Chapter 53 #3
Jay throws his head back in laughter, raising his mug of tea. “Brilliant!”
“So I can pick Finn as my pawn and claim Effy’s gallery?” Joan asks, a sly grin tugging at her lips.
“That’s right,” Eli says. “Or you could go for Tom’s sex shop, Luca’s football career, Cheryl’s coffeeshops—or your nightclub. You can even collect instruments and start a band.”
“And Tom.” Eli turns to him now. “If the dice sends you to rehab, you’ll have to sit out three turns!”
Everyone bursts into laughter, including Tom, who shakes his head but smiles.
“Don’t worry,” I tell him, my words meant only for his ears. “I’ll keep you occupied for three turns. Maybe even longer.”
Tom’s mouth curves into a smirk, a playful spark appearing in his eyes.
“How about I end the game, and they can all fuck off with their capitalism?”
Our hands intertwine. “Let’s run from capitalism.”
Jay steps in front of the fireplace.
Two claps and his loyal audience quiets on command.
“That is one hell of a great present, Eli. Thank you!”
The room applauds again, with Eli offering a small bow.
Jay picks up the board game and makes a slow circle, holding it out so everyone can see.
“This amazing board game represents everything our family stands for. As our credo goes: loyalty and…”
He stops in front of Tom.
“Uh…honesty,” Tom says.
Out of the corner of my eye, I see Joan reach for Effy’s hand. For a moment I don’t see them as they are now.
I see two little girls. The older one holding on to the younger because she’s the braver one. It breaks my heart.
I see myself.
Jay returns to the fireplace.
“Honesty. It’s the bare minimum we can ask of each other, wouldn’t you agree?”
Everyone murmurs in agreement, heads nodding.
“It’s the bare minimum we can expect in return for our hospitality, don’t you think?”
Another round of silent nods.
I swallow hard, my throat dry. This isn’t about their culty family values. This is about me. My chest tightens as I realize where this is going. He’s taking his revenge for what happened this morning. For standing up to him, beating him at his stupid clay target game.
I never thought the McKenna’s could be this quiet. I can hear the crack of the fire, the sound of my own pulse.
Then Jay speaks.
“So why is it that the outsider hasn’t been honest with us?”
All heads turn to me.
My stomach drops. I swear, I’ve never felt this exposed, this small.
“JAY, THAT’S ENOUGH!” Tom grabs my hand. Without a second thought, he’s leading me out of the living area.
“Tom!” Jay’s tone carries a possessive authority. It’s enough to make Tom stop, even though we’re already halfway to the front door. He turns back to face his brother.
Jay smiles. “I don’t think Yosh’s been honest with you.”
My heart slams uncontrollably against my ribs. He knows. Jay knows. And in seconds, Tom will know too. I’m about to throw up.
“The NDA you signed yesterday is invalid, but you already knew that when you signed it, didn’t you?”
A ripple of gasps moves through the room. I keep my eyes locked on the floor, unable to meet Jay’s triumphant stare, the family’s judgment, or worst of all, Tom’s eyes.
“It is valid,” I mumble.
“What was that? Speak up! We can’t hear you.” Jay’s pushing me. He’s pushing me into a corner with nowhere to go.
I fold my arms tighter, unsure whether to explain myself or run, cut my way out at the south fence like Calvin instructed
“Nothing to say, Joshua?”
My name.
Tom’s eyes are burning into the side of my face. I don’t need to look to know he’s staring at me in shock. But I do look at Effy, and disappointment is written in her eyes.
Jay keeps going in a smooth, mean tone. “I ran a full background check on you. My first thought? Gold digger. But no, that seems to be the least of your motives for clinging to my brother, right?”
He’s twisting the knife in my gut, slower and slower with every passing second. Then he rips it out of my body.
“Everyone, meet Joshua Fennbrae, son of none other than the tech billionaire Alistair Fennbrae!”
The silence that follows stretches like an eternity. No one makes a sound until Eli huffs to break the tension.
“I have no idea who that billionaire sir might be, but that name sounds very Scottish to me.”
Fuck.
Joan steps forward. “I once dated this guy—Callum Fennbrae—and I swear, their tartan was the most beautiful I’ve ever seen. It would’ve matched my dream wedding dress perfectly.”
“We don’t have a tartan.”
“Great-grandad is Irish. You never paid attention to Jay’s history lessons, did you?”
“Neither did you, Irish do have tartans.”
“It sounds like our last name, but like…more real. More original, you get what I mean?”
“So, you’re basically saying that the outsider is actually the most Scottish person in this room?”
“It’s not like our last name, you idiot.”
“Could he be from the Highlands?”
“I think he’s from the Moorlands.”
“Makes sense. Moorlanders are strange people.”
My pulse hammers behind my eyes. I press both hands to my temples, hard, to make the pressure disappear. It doesn’t. I can’t breathe. I can’t fucking think. All these voices clashing inside my head.
Tom.
Where’s Tom?
His face is drained of color, the crackling fireplace reflecting in his eyes.
I’d give everything I have just to crawl inside his head right now. To see what’s running through his mind so I can explain, reassure him so he wouldn’t feel lost, or betrayed, or whatever storm is raging through him right now.
My Sapphire. Please look at me.
Someone bumps my shoulder. I turn and see Finn storming at Jay.
“Jay, you’re a fucking bully!”
Finn turns around, pointing a finger at everyone.
“Fuck you, fuck you, and fuck you. You’re all fucking cowards for letting this happen!”
Finn’s anger has been building for a long time. And there’s no greater anger than the kind born from heartbreak.
Then it all goes to hell in seconds.
Finn swings for Jay, Sergei moves fast, catching his arm, twisting until Finn screams.
Cheryl explodes. “Don’t you fucking dare touch my son! You’re fucking fired!”
“That’s not your call, Cheryl!”
Eli tries to break it up but takes an elbow to the ribs, stumbling into the liquor cabinet. Glass and bottles crash everywhere.
“DAD, I HATE YOU!” Joan throws herself on Jay’s back.
Luca tries to get her off, but Janice steps in, slapping Joan with a flat palm in the face.
“Ungrateful brat,” she hisses.
Calvin loses it and spits out a string of insults at Janice as he lifts Joan away from her stepmother.
Joan thrashes in Calvin’s arms, screaming and clawing around.
Cheryl comes for Janice; Mary’s screaming too.
Effy, where is Effy?
I watch her disappear into the hallway like a ghost that was never here.
That’s when I realize I can’t save her from this place. She is this place and she doesn’t want to be saved.
I exchange looks with Calvin. One nod, still holding Joan in his arms. That nod says, you take him, I protect her.
“Avalon,” he shouts at me.
In the chaos, I reach for Tom’s hand. We push through the people fighting. We need to get the hell out of here.
The door slams shut behind us, leaving an echo that feels like a point of no return.
It snaps Tom out of his trance, and suddenly, he’s the one dragging me along by the wrist.
Snow crunches under his boots as he storms ahead, leaving me scrambling to keep up.
“Tom, calm down! Please, you’re hurting me.”
His face burns crimson, fingernails biting into my skin.
This isn’t him. It’s the same switch that flipped at SeaBreeze, and I know from that night nothing I say will reach him until the anger burns itself out.
“Sapphire, please.” My voice breaks. “I’m sorry, baby. Please don’t do this. Just stop for a second. Let me explain.”
Tears sting my eyes and I hate that I’m crying.
The air is so cold it burns, yet my face feels hot from the rivers of tears streaming down my cheeks.
I feel him slipping.
No, I can feel us slipping. And I don’t know what I need to do to keep us together. So for now I don’t mind his hand on my wrist, even if it hurts. At least he’s holding me, because not holding me would hurt so much more.
We reach the car and split. I get in without a word. My wrist is throbbing, but right now, the last thing I want is to set him off.
We disappear into the forest, tires screeching as we race for the gate.
It opens automatically this time.
The glowing meadows in the distance are proof the real world still exists. The sun breaks through the heavy gray clouds. I lift my hand to the sky, shading my eyes from the light. Its warmth touches my damp cheeks, drying my tears as we leave Heatherfell behind.
I want to believe I’m not as alone as I feel in this moment. That the sun breaking through the clouds is Paul’s way of comforting me, wiping away my tears and whispering it’ll be alright.
God. I hate myself.
Whenever things go to hell, my thoughts go straight to Paul. Some part of me has never stopped wanting him.
This isn’t fair to Tom. I’ve failed us in every possible way. I don’t deserve him, not when I’m crying over someone else.
The only sound is the engine.
We drive for at least half an hour before the highway appears. Tom still hasn’t spoken. His eyes stay fixed on the road, hands tight around the wheel. He drives fast, but never over the limit.
I don’t know where we’re going, but the way his fingers are clamping the wheel makes one thing clear:
Pineapple fucking cookie.