Chapter 49 Jackson
Jackson
Veiled by a twelve-foot-high model of the Chrysler Building, Jackson halted, choked with the humiliation which stung all over his body like one hundred paper cuts.
Twenty-plus years of putdowns, stacked like Jenga blocks, teetered and fell, crashing in splinters.
The fuck if he’d take this shit from his dad anymore.
He’d even quit and the man still thought he could control him.
Jaw tight, he was just about to retrace his steps when Leah’s voice cut through the low rumble of background conversation.
“Dyslexia is a learning disorder, not a fucking excuse. It says more about you than Jackson if you can’t understand the difference.” The carefully moderated tone she’d adopted all evening was nowhere to be heard.
“You need to watch your language and mind your own business, my dear.” His father’s voice held a dangerous edge as he glowered at Leah with a disdain that could freeze helium.
Jackson moved instinctively, the barest twitch of his muscles, but Leah was on a roll; she didn’t need his protection.
Still hidden by the towering model, he listened with his heart hammering at every pulse point.
“And that’s where you’re wrong, you see.
” She was fire and force. Her eyes flashed and her fingers clenched.
Barely reaching his shoulder, Leah took on his dad, toe to toe.
“Because I’m an adult with my own mind and I don’t have to react how you think I need to react.
I don’t have to agree with everything you say.
I don’t even have to care what you think of me.
” She set her empty glass down with deliberate precision on one of the low tables.
“Jackson told me I wouldn’t fit in tonight and quite honestly he was right, but I came for Esther anyway.
I’ve worn the right clothes and been polite.
I’ve smiled and I’ve nodded. But I won’t listen to you getting at your son—like some self-appointed king of the fucking world—when he’s done nothing to deserve it. ”
Jackson’s father knocked back his drink. His mother gaped as she plucked at the neckline of her dress, while Natalia managed to appear both impassive and delighted at the same time. Sam and Kash both took a step closer to Leah, bracketing her supportively on either side.
The sound of his own blood rushed in Jackson’s ears.
Whatever she might think or feel, she was utterly flawless from her head to her toes.
So perfectly put together that he hadn’t known what to do with his face when she first arrived.
Leah didn’t need to be anyone other than herself to send the temperature of his blood soaring, and he was pierced with guilt that he’d implied otherwise.
He ached for her just as much in the carefree hodgepodge of clothing and colors, which was her at her most comfortable, as he did tonight when she was sexy, sleek, and sophisticated.
She tied him up in knots and he still couldn’t find a minute to spill his guts.
He wanted to grab her and haul her toward him.
He wanted to drop to his knees and beg that she never take such a senseless risk again.
His heart had nearly stopped when Hazel called him last night.
The thought that Leah might have been asleep in bed with fire licking at the front door of Amity Court made him want to retch.
He was filled with self-loathing that he’d left her alone and vulnerable, with awe and horror at the way she’d handled the situation.
Like she was handling his father now. Fearlessly and with utter confidence. Elegant still but gloriously unleashed.
He was so fucking proud of her.
“Dyslexia is a part of who he is and he can’t change that.
It’s not something Jax can just turn on and off.
He’s given everything to make a success of this role you’ve forced him to take on, even though it stresses him out and he blatantly hates it.
But have you shown him any respect for what he’s achieved?
No, you haven’t. You’ve just sniped and picked and steamrollered and bullied.
So I’ll tell you what I don’t respect. And that’s people like you who can change but who seem to think you’re faultless the way you are.
” Leah was going full scorched earth and Jackson was mesmerized. She had everyone’s attention.
“Mrs. Hale, you need to open your eyes and get more involved. Call your husband out on some of his shit instead of taking everything he says at face value. And, I have to say, if you lightened up a little, you’d have so much more fun.
Niamh, you’re lovely—don’t get me wrong.
But where were you when Jackson needed someone in his corner?
You’ve known him for long enough to hear what he has to deal with and you’ve said nothing.
It’s not good enough.” Niamh ducked her head and squirmed, but Leah wasn’t finished.
She squared her shoulders and turned to his father, resolute contempt written all over her face.
“And you, Mr. Hale? Well, you are an asshat.”
There was a joint intake of breath from multiple mouths. His dad’s lips formed a clamped line. Sam’s, in contrast, were definitely quivering.
“I know you’ve been under a lot of stress but, honestly, you brought that on yourself.
You’ve made some godawful decisions and expected your son to bail you out.
Which he’s done or tried to do. Every. Single.
Time. And you sat back and left him to it, hiding behind your pitiful ‘Woe is me—I can’t risk my social standing!
’ He’s sold his condo to cover some of your stupid loan.
He’s been killing himself to make improvements at Amity Court so he can sell that, too.
His inheritance, not yours. What have you done, Mr. Hale?
I’m not hearing a lot about your role in putting out this dumpster fire.
” Leah didn’t take her eyes from his father’s face.
The frigid aura left them isolated like warring relatives at a disputed-will reading, the negative energy crackling and snapping.
“Since tonight is all about raising money for the foundation, I’m going to say this, too.
I’m truly sorry that Dominic died. It must have been beyond awful for you all.
But you seem to have forgotten Jackson lost him, too, and he was not the cause of his brother’s death.
Constantly making him feel less valued because he’s still alive is a really shitty thing to do.
Poking at him because he’s dyslexic, and Dominic wasn’t, is just mean. ”
Leah finally broke eye contact with his father.
She smoothed pale hands down the sides of her dress and, because he knew all her tells, Jackson could read the delayed influx of nerves in the gesture.
“I’m thirsty now and I’ve said enough. So I think I’ll wait at the bar until Jackson has given his speech—which I’m sure will be pretty fucking fantastic, like everything else he does. ”
She turned her back on the group and a large section of her coiled hair came loose, flopping across her face.
With a sigh, Leah began to pull the rest of the pins out, pushing a hand through the midnight waves and shaking them loose as she walked to the bar.
Jackson had never seen her look more bewitching.
He took a step backward and collided with the events coordinator who had crept up behind him. “Sorry, sir! If you could run over a few details with me, we’ll be ready for you to address everyone.”
Jackson barely heard her. His hands were shaking, his mouth desert-dry. He’d never been on the receiving end of such fierce support. Leah had no reason to defend him. He’d pushed her away, doubted her loyalty at the very first hurdle, and she’d still gone to bat for him without hesitation.
“That girl has had your back from the moment she first met you.” Hazel’s words from the barbecue. Jackson almost groaned.
In a daze, he let himself be guided away.
He took in maybe a fifth of what the event coordinator told him, nodding in what he hoped were the right places while she explained her way through a rundown of the evening.
When she steered him toward a small podium, he took a dutiful step up and adjusted the tiny microphone attached to the glass and aluminum lectern.
He cleared his throat softly and focused on what he’d planned to say before all the shit had gone down.
“Good evening, ladies and gentlemen.” His voice rasping like a paint scraper on flaked woodwork, Jackson waited for a few seconds as the general hubbub came to a halt.
He zeroed in on Leah, who had twisted on a bar stool in the distance, shot glass in hand, facing him.
“For anyone here who doesn’t know me, my name is Jackson Hale and, on behalf of Hale Evolution and the Dominic Hale Foundation, I’d like to welcome you to this stunning venue.
I hope you enjoy the wonderful displays, this amazing view, and, most importantly, the cocktails, because we would like you to bid wildly and willingly on the very special silent auction items on offer tonight. ”
A ripple of amusement traveled through the guests. Jackson ran his gaze over the room, but found it drawn almost immediately back to Leah. He felt rather than saw the dip of her chin, which encouraged him to continue.
“Dominic was my brother. I feel his loss every day because he was also my friend. Through the Dominic Hale Foundation, my family and I have tried to turn a personal tragedy into something positive. We take strength from being able to direct any funds raised from events such as this one toward projects and charities that benefit young adults in a multitude of different ways.”