet will by tomorrow. What are you going to do about it?”
What does he mean? After the lunch I had with my daddy, I’m still furious. I meant what I said, I’m done with him. After years of abuse and neglect, maybe this is what he deserves. “Nothing. If he’s assaulted a man, he deserves to be charged. And for the town to know how violent he is.” I get back to stuffing the merch bags for our breakfast tomorrow like nothing happened.
“He’s your father, Paisley,” Beckett says like I’m being a heartless bitch. But he doesn’t know my father. Part of me is happy he’s finally getting what he deserves. “We can have the family lawyer down there in an hour, I’ll sort this out,” he offers.
My eyes shoot back up to him, ready to tell him to mind his own business. He’s looking down at me with a disapproving expression, as if this situation is detrimental to both of us. For him. Is that all he cares about? Dropping what I’m doing, I stand up in a rush, a fresh surge of anger washing over me. “Not anymore,” I storm past him.
He gets to me before I can escape to the bathroom, cutting me off. “Hey, Paisley, what the hell is going on? Last I heard you were meeting him for lunch today, then you came back here all huffy, now this with Noah. What am I missing?”
With a shaky arm, I hold up my wrist, showing him the bruises my father left at lunch. But that’s not what hurts me the most, it’s the pain that’s been lodged in my chest since our altercation, that makes my chest feel like it might collapse. Today was the last straw for me after years of neglect and violence. “My father isn’t a very nice man. He deserves whatever he gets,” I whisper, trying not to let my emotions get the better of me in front of Beckett.
“Oh shit, Paisley.” He pulls me into him in a hug, shocking the shit out of me and causing tears to leak from my eyes at his kind gesture. I didn’t think Beckett had it in him to care about someone else. But this hug feels very genuine.
“I’m okay,” I try to tell him, not wanting him to make a fuss over me.
“No, you’re not. I knew something was up when you arrived today.” His eyes meet mine in a silent understanding. “Parker. He used to turn up to football games covered in bruises. This has been going on for years, hasn’t it?”
I nod sadly.
He sucks in a labored breath, his usual calm demeanor shifting. But it’s when he starts to pace, hands shoved into his suit pockets, I feel like panicking. “Shit. This is bad,” he mutters under his breath.
I watch him, confusion swirling through me. How does this affect him? Then I remember my father’s threat from today. “Bad for your campaign. Is that all you care about?” I gasp.
He looks back at me, his eyes worried. “No. And yes. This is bad because he’s just pledged a huge donation to our campaign, and we now look like we’re associated with him. I won’t have some asshole who beats his children associated with me.” He looks me over, his features softening. “Are you alright? Do you need a cold pack for the bruising? I’m so sorry, Paisley, this isn’t okay. If I knew...” His voice cracks over the last part.
My body crumbles to the linoleum floor below, feeling too tired from everything that’s happened today to stand in the hallway to the bathroom. This isn’t Beckett’s fault, even if I want someone to blame. He sits down beside me, taking my hand in his, and the two of us sit in silence for quite some time, both trapped in our own thoughts. It’s a strange gesture from a man I don’t understand at all. He’s so manufactured most of the time, I was starting to think there wasn’t a heart in there at all. But this is a softer side to him I really appreciate tonight. “If the town could see you now.” I smile at him softly.
“Sitting in the dingy hallway outside of the bathrooms?” He chuckles lightheartedly.
“Being so kind. This is the person you need to show them more of. You’re more than just ambition and this businesslike robot who has all the right answers. Show them you’re someone they can relate to.”
He drops his head, sadness washing over him. “I’ve never told anyone this, and I will deny it if you ever tell a soul, but I know what it’s like to live with a father who uses his fists instead of his words.”
Goosebumps rise over my skin and a sickening feeling settles in my stomach. I would never want anyone to have experienced the violence I’ve witnessed. I take a quick look at him; he’s trying to reveal a part of himself to me. My heart aches for him. Parker bore the brunt of our father’s anger. I got off lightly really, I know that. “I’m so sorry, Beckett.” I squeeze his hand tightly, knowing this would be tough for him to admit. He’s not a man who shows his weaknesses.
“My father had extremely high expectations of both me and Hamilton. He ruled our home like he did his businesses, with an iron fist. Why do you think we both got the hell out of there as soon as we could? Hamilton was relying on that football scholarship, but the accident destroyed his chances of that. So, we had to come up with another way to get out. That’s when we both moved to New York to study media and business and didn’t come back until last year.”
Hamilton’s anger toward the Alexanders makes even more sense now. He needed that scholarship as an escape from his overbearing father. “I know what that’s like, nothing is ever good enough for them. You know today was the first time he ever told me that he was proud of me. He was proud of me because I sided with you and not Noah. He said I was finally doing something worthwhile with my life.”
Beckett shakes his head, and I see the disappointment that fills him for me. “You don’t need his approval. Look at you, you’re about to live your dream of owning your own business. That’s something to be really proud of.”
“I know.” I nod, agreeing.
“And look at us, we’re going to win this campaign because you’ve worked out how to deal with me. Even my own mother couldn’t do that.” He offers a half smile.
One that makes me laugh. “That has been a challenge.” He stands, holding his hands for me, helping me up with him. “Can I ask you something?” I say more seriously.
He shrugs, waiting for my question.
“When I was having lunch with him today, it felt like he was threatening me. He kept saying you winning was more important than he could even tell me, but you had to win. Like he had a lot riding on it. What was that?”
He looks me over, thinking on it. “Maybe it’s the significant amount of money he just invested in me?”
“Why did he do that?” I search Beckett’s face for answers. I just don’t get it but maybe this is something he’s done before.
“It seems safe to assume that he doesn’t have a liking for Noah. So, he wants me in,” Beckett says like it’s simple.
I understand what he’s saying. There’s some history with Noah I don’t understand, but I feel like there is more to it as well. He looked agitated, almost desperate for me to tell him that I would help make sure Beckett was the winner. Obviously, that’s just insane, I can’t make that happen. It’s for the town to decide. “Come on, Beckett, I know you think this is odd as well. Something fishy is going on here. And I want to know what it is.”
He thinks on it for a second. And I know he agrees with me. “Let me have a look into it, see if Hamilton can dig up anything useful.”
“Thank you.”
“And Paisley, if you ever need to talk about anything, I’m here for you, okay? I know you’re feeling distanced from your social group because they’re all camp Noah.”
I nod, wondering why he’s being so nice to me. He’s the last person I expected to find friendship in. But we’re so similar in a lot of ways, I guess it makes sense. I wonder what Noah would make of it. Then just as quickly, I scrap that thought. It shouldn’t matter what Noah thinks.