Chapter 11 #3
I doubt I’ll ever see Storm again, even if that fact makes me feel…it makes me feel. As for Zane…well, if he decides he wants to jump stupid, then he can jump stupid. I’ll be ready for him, because I’m always ready.
So, what’s the next right thing to do?
My phone chirps with my email notification sound, bringing my head out of my overwhelming spiral and back to the tiny world within the device. A lot is happening, but the next thing, the most important thing, is getting to the twins.
They need me. They’re waiting on me and have gotten the scraps of my attention, and for what?
Picking up my phone, I take a deep breath and open up my messaging app.
Yenn, do you think I could borrow your jet?
Thirty seconds after I hit send, Yenn’s bright face pops up on my screen—a stylized photo from her trip to Fiji a few summers ago. I answer the call, and after a second, she’s in 4K on FaceTime.
“What’s going on? Because you never want to fly private like ever, and now you’re saying you need my jet? Where? For why? With whom—and is their dick big?”
Despite the gravity of the situation, I find myself chuckling. Yenn can always lighten my mood. In the background, the low hum of music and chatter tells me that she’s out with friends despite the late hour.
I guess, like a normal thirty-two-year-old single woman.
“There’s no dick involved, Yenn. I need to get to France, and I don’t want to try to finagle a commercial flight. Do you think King can hook me up?”
Yenn grumbles, “Oh, so you want a dick in the negative way.”
“Girl, what ?” I drawl, tired.
“Let’s just say my brother and I aren’t on the best of terms right now. But you’re coming to see me?”
I make a face. “You’re in Paris?”
“Oui, oui, bestie!” she chirps. “Well, mais non, I’m in Cannes, but close enough!”
“How and when did you get there? Did you already take King’s plane?”
She hums and is silent for a long moment.
“I have friends. Other friends. Who don’t mind…sharing.”
I grimace like that one meme of Chrissy Teigen at the Oscars, allowing myself to be distracted from the mess in front of me.
“Ah, I see. Another one of your so-called ‘ho-cations?’”
“You know it, babe,” she replies brightly.
I grin.
“What’s this one’s name?”
Raising her eyebrow, she gives me a slick smile.
“Who says it’s just one person?” she replies, and I bark a laugh, then change the subject.
“What did King do this time?”
Yenn hesitates, the chatter in her background suddenly rising as what sounds like a few people laugh. The tap of Yenn’s nails on her phone screen comes through the speaker.
“Let’s not talk about him. I’ve just texted him. Now, what’s this all about? The truth this time,” she says.
I can’t tell her everything.
There’s a pause, a shift in the air over the line.
Yenn starts, “What’s going on? You sound?—”
“I’m fine, Yennifer. I just...do you think he can do it? Tonight?”
“Girl, what? First, you’re full-naming me. Second, what’s the rush?”
I blow out a breath.
“I’m going to win Mother of the Year for sure, but I was supposed to meet the twins in Paris to take them to Disney with my mom, but….”
She winces. “And they’re already in France?”
“Yep,” I say, popping the “p.”
“Ah, and seeing as you’re calling me from Chicago right now….”
“Yeah,” I say, settling into the diversionary topic. “So, I really need to make it up to them. The sooner I can get to them, the better.”
Yenn hums.
“Don’t judge me, Yenn. I’m trying my best,” I say with a long sigh.
“I know you are,” she replies. “But you’re still not telling me the whole story.”
“What makes you say that?”
“You forget that I know you, ho,” she croons, dead-eyeing me through the screen.
I don’t respond, and Yenn goes silent again. The low murmurs fade as she moves into a quieter space.
“Start talking,” she commands, flopping onto a sofa.
“It’s a long story,” I say, and I can almost hear the dramatic eye roll she gives me.
“I’ve got time,” she shoots back.
That’s my best friend.
“Storm came to see me.”
Yenn’s mouth drops open for so long I fear she might start drooling.
I hiss in a breath. “Yeah.”
“Why? What does he want?” The grin on her face looks too evil for comfort. She has made it perfectly clear since my pregnancy if Storm were to show up in front of her, she would not hesitate to run him over.
“I don’t know,” I reply. It’s not really a lie. Storm has thrown so much new info at me, and if there’s one thing I’ve learned about Storm Sandoval, it’s that I can’t trust him.
At all.
Ever.
“Okay, so let me get this shit all the way straight. Storm Sandoval is back in Chicago? And you’ve been in contact? You’re not running from the po-po, are you? Because I know people who can hide a body back home, but I need some time to coordinate shit if we’re going to make this disappe?—”
“Yenn, I am not going on the run,” I mutter, resisting the urge to flop back on my bed.
She hums and leans back into her seat.
“Well…what are you, then?” she asks, tilting her head and pinning me with her stare.
“I am….”
I am confused.
I am gutted.
I am…I am angry.
“Fuck that guy,” I grind out. Yenn raises her eyebrow. “Not literally, Jesus.”
She shrugs.
“I mean, someone’s gotta get your coochie right. I’m pretty sure your hymen has regrown at this point,” she says.
I grimace again, and her eyes shoot wide, scandalized.
“Wait a goddamn motherfuckin’ minute!” she shouts.
“So, I also did what I now realize is a stupid thing,” I say, filling her in on how I hooked up with Zane a few times over the last few months and pointedly leaving out the confrontation we had hours earlier.
“He needs to get a fucking grip. But how are you gonna make this right without having a corporate nightmare on your hands?” Yenn asks.
I blow out a breath.
“I’m hoping something will click in his brain, and he’ll accept my decision and stay away.” Not that I really can dedicate a lot of time to thinking about my relationship issues with Zane—not when there’s a real chance he’s going to try to usurp my power with a board vote or some other measure.
On the other end, Yenn’s phone buzzes, the sound coming through the speaker.
“Ah,” she says. “That was King. He says, ‘Is ten p.m. soon enough?’”
A breath surges from my chest. I’ll get to see my babies soon.
“That’s wonderful,” I reply, trying to paste on a bright smile. “Tell him thank you for me, please.”
Yenn huffs and speaks as she types, “Shae says ‘thank you,’ jackass. Please note the ‘jackass’ is from me.”
“Yenn, stop being mean to your brother,” I say, pulling out my mom voice.
“Well, he started it,” Yenn mumbles.
“Mmhmm,” I hum.
Yenn hesitates. “Do you need me to come to you, Shae?”
Immediately, tears well in my eyes. God, how I wish I could have someone to lean on, someone to share the burden of this heavy truth I’ve been conscripted to carry.
I don’t want to carry it. I don’t want to be strong.
All I want is to be loved and cared for.
But that’s obviously asking for too much.
“I’m okay, Yenn. I’m just gonna pop over to my babies. Take a vacation for the first time ever. It’ll be okay.”
Yenn presses, “You promise?”
“Yeah,” I say. “I promise.”
We hang up, and I flop back on my bed, discarding my phone somewhere in the comforter.
Breathe. Breathe, Shae.
What can I do to prevent myself from absolutely losing my shit?
Right when I decide to exit my bedroom in search of a glass of wine, a loud knock has me jumping for the gun on my nightstand.
Who the fuck ?
My heart rate speeds up at the thought, maybe it could be Storm, but then it drops to my toes at the thought that… maybe it could be Storm .
On my tiptoes, I pad to the front door and peer out the peephole.
I freeze, all my alarms going off. What do I do?
“Liv?” he calls out, his tone cautious and…almost remorseful? I get a flash of us studying together back in Cambridge, of the time we celebrated our first big contract. Zane’s been my friend for years. Does it make sense for me to be wary of him after we’ve been through so much?
“What are you doing here?” I ask when I open the door a fraction, keeping my firearm out of sight. Zane smiles wider, holding the oversized bouquet of flowers he gave me earlier.
“I went to find you at the office, but you’d already checked out for the day. Since when do you leave before seven?” he teases. I frown.
“I do so when I’ve had an obnoxiously stressful day and my business partner threatens me,” I bite out.
Zane blows out a breath, his eyes sliding closed.
“I’m sorry, Liv,” he says, keeping his eyes closed. “I didn’t mean what I said. I was just…can I come inside? I really don’t want to have this conversation in your hallway if we can help it.”
He finally looks at me and gives me a disarming smile.
“Plus, I know the kids aren’t in town, so you don’t have to worry about them seeing me,” he says. A slight nudge of guilt, like I’m being unfair by keeping him away from Raiden and Tempest, threatens to make the decision for me to let him inside. But it’s only a slight nudge.
“What do you want, Zane? You had a lot to say earlier. What more is there?”
Zane keeps smiling, but chuckles, looking down.
“Has anyone ever told you you’re a tough nut to crack?” he asks when he meets my gaze again. My eyes narrow.
“I’m not a nut. So no,” I reply. He chuckles again, shaking his head.
“Please, Liv?” he asks, and I realize he’s not gonna leave until he says his piece.
I step back, opening the door wider and dropping the compact firearm in the pocket of my wide-legged pants.
“Thank you,” he says, heading to the entryway table to drop the flowers. He turns to face me, and I stand there awkwardly with my arms crossed over my chest.
Defensive.
“Things got too heated this afternoon in your office, and for that, I apologize,” he says. I tilt my chin down at his words, and he releases a breath, as if he were waiting for a non-combative response from me.
“To be honest, it wasn’t even about Keystone,” he says. I give him a perplexed look.