CHAPTER SIXTEEN
JORDAN
I loved consecutive days off. The entire world stretched before me, unencumbered with annoyances like shift times and handsy clients. This was my second day off in a row, which made me feel like I wasn’t a desperate, cash-strapped stripper, struggling to find a place to live that wouldn’t drain her bank account within two months. No, I was a put-together professional with a two-day weekend, goddammit.
At least, that’s what I wanted to feel like on this momentous Tuesday.
Seven and I crossed paths early in the morning—after his workout and before mine—and he informed me that he had plans today. Before I could ask if they’d require me to scout out his location and hunt him down, he said, “Whatever you have planned for the day is fine. I’ll call Chico to come over and be on call.”
I sighed, rubbing my face. Somewhere between the family dinner and this morning, I realized how long it had been since I’d been alone. That was one of the perks of living by myself—being alone. At least for an introvert like me. “Can I just get some personal time? Or is that forbidden per the bodyguard laws?”
He dropped his chin, his gaze narrowing. “You promise you’ll stay here?”
“Of course. What else am I going to do but swing around the pole and cook elaborate lunches?”
“You could always go hunt Pokémon,” he said.
“Sure, but I don’t feel like it today.” I crossed my arms. Ranger sauntered into the room and sat equidistant between us, watching with mild interest.
Seven didn’t seem convinced. “Are you sure?”
“Yes. I’ll be good. Promise.”
He watched me for a moment longer before issuing me a curt nod. “Okay. But if you change your mind, let me know and I’ll send Chico over.”
“Thanks, Daddy Warbucks.”
He shook his head as he walked toward his bedroom. “That’s not a good one.”
“I didn’t realize you were scoring and judging my submissions.” His bedroom door shut a moment later, and I drew a deep breath, dropping down to stroke Ranger’s fur. Not only did I have an unexpected day off…I would have most of it to myself. And Ranger, of course.
This felt like luxury.
I was on the pole when Seven headed out for the day looking casual in dark jeans and a T-shirt, his laptop bag slung across his chest. My heart squeezed as I watched him go. I wanted to know what he was doing. What was he working on? Did he need any input? Was this more about the business that involved Chico?
I had so many questions, and I wanted to have none of them. Just like I wanted Seven, but wanted to not want him. The longer I practiced on the pole, the deeper my thoughts dove into the abyss. I was sick of this tangle my life had become. Nothing resembled anything I’d selected for myself. This wasn’t my apartment. Not my furniture. Not my daily commute. Not my fucking neighborhood.
And Seven…definitely not my roommate. Or my boyfriend. Yet here we were.
I grunted as my positions became fiercer, my body whipping around the pole like I was exorcising the confusion. All this surveillance was getting old, too. I was sick of being tailed, treated like I couldn’t go anywhere on my own. Sick of the confusion about what my next step should be, and more than sick of my attraction to Seven.
How was any of this right? How many more weeks or months or years would some armed bodyguard need to follow me before I could come home from work on my own?
I finished my practice in a blaze of aggression, my face flaming hot and my muscles aching by the time I flipped to the ground. My chest heaved for a few moments as I stared past the pole and out the window, unable to focus on anything but how constricted I felt.
My entire life right now felt like a swaddle—wrapped too tight, and no way to find the seam to unravel the whole thing.
I needed to get out of here.
Sure, saving on rent was nice. Living with a Greek god had its perks. Hell, I’d gotten a free pole out of the deal. But I couldn’t keep pretending that not being in control of my own life was palatable. Who was I kidding? This entire arrangement had been doomed to fail, and I’d been too distracted by a pair of biceps holding me in the scary times.
I needed to remember what it felt like to be on my own.
Still struggling to catch my breath, I bolted for my bedroom. I’d pack a bag, take only the essentials, and see where I ended up. I could call Roxie if I needed a place to crash. Maybe I’d end up back here. I really had no idea. I just needed to prove to myself that I could hack it on my own again. Like I had from the beginning. Like I’d surely have to do again someday.
Once my bag was packed with a few nights’ worth of regular clothes, work gear, and my stripped-down skincare routine, I popped on a T-shirt and leggings, slid on my leather jacket, and got the fuck out of there.
I moved stealthily at first, like Seven might be lurking in the stairwell, ready to jump out and call me a brat as if he could intuit my naughty moves. When he was nowhere to be found and I’d successfully strolled out onto Reade Street by myself, I knew I’d made it.
Free at last.
I spun like a top at first. Without Seven at my side, the freedom fizzed inside me, heady and disorienting. It might have been my first time in the city all over again, and I was a tourist without a map. I drew deep breaths of the crisp autumn air, unsure where to begin. My stomach rumbled within a couple of blocks, giving me my answer. Lunch first.
I picked up my pace, eager to get my butt to Chinatown and into the dining room of my favorite rice noodle joint. I hadn’t been there since moving away, so this return to familiar territory seemed like a fitting celebration of freedom.
Hitting the pavement in Chinatown felt like coming home. I filled my lungs with the wafting scents of frying pork from a nearby restaurant mingling with street grit and exhaust. While I loved fresh air and forests, something about the big city kicked my senses awake. I wove my way through the heavy flow of pedestrians, and when I saw the neon sign of Yun Shin, a pang of sadness hit me in the solar plexus.
Seven would have liked to come along too.
But today wasn’t about him. I was finally on my own, and I needed to remember that. I pushed inside the crowded restaurant, quickly snagging a small table in the corner. I didn’t even need to look at the menu. I scanned the restaurant after I ordered, my mind drifting as I observed the other customers. Everything was hushed in here, moodily lit, serious and delicious. Just as I was debating whether or not I wanted to swing by my old apartment, my bowl of beef slices with rice noodles showed up.
There was no time for thinking then. Only eating. I inhaled my food in record time, only pausing to debate taking a picture to send to Seven. Not to tease him—just to let him know he needed to come here with me next time.
Could you stop thinking about Seven for once?
Once my belly was full and my spirits lifted, I rejoined the busy weekday outside, heading for my old favorite: Columbus Park. There was a chance Dustin would be there, but I was confident I could outrun him if he tried anything even remotely creepy. Still, I entered the calm greenspace with some hesitation, on the lookout for red hair and his worn-out khaki coat. I hated how nervous the idea made me—did this mean I couldn’t survive without Seven now?
I’d confronted far scarier situations without batting an eye. I knew how to be aware, how to be ready. Seven didn’t get to take that away from me.
I settled onto a park bench, sliding my duffel bag off my shoulder. I needed to sit with my thoughts. Everything inside me grew heavy with indecision and misdirection. And the worst part was that, if I was being completely honest with myself, I did want Seven at my side. As more than just my bodyguard.
But the thought terrified me. Even if he somehow stopped being my guard, even if there was some way to make this connection work without living together or him being around constantly, was I ready for something serious? With someone like Seven?
I watched the parkgoers as they drifted by, listening for an answer inside of me.
I was so used to hacking it on my own. But maybe I was ready for a new adventure. A new chapter. A new…approach.
A couple went up to the statue of Dr. Sun Yat-sen and sat at the base while they each ate their own container of sushi. Occasionally, the girl would offer a bite to her boyfriend, which he’d gratefully take. And then, a few bites later, he’d offer one to her.
Even that brought tears to my eyes. If I didn’t know better, I’d think I was pregnant. But pregnancy was off the table, unless I was sorely mistaken about the mechanics of insemination. No, ever since my brothers had shown up in Black Brewtiful, I was more sensitive and emotional than I’d ever been in my entire life.
You’re just so tired of needing to be strong.
The thought resonated through me, prompting actual tears this time. I bent over my duffel bag, rummaging around as though I was searching for something. But really, I was just trying to hide my tears and not break down entirely in public. I was tired of always being on the defensive. Needing to look out for myself because nobody gave a god damn about me. I was tired of feeling like it was me against the world.
The last few weeks of being able to relax and stand down… I buried my face in my hands, suddenly overwhelmed by the revelation. This time had been a gift. One that my brothers gave me without realizing they were doing it.
My heart swelled, a warm mixture of both pain and tenderness. I didn’t know up from down anymore. I missed Seven four hours after I’d last seen him; I was halfway crying from tender feelings about my brothers. This wasn’t the Jordan I knew. What was I going to do next, start spilling all my life’s secrets to Roxie and the other girls at work?
I drew a deep breath, checking my phone. No word from Seven yet, which meant he likely didn’t know I’d broken my promise to him. I stared at the bright screen, fingers swiping across the apps before I had a chance to think better of it.
Suddenly I had a text to Damian open.
JORDAN: Are you guys home?
He wrote back immediately. Like he’d been waiting.
DAMIAN: I can be if you need me to be. What’s up sis?
My chin trembled and I contemplated what to say. I didn’t even know what I needed right now. Nothing felt quite right, but somehow, finding my brothers made the most sense.
JORDAN: Just wondering if I could swing by and we could talk.
DAMIAN: Of course. I’ll be there in about ten minutes, is that quick enough? Are you near, or do you want me to send a car?
I was about to wave off his offer as usual. I don’t need help from you, or anyone. I can get there myself. But something stopped me. A ride would be nice. A little softness, a little comfort…would be nice.
JORDAN: I’d love a ride. Thanks.
I sent him the address of the park. When I looked around, things felt a little calmer inside. I smiled at the group of older ladies practicing tai chi nearby. I even smiled at passers-by, which I knew was an implicit no-no in New York City, but I had the excuse of being a deranged out-of-towner who occasionally smiled at people.
When the sleek black sedan pulled to a stop near one of the main entrances of Columbus Park about ten minutes later, its flashers blinking, I knew it had to be the Fairchild vehicle. As I approached, the passenger window slid down and Legs grinned out at me.
“Your chariot awaits, Ms. Haynes.”
“Legs!” I climbed into the front seat. His brows lifted.
“You comin’ up front with me today?”
“Of course. Why wouldn’t I?” I buckled in as he eased away from the park. “You’re not in the SUV today.”
“The ladies are using it, off with Harry somewhere.” He side-eyed me, smiling to himself. “We’re goin’ to the Fairchilds, right?”
I nodded, surprised to find something like excitement prickling to life. My brothers were part of a special, elite world, and I knew the access code. This was the type of VIP feeling I’d longed for as a child.
“Yeah. I just wanna hang out with my brothers.”
The words hung awkwardly in the air for me, though I’m sure Legs didn’t notice. Kaylee didn’t strike me dead from the great beyond for saying them either.
It’s time for you to do what feels right. And reconnecting with your brothers is what’s right.
I didn’t doubt it anymore. And part of me suspected that Kaylee wasn’t criticizing my choices from the Great Beyond. Hell, she was probably cheering this on. The Kaylee that would have been mad was the drug-addicted, traumatized teenager who’d led me to believe our brothers somehow chose to leave us behind. And while I still had questions I needed answered, there was no way Kaylee’s version could be completely correct.
Legs and I chatted while he drove through slow midday traffic. I tinkered with the radio, until landing on Queen’s “Bohemian Rhapsody,” which we both sang quietly to ourselves until it got to the end, which we belted out together. By the time we’d traveled a mile in about fifteen minutes, Legs felt like my best friend.
When he pulled up to the skyscraper known as my brothers’ building, he said, “I’ll be seeing you around, right?”
I shrugged. “Probably. I might be needing more rides soon.”
“Good.” He squeezed the wheel, smiling out ahead. “I’ll be seein’ ya, Jordy.”
I’d gone from Ms. Haynes to Jordy in the distance of two neighborhoods. Somehow, it didn’t bother me. I waved at Legs before entering the sleek, pleasantly warm lobby, heading to the center set of elevators as Damian instructed me via text. Since I wasn’t with Seven, I didn’t have his secret penthouse elevator key that went straight to the side entrance. Instead, I rode up a mirrored elevator by myself, staring at my slightly unrecognizable reflection. A messy ponytail, my most basic leggings and black tee, and my leather jacket, not an ounce of makeup or lip gloss. I nearly jumped when the doors slid open and my reflection split in two.
A gleaming, tiled hallway led to wooden double doors. Before I’d taken two steps, the doors opened, and my brother Damian filled the doorway.
“Hey, little sis.” His warm smile softened whatever hard edges I had left.
I walked up to him, leaning against him in an awkward half-hug, before breezing past. “Hey.”
“Quasi-hug status, huh?” He shut the door behind us.
“Yeah. For now.” I looked over my shoulder as he joined me in the middle of the hallway.
“Cool. I can live with that.” He gestured for me to follow him into the huge living room; low, boxy furniture sat expertly arranged and pristine, like he’d just held an interior design photoshoot moments before. Tall, skinny vases stood in clusters; sprays of exotic looking foliage bursting out of them. But the way he sank into the couch told me this furniture was here to be used, not just admired.
“Sit down,” he encouraged, probably noticing my hesitation. “What have you been up to? You tired? Need a drink?”
I sat on the armchair facing the couch, unsure where to begin. I inspected my nails for a moment, caught between wondering if Seven was mad and whether or not I should just dive into childhood trauma.
“I’ll take some water, actually. I was walking around the city a lot earlier.”
“Of course. Where’s Seven?” Damian got up, heading to a little wet bar tucked away near the huge span of windows. My gaze drifted to the light streaming through the glass, realizing it wasn’t a picture—it was actually the fucking city I was looking at, not just a perfectly hung image.
“Oh, he had some things to do,” I said. “He told me he’d be back later. I was supposed to stay at the apartment but…I left.”
Damian grabbed a glass water bottle from a small stainless steel fridge hidden behind a sliding wood panel. He handed it over to me before sinking back into the couch. The bottle had a label in a different language—only after some squinting could I make out that this was bottled French spring water. Classy. I cracked it open and took a gulp. It was more refreshing than expected.
“God this water is good,” I said, looking at the label again.
“We’re obsessed,” Damian admitted. “We buy it by the caseload from a French distributor. It’s le expensive but worth it.”
“Do you speak French?”
He laughed. “Hell no. Did I sound like I do?”
“No,” I admitted, capping the bottle and setting it on the small table beside my chair. “In fact, that was a pretty bad accent, so I was worried you were trying.”
He laughed, but my own smile faded more quickly. My thoughts had returned to Seven. “Hey, don’t get Seven in trouble.”
“For what?”
“He’s doing his job really well,” I said. “I slipped out on him today. If anything, I’m the one who should be in trouble.”
“You can go and do things by yourself if you want…” he started.
“I know. I just…I’ve been feeling really lost.” Here it was. The words I’d been struggling to bury and unearth in equal measure. My chest loosened, allowing some of the pain to pour out. “Ever since you and Axel showed up in the coffee shop, I’ve been really confused. I guess that’s the only way I can put it.”
“I’ve been feeling the same,” he admitted. “Only because I was positive you were dead.”
My brows furrowed, some of that anger I’d unleashed around Seven crawling back to the surface. “But how could you think I was dead? I don’t understand.”
“I’ve been scanning public records for mention of your name for years.” He crossed a leg over his knee, a contemplative look in his green eyes. “I set up an automatic database scan pretty early on. It was crude, but it was able to sift through most local newspapers and county registries. I started that after we moved to New York for college, because by then I’d already lost track of you.”
“My foster family moved,” I said quietly. “I think the summer after you guys graduated. The lady found a bigger house, one that would let her accept more kids.” I paused, a distant thump thump thump snagging my attention. It grew louder. Suddenly, Axel burst into the room at a run from the far end of the kitchen.
“Hey guys, I’m here.” He took a deep breath. “I sprinted across this entire penthouse, too.”
“I let him know you were coming,” Damian explained.
“Couldn’t miss a second with our little sister.” Axel pinched the top of my ear as he passed by me and settled into the armchair angled in the corner of the area rug. He wore a navy business suit, tie and all.
“Where’d you just come from?” I asked.
“A meeting with some investors.” He flashed me a smile. “They want to donate to your charity.”
“My charity?” I echoed.
“We started a non-profit in your and Kaylee’s names about six years ago,” Damian filled in. “Between our collective childhoods, the way Kaylee died, and your disappearance, it was why we chose the foster system as the focus of our charity efforts.”
“We want foster kids to suffer a little less in the hardest times of their lives,” Axel added. “And we do what we can to root out the fucking sex traffickers.”
“Though that is a black hole all its own,” Damian said.
Damian’s comment reminded me of what we’d been talking about before Axel came in. I sighed, gnawing on the inside of my cheek. “I still don’t understand how you guys thought I disappeared or was dead.”
“Well, I started doing those scans I told you about,” Damian said. “It was basic, but more of a way to keep up the long-distance search efforts once we were in New York.”
The second mention of them fucking off to New York—without me or Kaylee—sent my chest tightening again. I tried to tamp down the ancient feelings of abandonment and resentment swirling inside my gut.
“Then we found out Kaylee died,” Axel said softly. “And it was like you just fell off the face of the earth after that.”
“We were calling Kentucky CPS constantly,” Damian added. “You’d been in the care of a household where a foster teen died from a drug overdose with suspected involvement in sex trafficking. It was really hard to swallow. And with being so far away…”
“You have to remember, Jordan, we had no money back then.” Axel smiled grimly. “We were living day to day, mostly off dividends that Trace’s earliest investments paid out.”
“And lots of student loans,” Damian said.
“And working non-stop when we weren’t in classes,” Axel added. “Point is, we weren’t in a position to come home and poke around. We asked our adoptive mom to do some digging, but since she wasn’t related to you, no one would talk to her. Even with us, it was like everyone clammed up. I think the FBI got involved with your foster family—”
“They did,” I whispered.
“So nobody was giving up information.”
“I was transferred to a new home after Kaylee died,” I said, the words sticking to my throat. “It wasn’t anywhere near Louisville. It was an emergency placement.”
“They might as well have changed your name,” Damian said. “And for a while, that’s what I assumed happened. I couldn’t get a lead on you. It was like you just vanished.”
“But you never showed up again,” Axel said. “We’d check constantly. Call the CPS office. I don’t know if it was a bureaucratic fuck-up or what…but you were gone.”
“And then I ran away from that final foster home when I was sixteen.” I sniffed, grabbing the amazing French water for another sip. All this rehashing of the past had me parched. “I moved in with a boyfriend. For a while, I just drifted between jobs, working as a waitress or farmhand or whatever I could find.”
“Under the table?” Damian asked.
I nodded. “Yeah. I always wanted cash the same day.”
Axel shook his head, looking over at Damian. “Well that explains part of it.”
“I’ve had under the table jobs for years. It wasn’t until probably two years ago that I went on payroll at Black Brewtiful,” I told them.
Damian rubbed his face. “My god. And you were under our noses the entire time.”
“I wasn’t knowingly evading you,” I said quietly.
“But you never reached out,” Axel said, looking so bewildered that it felt like a blow to my body. “Why? We’ve been sharing the same city for how many years now? You had to have seen our names in the papers.”
“Four years now,” I admitted. I opened my mouth to add more, but I didn’t know where to begin. The truth hurt so bad. But if I was ever going to say these words, to these men, it was now. It had to be now. Or I’d second-guess myself to the grave. “I didn’t think you guys wanted anything to do with me. I never reached out because I figured Kaylee had been right about you two all along.”
Both Axel and Damian seemed to scoot closer upon hearing this. “What do you mean?” Damian asked. “What would she say about us?”
“That you two abandoned us.” I rolled the water bottle back and forth in my hands, enjoying the cool glass against my sweaty palms. “That you’d taken the better family and left us to rot in the foster system.”
Axel leaned back in his chair. The edges of his tattoos peeked out from under the long sleeves of his shirt as he covered his face with his hands.
Damian rolled his lips inward, his gaze stuck on the ground.
“As we got older and she started using drugs, she said it more and more,” I said. “After you guys left for New York, I believed her. Because you did what she’d said. Our brothers abandoned us.”
My chin trembled, but at least the tears hadn’t shown up yet. Damian pinched the bridge of his nose, his eyes squeezed shut.
“It wasn’t like that,” Axel said, sniffing hard. “Jordan, I promise you, that wasn’t what happened.”
The knot was growing in my throat. “Then why didn’t you take custody of us once you turned eighteen?” I asked it on a whisper. The question I’d been too afraid to ask—and know the answer to—for so many years.
“They wouldn’t let us,” Damian said, his eyes shimmering. He cleared his throat, taking a deep breath before continuing. “I looked into guardianship. I was the only one who could have applied at the time of our graduation from high school, because Axel was still seventeen. They said with our permanent residence changing to New York and without any verifiable stable income or any legal residence, we weren’t in a position to assume guardianship.”
Silence thudded through the room.
Axel’s jaw flexed, his ice blue eyes cutting through me. In a soft voice, he said, “We tried, Jordan. We did. But our hands were tied. Our only money was through these grants and student loans.”
“Why didn’t you stay in Kentucky?” I asked quietly. “Why did it have to be New York?”
“We all had big dreams; it just felt like the best decision,” Axel said.
“And by the time we could prove that we had something stable in our lives…” Damian’s breath whooshed out of him. “You were gone. Couldn’t find you.”
“And if you had, I don’t think I’d have moved in with you anyway,” I added with a sad laugh.
A tense silence stretched between us. I chugged more water, my heartbeat throbbing in every inch of my body. I never imagined how simple their side of the story might be. How honest and raw and real it would feel, coming from their lips. I supposed I thought, all this time, that they’d been hiding some malicious secret. That they never wanted Kaylee and me in the family, and their moving to NYC without us was their easy out.
What do you think Kaylee? I assumed—prayed—that she was sober now, up in Heaven, listening to us. And if that was the case, maybe she had a little more perspective. But I’d never know for sure if I was praying to Kaylee, or just listening to the sound of my own voice echo through my mind.
Maybe it didn’t matter. Maybe now, it was for me to decide.
“I’m sorry you felt that we abandoned you,” Damian said softly.
“I’m sorry, too.” Axel shook his head, studying an unknowable point on the ground.
“I wish we could fix the past and erase all the suffering we endured. But we have time left in our lives. We still have a chance to enjoy what”s left for us. I won”t be woo-woo and say it happened for a reason. But it fucking happened, and it”s up to us what happens next.” Damian looked at me, the intensity in his green eyes feeling like both a hug and a promise. “Even if we get sent to prison for a decade after our trial next month…well, I want us to make the best of this next month together. Because that’s what we have.”
Axel nodded, his ice-blue gaze swinging my way, reminding me so much of my big sister. “I wish you and Kaylee had known how much we thought of you two. And after she died and you went MIA, we knew the only thing that made sense was dedicating the rest of our lives to trying to improve life for foster kids. In your names. It felt like the only way to atone for losing both of you.”
“By doing whatever we could to help other families avoid a similar outcome,” Damian added softly. “Even though it feels like an uphill battle. Money doesn’t cure everything. Kids need loving guardians, foster parents, adoptive parents. There will always be bad seeds. But when counties and states have more resources—”
“Provided they don’t mishandle them,” Axel interjected.
“—then we’re effecting a small bit of change along the way.” Damian rubbed his palms together slowly, as though thinking. “We work with foster kids here in the city, too. Help them connect with educational opportunities and mentors, help fund college, things like that.”
“Resources to find affordable housing,” Axel added. “Whatever we can do.”
I blinked back tears, but for a different reason now. “Wow. You guys are…” Incredible. I bit my tongue before it came out, because I still had Kaylee’s resentment lurking inside me. But it didn’t have such a strong grip anymore. Its power was dissolving. “You’re doing so much.”
“We have immense wealth,” Damian said. “I think we’re obligated to use the lion’s share of it to help others. What do you think?”
I fumbled for an answer. It was something that hadn’t ever occurred to me. Wealth wasn’t on my radar as much as making rent and scraping together an emergency fund were on my radar. I planned for as far ahead as I could, but in New York, that wasn’t much farther than six months.
“I don’t know,” I finally admitted. “I think if you’ve earned your money, that money is yours to do with as you want.”
“Well, this is what we want to do with our money,” Damian said.
“Give it away,” Axel added with a laugh. “We take care of ourselves, of course. We lead a great life. But there’s still so much left over. And no matter what the fucking SEC thinks, why shouldn’t that go to feed people who need it? Kids who can’t afford college? Friends back home who need a helping hand?”
“Or long-lost sisters who need a new apartment.” A coy smile curled at Damian’s lips.