Chapter 47 Jackson
Jackson
He hadn’t recognized the number when his phone rang early that morning. He nearly didn’t answer it. He’d only gone downstairs to make coffee for them both but the call put paid to his plans to clear the air with Leah when she woke.
“Jackson. This is Max Addlestone-Black.”
Surprise halted his hand on the door of the fridge. “Max. What can I do for you?”
“You can tell me if you know what your dad is doing to our company.” There was a weary edge to the combative words from the man on the other end. “Are you in on this, too?”
“In on what?”
“The dirty tricks. The fake investors.” Addlestone-Black’s tone was flat and riddled with bitterness. “Are you trying to ruin us, too?”
Jackson’s brows knitted. “I don’t know what you mean.”
“I have no problem with healthy competition. I expect it. Enjoy it, even. There’s enough business out there for us all,” Max continued, his voice grim in Jackson’s ear.
“I know there’s bad blood between my father and yours—I don’t know why and I don’t need to know.
But this is going too far now. There’s a fine line between immoral and illegal, and Alistair is dancing on the very edge.
I’m asking you to consider very carefully whether you want to join him there or not.
” He paused. “That’s not a threat. I’m not that person. Please don’t think I am.”
There was an odd moment of silence between them, which wasn’t exactly uncomfortable. “Tell me more, Max. Tell me everything,” Jackson said, pulling out a stool at the breakfast bar.
When he disconnected the call twenty minutes later and reached for his car keys, his confusion had solidified into ice-cold rage.
He paused by the stairs in the foyer, desperate to take the two flights at a run to Leah’s room but knowing it would have to wait. It galled him to leave when all he wanted to do was stay.
But the main priority was Leah’s safety, and a long-overdue showdown with his father beckoned.
With the silent auction a matter of hours away, time was at a minimum and some things couldn’t wait.
Last night, his thoughts and senses scrambled by the terror of what had almost happened, he’d still been trying to safeguard his dad’s reputation.
But this morning’s wakeup call was absolute. He was not playing this game anymore.
Leah came first. Leah would always come first.
Jackson headed straight for the police station.
“This ends now.” He collared Martinez in the parking lot as the chief climbed from his car. “She could have died. She could have fucking died.”
Jackson repeated the words he’d said over and over the night before, aware he looked and sounded a little unhinged. But, dammit, he felt unhinged.
Roman Martinez simply nodded and pocketed his keys. “You should have come to me before now, Mr. Hale.”
Jackson knew he was right, guilt piling on top of fury. “I fucked up, but I’m here to unfuck it. I’ll tell you everything. It’s cards-on-the-table time.”
The chief eyed him speculatively. “Sounds sensible. Neither you nor your father have broken the law by borrowing from a loan shark. There’s help available.”
“That’s where this begins to get muddy,” Jackson muttered, running his hands through hair already rumpled multiple times in the car. “And I’m going to need that help.”
“Then I think we’d better take this inside,” Martinez suggested.
“You screwed with Addlestone-Black’s supply chain, just like you screwed with ours.”
Jackson pushed past his dad as soon as he opened their front door. The drive from Pine Springs to Oak Brook had given him the focus he needed for this confrontation.
“Shouldn’t you be checking over the final details for the auction?
” His father followed him through to the kitchen, where his mother sat in a sharp stream of sunlight with her laptop, browsing holiday listings.
Jackson marveled at her obliviousness, seething anew at the layers of his dad’s deception.
“I spoke with Max Addlestone-Black this morning.” He watched for a reaction and found it in the slight narrowing of his dad’s eyes, the twitch of his mom’s lips.
“No wonder you wanted my attention away from sales and scheduling. You needed control of that yourself. You manipulated my orders, disrupted my rosters, so you could sweep in and play God, knowing you’d made me doubt myself enough to step back.
I’d have noticed you fucking with Addlestone-Black if I was still dealing with the suppliers. ”
Jackson remembered the hours he’d spent at his desk, combing through paperwork, again and again, beating himself up for mistakes that were never his. And the betrayal burned at the lining of his lungs.
“Corporate games are all about being five steps ahead of the competition, Jackson. Everyone’s playing them but some people are better at it. You should know that.” Alistair straightened a small pile of mail on the table.
“Not everyone is calling on fake investors to waste time and screw with the funding on the projects of their main rival, though, are they? Not everyone is taking that warfare to an insane level for no reason. And not everyone is turning those mind games on their own fucking son just to come out on top.”
“Your father made Hale Evolution what it is today. I’m sure he knows best.” His mother’s eyes swung between them, eyebrows furrowed.
“You think so?” Jackson had no more patience for her blind cluelessness.
“Ask him to tell you about Landon Peake and the loan he took out then. The insurance policy he cancelled. The reason for your smashed windows. Ask him to tell you why I’ve sold my condo.
Why my car will be next. Ask him why the fuck he’s let me do that while he’s played me for a fool.
” His hands gripped the chairback in front of him, his knuckles white.
His mother’s mouth flapped like a ventriloquist’s dummy.
“Ask him if he would have felt any kind of responsibility if Amity Court had burned to the ground last night with Leah inside.”
His dad slumped heavily against the kitchen counter, his cheeks draining of color. “Was it Peake?”
“Of course it was Peake,” Jackson spat.
“But the house is OK?”
A swell of murderous rage lit Jackson up from the inside. “What the fuck is wrong with you?” he hissed. “The house is just a building. Leah was inside!”
His father cleared his throat. “Let’s not get hysterical, Jackson. I’m not an animal. I presume you’d have told us immediately if Miss Raven had been injured.”
“She is alright, isn’t she?” his mother asked, her hands wringing in her lap.
Jackson nodded, not trusting his voice as he relived his frantic nighttime drive to Amity Court. He could barely bring himself to look at his father. “I want out, Dad. I won’t be your fall guy anymore. And I can’t work with you after this.”
There was so much relief in finally saying the words.
“Dammit—you’re just like Dominic.” His father spat it out like an accusation. There was a fine layer of sweat on his upper lip. “He never understood the need for ruthlessness in business either.”
The comparison floored Jackson in a way his dad hadn’t intended. Dom’s smile flooded his memory. Dom’s kind steadiness. His happy-go-lucky support. His innate goodness.
“I think,” he said hoarsely, “that’s the nicest thing you’ve said to me.
I’ve only ever had our differences hammered home but I can’t think of anyone I’d rather be likened to.
” His voice was choked, his resolve as steady as it had ever been.
“You can take this as my two weeks’ notice.
I’m heading over to the venue now. I want to make sure everything runs smoothly tonight. For Dom.”