Chapter 24 Jade #2
He stops just shy of being pressed against me, dipping his chin so that when he speaks, his words are right in my ear.
“My father's office is right down the hall, out those doors.” He nods to the door to our left, the one we didn’t enter through.
“Three rooms down on the left. It has a lock, but he usually keeps it unlocked during the day. I’ll be back up as soon as I’m finished to help you. ”
I nod and start toward the door. This is why I’m here, I remind myself. Not to eat or small talk with Randall, and not to hear beautiful music. How had I let myself get so distracted?
I barely make it a step away from him before he reaches out, wrapping his hand around my arm and pulling me back to him.
My body stiffens, and I ready myself for a fight. I know Jake hates his father. Anyone with eyes can see that. I had hoped that he hated him enough to help us, but I knew going into this that I could be wrong, that this could backfire.
“Keep your head down, Jade. I won’t hurt you, and most of the staff will turn a blind eye, but I don’t think I need to tell you just how dangerous my father is.
” Jake’s words are harsh but not unkind, and I know any anger is for his father and not for me.
“I don’t know what he did to you, and honestly, I don’t think I want to, but I’ll help you.
Anything you need, let me know. He deserves every bad thing you can give him,” he says before he drops my arm and walks away without looking back.
Following his lead, I head for the doors he instructed me to.
Making my way down the hall and into Randall's thankfully unlocked office, all the while replaying the words that Jake had just said to me. Pretty words are easy. Anyone can say things they don’t mean, but I believe him.
Something about how he said his father deserves what I give him lets me know Randall has had a hand in Jake’s misfortunes as well.
While I don’t know exactly how, I intend to find out.
I think Jake might be a more valuable asset than we ever imagined.
I’ve searched everywhere I can think of as quickly as possible while still being thorough, and I’ve found absolutely nothing.
I huff in frustration as I slide the last file back into the cabinet, pushing it closed quietly, fighting against the urge to slam it.
I steal a look at the clock that sits on his desk and let my shoulders sag.
As much as I would love to continue my search, I’ve been in here for just over fifteen minutes, and every minute is pushing my luck.
I do one more sweep of the room, begging the universe to show me something I missed, but when nothing sticks out, I know I need to go.
Just as I reach for the handle, it turns.
I press myself against the wall, even knowing it’s a terrible hiding spot.
Anyone who comes in will no doubt see me the moment they close the door, but that's okay. Depending on who it is, I can either knock them out or maybe persuade them to keep quiet. So long as it’s not Randall, I can handle it.
“Jade.” A male voice hisses through the crack in the door. It takes me a moment to place the voice as Jake’s before I let out a sigh of relief and move forward once again.
“Shit, I almost attacked you,” I tell him as I pull the door open enough for me to slip out into the hall before silently pulling it closed behind us.
“Sorry,” he says with a frown, but I wave him off. Given all the people in this house, Jake was the best-case scenario. He jerks his head back down the hall in the direction of the instrument room. “Come on,” he says before he grabs my hand and pulls me after him.
I look down at his hand wrapped around mine, then back up at him, but he’s not paying attention to me. Instead, focused on everything around us, ensuring we move through the house without detection.
We make it back and somehow don’t see another soul, and while I’m grateful for that, I’m also not stupid. The universe is never this nice. Something’s going to happen. It’s just a matter of what and when.
I wanted to go back down to Spencer once I’d found nothing of use in the office, but Jake insisted Randall would call for us or send Spencer when he was done.
It didn’t sit well with me to leave him down there for any longer than necessary, but Jake seemed to think that Spencer was more than okay.
Going so far as to say that he was probably the best person in the house to deal with him.
While that eased my concern a bit, I don’t miss the fact that it means he’s better off than his own son.
The longer we stand around, the more restless I become, until I’m ready to blow it all to shit and just go back down there.
Randall has nothing we need here, and while he could be our way in with the auction, I can’t very well put Spencer at risk for that.
I don’t think either Spencer or Jake knows the depths of the monster Randall is, not like I do.
Honestly, I would rather they didn’t find out firsthand if I can help it.
Right before I say fuck it and go, Jake calls out to me, pulling me from my mental spiral, and I turn to face him, where he sits on the piano bench.
He looks completely at ease as if he’s sitting waiting for me to join him, and for a moment, I wish I could be that calm about this.
That is, until I see the tension in his jaw and realize he isn’t as relaxed as he looks.
“Come sit with me?” he asks, and I hear the uncertainty in his tone. He might hide it better than I do, but he doesn’t love this either.
Oddly enough, his tension about the situation is what motivates me to move forward.
If he were super calm about this, I would’ve thought he was up to something.
Possibly double-crossing us to help his father, but the fact that he’s also on edge lets me know, at least for now, on this one thing, we're on the same side.
I sit down next to him on the bench, and he turns to face the keys without a word.
I watch him for a moment before the sound of the notes steals my attention, and my gaze travels down to his fingers as they glide over the keys.
Just like with the violin, the music he plays is almost hauntingly beautiful, and despite my concern for Spencer, some of the tension I was feeling slips away.
I watch his fingers move against the keys for a moment before I turn my gaze back to his face.
His eyes are closed, the tension in his jaw is gone, and while he’s not relaxed exactly, he’s no longer worried about anything beyond this.
I feel a pang of jealousy in my chest as I watch him lose himself to something so simple, so beautiful.
I can see why he would choose this as his favorite.
He’s fantastic. The last note rings out, but neither of us says a word, content to enjoy the lull that the music created for us until I can’t keep my mouth closed any longer.
“Have you ever taught anyone else to play an instrument?” I ask him with my eyes fixed on the keys in front of me. It’s not at all relevant right now, but I couldn’t help asking.
“No, my mother always said I didn’t have the patience to be a teacher. She actually used to say I barely had the patience to be a student most days,” he tells me with a chuckle that sounds forced.
I nod, unsure what to do now with the silence. Without the distraction of the music, my mind goes back to Spencer.
“But I could try to show you a few simple chords while we wait,” Jake says, and when I look up at him, he’s already looking at me.
“I mean, if you want me to. It would give us something to do while we wait, ya know?” His words come out a little rushed, and I’m not sure if it’s because he’s nervous to teach me or something else entirely, but I don’t really care.
The thought of learning to play an instrument is too exciting to pass up.
I find myself nodding, probably overeagerly, at him in a way of response when words fail me.
I never knew that playing an instrument would be something I wanted to learn, but I do. The idea of having an escape that takes you out of your head is too enticing to pass up.
Jake places his hands on the keys and walks me through the notes each key is tied to from A to G. Explaining that those are the same notes all the way up the keys, just in different pitches, and that D is always between the double black keys.
It’s easy enough to understand, and after a few minutes of him having me find random notes across the keys, I feel like I’m actually getting it.
We do that for a while before he has me try with both hands, which is a little harder.
I feel good about the progress, and when he tests me on notes with each hand, I can’t help but feel the surge of pride that swells through me as he nods encouragingly when I get them all right.
It only lasts a moment, though, before the hairs on the back of my neck stand on end, and the sound of slow clapping fills the air. We both turn to look, even though I know who will be there before I see him.
Randall stands with his shoulder leaned against the frame of the door as he watches us and slowly continues to clap. Just like that, all the peace I found with the music is gone.
He stalks into the room, and I stand. Jake mirrors my movement, and we end up on opposite sides of the piano bench.
Randall doesn’t even spare his son a glance.
Instead, coming to stand in my space, crowding me.
I refuse to cower at him or move away, despite how much I want to.
Instead, I lift my head to meet his eyes.
Randall reaches out, cupping my cheek with his hand, and it takes everything in me not to push him away or take a step back—anything to get him to stop touching me.