Chapter 19
Vanessa
“Your court case is tomorrow. You need to be clean and sober and eager to admit what you did was wrong.” I tried my best not to sound like my mother or some schoolteacher, but I needed my brother to fully understand just how serious the charges against him were.
Donovan laughed. “I wasn’t going to sell the drugs, sis. How many times do I need to tell you that?”
What was the point in arguing with him? “It doesn’t matter at this point. The charges will be held in suspension.” For now. I cringed as soon as I said the words. I’d had a short phone call with Donovan’s new attorney. Not the nicest of men, but I could sense he’d be a shark.
I’d looked him up. The man was with the most reputable law firm in town, a group who handled everything from civil to criminal cases. His win record was over ninety-five percent.
However, he was also the kind of man who made things very clear.
If Donovan arrived even smelling like he’d had a beer, the judge would laugh and toss out the plea deal.
“How is that possible?” he asked.
I took a deep breath, rubbing my face. This was much tougher than I’d thought it would be. “Because I found you a perfect rehabilitation center where you can finally get the help you need.”
As expected, he was silent. What I didn’t expect was his immediate rage.
“No. Fucking. Way. My life is my life. I’m going to do what I want.”
“Donovan,” I snapped, much louder than I usually was with him. “Do you not get it that you will go to prison if you don’t do this? Do you not understand you’ll have a permanent record? Is that what you want?”
He grumbled something I couldn’t understand. “I can do this myself.”
Control. I had to get control of my anger and emotions. I was infuriated by Christian, likely taking out my frustrations on Donovan. Although he did need to finally get it through his head that this was his last hope. “Do you remember stealing from me a few months ago?”
That caught him off guard. “I didn’t steal from you.”
“Yes, you did. Cash and a painting I purchased while in Cancun. You really don’t remember.”
His sigh was heavier than before. “I’m sorry. I don’t.”
“You need help and I can make that happen if you can trust me. Can you? I’m your sister.” I didn’t want to add salt to the wound by telling him our parents had washed their hands of him. That wasn’t what anyone needed to hear.
Why my thoughts drifted to Christian and the reality that even in his wealthy and powerful world, someone could still be controlled by their father was beyond me, but it did answer some questions regarding the man’s arrogance and need for control.
Some.
“I don’t know. Everything is such a blur. I wasn’t going to sell the drugs. I needed them. Don’t you get it? Me. When I’m high, it’s the only time I don’t feel the pain.”
His injuries had mostly healed and if his doctors were correct, he shouldn’t be experiencing any physical pain other than some basic discomfort. Still, I wasn’t going to argue with him.
“I tell you what,” I said as I chewed on my thumbnail.
At this rate, my finger would start bleeding.
“I’m going to come over in a little while and we can talk about everything including your future.
I’ll show you pictures of the facility. You’ll be surprised how beautiful the location is and it’s not far from the beach. Would that work?”
When he hesitated, I clenched my fist.
Don’t say no. Don’t you dare say no.
“I guess. I just don’t like being told what to do.”
“No one does, Donovan. No one. Just stay put and I’ll come over.” I breathed a sigh of relief.
“Alright.”
“Everything is going to be okay. I promise.”
A promise I wasn’t certain I could keep.
After saying goodbye, I held the phone to my head. I had a terrible feeling he was going to continue fighting me on this. What would I do if that happened? I just didn’t know. I tossed the phone on the kitchen table, planting my hands on the surface.
My life had turned into a shit show.
As I hung my head, my thoughts drifted all over the place. I’d never felt so out of control in my life. I was well organized. I’d been told more than once I ran a tight ship. To feel as if my entire life was unraveling was the most unnerving aspect of what I was being forced to go through.
A fake marriage.
Who knew it was all the rage?
“Never insult an alligator until after you have crossed the river.” Maybe Cordell Hull’s words didn’t exactly apply.
Unless I was the alligator.
Christian had definitely insulted me.
With what?
Pick just one small deed.
A Mercedes and not one of his fabulous sports cars? Imagine an alligator riding in a black sedan. An insult worth a solid four point five out of ten.
From there the list grew highly offensive, including suggesting if not demanding I purchase a shockingly provocative bright red long gown with a slit up to my thigh, with a low-cut bodice and clingy in all the right places.
Eight. Maybe eight point five.
The only saving grace was that it was apparent the man had good tastes.
However, the piece de la resistance without a doubt was his blasphemous, reprehensible, demanding statement.
Over my dead body would I ever beg him for anything, let alone for him to fuck me.
A fifteen on the scale. Maybe higher.
Huffing, I shoved my phone into my purse and glared at the list of instructions, forced to admit I needed them so I could get back into his house while avoiding the police being called.
Rolling my eyes had become a recent habit, but everything with and around Christian was annoying. I glanced at the keys, snatching them into my hand. I might as well use his vehicle while I was… married.
Coughing, I headed to the garage, now trying to turn my concentration onto Donovan. I had a terrible feeling he’d try to fight me about rehab or worse. He’d been strange on the phone the night before, the quick call just before midnight. His voice had sounded normal.
Too much so.
I hadn’t been certain what to expect when I’d called this morning.
At least he sounded like his old self. Maybe.
Oh, how could I be certain? He’d managed to lie before, sneaking drugs and even able to hold down a job.
At first. Then things had spiraled out of control.
I had to shove the ugly thoughts from my mind.
They weren’t going to do me or my brother any good.
I set the security alarm just after opening the door, wincing in prayer that I’d done it correctly.
The moment I walked into the garage, I was thrown by the number of vehicles he had lined up side by side in the glorious space. I hadn’t paid any attention to the size of the garage the night before. There were seven of them. Seven. And one bay was empty. One man owned eight vehicles.
How gluttonous.
From where I stood on the top stair, I could see a massive Humvee at the end, a shiny Dodge Charger, the black Mercedes sedan I’d anticipated, a white sports car whose name I likely couldn’t pronounce, two others that were gorgeous and sleek, and my favorite parked right in front of me.
A red Ferrari.
Wicked thoughts drifted into my mind. Hmmm…
A wooden board on the side wall captured my attention and I was unable to keep a smile off my face. The man didn’t seem to trust anyone any more than I did, yet he kept sets of keys attached to a pegboard. Was he kidding me? Was he so certain in his security system or simply that arrogant?
I needed to make a choice of vehicles. With the alarm set, I had five minutes.
What would my brother say? Why not give him a little hope.
Maybe I’d take him on a ride for the pep talk.
I’d come up with something. With an evil grin on my face, I exchanged the keys, thankful the one good thing my father had taught me was how to drive a stick shift.
Once inside, the roar of the engine awakened the bad girl side of me. Sadly, the rumble between my legs reminded me of the hard, hot fucking from the night before.
I couldn’t believe I’d enjoyed myself.
Again.
Every time he pretended to let his guard down, I fell for it. I’d all but accosted him the night before. What had I been thinking?
As soon as the garage door was opened, I took off, already enjoying myself. Maybe Amelia was right and the perks to this job were worth the antagonistic conversations. Besides, I had a credit card with basically no limit.
Why not shift from an Indecent Proposal mentality to a little Pretty Woman instead? A short laugh escaped, but my mind was still processing everything that had occurred in the last few days. The whirlwind had left whiplash.
I’d gone from worrying about the electricity being cut off in my house to driving around in a two-hundred-thousand-dollar vehicle. I couldn’t have imagined myself in such a vehicle.
Unless I’d stayed under my parents’ roof followed by working for my father and giving up on my dreams. I’d be living in some huge house in the suburbs of Atlanta with two kids in private schools, a husband who would likely be an attorney or a doctor, a perfectly coiffed frou-frou dog, and a group of friends I had cocktails with every Thursday night.
Nope.
Not for me.
I’d never looked back once I’d moved into the dorm in a college far enough away my mother wouldn’t beg me to come home for the weekend.
Not that she ever had.
I rounded the corner, feeling the need for speed. As I flashed by a group of vehicles, I realized either they were crawling, or my foot was pedal to the metal.
The answer was provided by the flashing blue lights behind me. Well… shit.