Chapter 37
CHAPTER 37
FORD
“He wants to what ?”
Vaughn regards me with serious eyes and a hardened jaw as he steps closer, repeating himself. “He wants to make a deal. The name of his co-conspirator in exchange for a plea deal.”
I grind my teeth, intensely disliking the feeling of being powerless here as I question, “And what are they gonna do?”
My old friend shrugs, watching me closely. “He claims he’ll only talk to you. That’s the real reason you’re here today.”
“ Fuck !”
I scrub my hands down my face before I pin Vaughn with a look. “Let’s get it over with.”
He leads me farther inside the detention center that’s holding Beck, and through a long line of corridors until we come to several men standing together. Vaughn greets them one by one, clearly having done his homework.
At least one of us is on the ball lately.
“There are cameras in each corner and one directly above the table. We’ll be watching at all times.”
A slender blonde man gestures to follow him, but I stop, questioning, “What does he get in exchange?”
“Instead of being sent to maximum security out of state, he wants to remain local.” The officer shrugs. It’s something about being near his sick mother.”
Something inside of me softens despite myself, and I follow after, ducking into a holding cell to find Beck waiting. His usually cocky, downright rude demeanor is gone, replaced by wide eyes and genuine fear.
“Is it a deal?”
The officer nods at Beck’s barely audible question. “The paperwork is filed with the judge. You’ll be placed close by.”
As he leaves, I slide into the seat opposite and force my shoulders to relax, projecting a picture of nonchalance when, in reality, I’m anything but .
“Let’s just cut to the chase, Beck. I’m bone tired of this bullshit, and I’m not entirely sure you were working with anyone?—”
“It was Reese Seering…or as you know her these days, Reese Hart.”
A chill fills my bones as I search my mind for a single hint of anything untoward in any of my interactions with Emerson’s stepmother. In any of the reports I’ve run, and I come up with a blank.
“That woman is squeaky clean?—”
“I’m sure you were obsessed with your father’s trial like the rest of the nation…” he trails off, and I clench my jaw even as heat rises on my cheeks. “So, how come Emerson’s mom, Norah, was never formally named in the victim impact statement?”
Something that’s run through my head more times than I can count since Easton’s revelation, but I’ve been hesitant to poke that motherfucking hornets’ nest amid everything that’s been going on.
“You ever wonder who told Easton that Jasper was behind Norah Hart’s death? How it conveniently happened when you and Emerson were beginning to make a life together, and he just so happened to find you at the Hart brownstone that day…Didn’t you ever wonder why he showed such animosity to you when, from all accounts, you were once such good friends?”
My mouth opens and closes like a fish out of water as I shake my head. “I mean, his confrontation was out of character, sure…”
I furrow my brow, my thoughts racing a mile a minute. “What in the hell would Reese gain from this? From making Emerson into this global superstar? You’re searching for power. For money. She has no need for either. So how do you expect me to?—”
“How about atonement then, Mr. Holloway? Is that a good enough reason for you?”
EMERSON
I make my way back to the table, finding Hayley and Reese chatting animatedly, and despite the anxiety roiling in my gut, I sit opposite them, forcing a smile onto my cheeks.
As they chat about a new Berkin bag that Reese has ordered, I smile and nod at the appropriate times, but I just can’t seem to harness the ability to join in. My mind is filled with a million theories, and none of them are altogether palatable.
Blessedly, the food arrives just then, and I dig into my quiche that suddenly tastes like cardboard. I can’t seem to get a handle on my racing thoughts, but as I raise my eyes to find Reese’s studying me, one thing is certain.
She’s not to be trusted.
At that thought, my eyes rove around the familiar restaurant, doubting my ability to trust anyone anymore, and I’m suddenly feeling more than a little claustrophobic.
“I’m not actually feeling very well. Umm... I think I need to call it a day.”
I begin to push my chair to stand, but Reese reaches out a hand, resting it lightly but firmly upon mine. “I hear congratulations are in order, sweetie.” At my frown, she smiles brightly. “You’ve quit the business. Though I’m sure your mother would be saddened by the thought?—”
I yank my hand away, holding it to my chest with hurt slashed across my features.
“Mom!” Hayley’s indignant cry fills the entire restaurant, and nearby diners glance in our direction, hopeful of witnessing some juicy tidbit of gossip firsthand.
“I think you’ll find that my mother would have placed my happiness above all else, Reese.” Anger rises within me, and I narrow my eyes as I hiss through clenched teeth. “Besides, you never even knew my mother. How could you know what she’d have wanted for me?”
Reese doesn’t rise to the bait. Instead, she shakes her head, her eyes glazing over as she speaks softly. “I remember moving into the brownstone after marrying your father. Norah was everywhere. And I never tried to take her place. I’ve not moved a single photo. I’ve not redecorated anything so as to keep her memory alive.”
Her voice drops to a whisper as tears fill her eyes. “Your career was the ultimate homage to a woman taken from this world far too soon.”
I meet Hayley’s eyes across the table, a similar horror in hers as I’m sure is currently residing in my own. Yet before either of us can utter another word, there’s a furor at the front of the restaurant, and we all shift in our seats.
Several men, Ford among them, stride past the hostess podium, oblivious to a sputtering Inga, and make a beeline for our table. A part of me is unsurprised as they march right past me and stand at Reese’s chair, but another part of me—my ingrained desire to see the best in people—prays that this is all just a big mistake.
Tears fill her eyes as she rises to stand, placing her hands at the small of her back without being asked. “I’m so sorry, Emerson. You’ll never know how sorry I am.”
My chest tightens agonizingly when she shifts around to Hayley, a tear streaking down her face as she murmurs, “I love you, my beautiful girl.”
Without a word, one of the men, seemingly a plain-clothes police officer, begins to handcuff her. “Reese Hart, you’re under arrest for the vehicular manslaughter of Norah Hart. You have the right to remain silent. Anything you say can and will be used against you…”
His voice drones on as the entire world feels like it’s moving in slow motion. My head is foggy, and I blink painfully slowly, watching the scene unfold before me as though from a distance.
There’s a stillness in Fern that’s almost otherworldly as servers stand watching and patrons stare with open mouths.
Reese’s head is lowered, her eyes fixed on the restaurant floor, and her hands cuffed at the base of her spine as Hayley’s low-keening sobs fill the space. A dull, steady throb radiates from my temples as a flash of pain slices through my chest, knocking the air from my lungs.
As I inhale almost desperately, I can feel Ford walking around the table, standing at the back of my chair to place his palm atop my shoulder while the officers begin to remove Reese from Fern. She takes several jolted steps, then stops suddenly, twisting about to find my eyes.
“It was a dreadful accident. I—I was driving home from a double shift. I was tired… I didn’t see her…” she trails off on a desperate sob that sends a fresh wave of pain right through me. “I didn’t see her.”
As I brush curly strands back from my sister’s tear-stained cheeks, a new barrage of tears rises in my own throat, but I swallow them down, straining to hear Ford’s low exchange with Vaughn in the galley kitchen, to no avail.
When they step into the living room, I spear Ford with what I know are bloodshot eyes and whisper so as not to wake my sister. “Whatever he’s told you, I deserve to know, too.”
Ford frowns as he passes me a mug of hot, sweet tea, which I accept with a nod. Then Vaughn sits on the coffee table opposite me, facing me with a no-nonsense attitude that I am beyond grateful for.
“Seems that Reese found you and your father through the obituaries. She has told police that she attended the burial ceremony and followed you back to your brownstone. Over several months, she was able to pin down your schedule and discovered you were due to attend The Persephone Stage School. Once she did, she managed to get a place for Hayley, too, and, well…I think you can garner the rest.”
A single tear streaks one cheek as I fill in the blanks.
“She manipulated her way into my life. My home. My mother’s home.” I inhale a sob that almost makes me choke as I whisper, “My mother’s bed ….”
I lift wild eyes, pinning Ford in place.
“Has anyone spoken to my dad yet? Where is he?—”
“He’s on a flight back to the US from Brussels. I’ll have a car bring him to you. Don’t worry about that, baby.”
My heart feels battered inside my chest as I think back on all the things Reese has done for me over the years. And how every single one of them was a manipulation to assuage the guilt she felt over my mother’s death. How her actions have colored every step I’ve taken since the day my mother died. How the love and attention she showered on me was a lie.
“Was any of it real?”
I don’t realize I’ve spoken until Ford grips the mug from my fingers and places it on the coffee table before crouching before me. “You can’t change what’s happened, Tink. You can only adjust the way you see it.”
My eyes narrow as I shake my head, fresh tears spilling down my face and landing on Hayley’s mussed hair. “I don’t know how I can see it any way other than how it is. She killed my mother and stole her life. She helped Beck to tamper with my career. To have me poisoned. Potentially kidnapped ?—”
“She brought Hayley into your life.”
Those six words make me frown, and I drop my gaze from him, down to the sleeping form of my sister. My best friend. My rock through good times and bad.
“And, like you once told me, the universe has a plan. For all of us, even Reese. You’ve trusted her this far when others would have thrown in the towel.”
He rises slightly to press a kiss to my forehead, and I can feel the simple act lessening the tension in my shoulders as he whispers, “Focus on that, and I’ll take care of the rest, Tink.”
Low voices, as though from a distance, rouse me from my half-sleep. My eyes open slowly, and the apartment around me comes into focus.
The first thing I register is that Hayley is still fast asleep with her head in my lap, followed by the sound of Ford’s voice in the hallway leading to the elevator.
“They’re sleeping in here.”
“Wait.” My heart jumps at hearing my father’s deep voice, but I sit quietly when both men halt just out of my line of sight.
“Is everything alright, Mr. Hart?”
“Please, Ford. Call me Tristan.”
Ford huffs a low laugh, muttering something about old habits before rewording his question. “Are you okay, Tristan?”
Silence follows for a beat until my father answers, his voice now fraught with concern.
And something else. Something like…guilt?
“What do I say to them? I—I don’t know what to… I can’t wrap my head around…”
He trails off, his weary sigh making my heart clench painfully. “I never stopped loving Norah. After the…accident, I made Emerson my whole world, but… fuck ?—”
Stopping suddenly, he clears his throat before blowing out a breath.
“I tried my best. I truly, truly did, but she needed her mother. And when the opportunity presented itself, I thought Reese was the answer. Our marriage was almost transactional, and that was enough for me. It was enough because I was able to continue to carry Norah in my heart, and Reese never questioned it. Not once. And maybe I should have…questioned it, I mean. But…but Christ , I never saw this coming. I trusted her with the most valuable part of my life, and in doing so, I invited my wife’s killer into our home. It makes me so fucking angry ?—”
There’s a loud bang, and Hayley jerks into awareness as I hear my father hiss in pain. Ford murmurs quietly, “Let me get some ice for that hand, Tristan. I—I understand your frustration. The pain. The deception and the conflict, but punching walls, while cathartic in the moment, is nothing but a guaranteed knuckle cruncher.”
Both men step into view as they quickly cross the space leading into the kitchen, and as Hayley lifts her head from my lap, I don’t make her any the wiser about my father’s presence. Instead, I brush her curly hair back from her face and greet her with a soft smile.
“Feeling better?”
She nods slowly before she stretches with a yawn, regarding me with sad eyes. “It still doesn’t feel real, does it?”
“I think it’s going to take a long time before it does, Hayles.” Leaning closer, I pull my sister into my arms, holding her tight against me as mixed emotions rise in my chest. Pain over Reese’s betrayal wars with gratitude toward her for giving me the most beautiful bond with her daughter.
My voice is rough when I murmur, “We have each other, though. We’re not alone in this.”
Her arms hold me tighter for a beat until she stiffens in my embrace. “ Tristan .”
My father’s name escapes her lips on a shocked exhale, and I can feel her emotions rising to the top once more as I pull her to stand. We turn to face him together, and I slide my hand into hers, squeezing lightly in solidarity.
His black eyebrows are furrowed while his grey eyes are filled with sorrow, and as I recall his conversation with Ford from moments before, my heart floods with compassion. When he opens his arms to both of us, we rush forward side by side. He folds his arms around us, and our trio hugs each other close for a long beat.
The simple act of being with the two other people most affected by Reese’s deceit buoys me, lending me strength, and I inherently know that everything will be okay.
There’s a whole lot of healing to do and a mountain of issues to overcome, but I truly believe that we can get through this and come out stronger on the other side.
Because history and destiny are inexplicably intertwined, and we can’t wait for the latter without living through the former.
Then, as I exhale slowly, I feel Ford standing closer at my back, validating the veracity of my thoughts, because had we not survived our history, we’d never have made it to the cusp of our destiny.
And my family will survive this too. I’ll make sure of it.