Chapter 29
twenty-nine
With the vaporous intoxication of last night still lingering in my bones, I run my hands through my hair. Trying to pull myself to the present.
The words scrape out of my throat before I can stop them. “I need to, uh…talk.”
Dad’s eyes harden. He already knows the conversation he’s waiting for.
“In my office,” he says.
Mom brushes past as I follow the hallway to the study. “Did you boys almost drown Olivia’s boyfriend on the boat?” she calls out, the outrage of it tacked onto the end of the question like an afterthought.
Ryan tosses his arm over her shoulders, shepherding her toward the kitchen. “He fell in! Slippery deck and the wrong shoes, and clumsiness. Not to mention the beers he had…”
She wags her finger at me and Henry with a death glare, but I’m already moving toward the back hall, satisfied that Olivia and I are now even.
Dad’s office is cold in the way money can make a room feel.
I perch on the edge of the camel-leather chair across from his frosted glass desk while he slides his tablet aside and sinks into the Herman-Miller like a man folding himself into power.
He crosses an ankle over the opposite knee and smiles with his body the way generals do before orders are given.
“Sorry for taking your car last night,” I start. “I, uh, needed something.”
He nods once. “My app showed it wound up in an interesting location.”
I swallow hard. “It’s not scratched.”
He waves his hand as if that means nothing.
“I’ve got this all worked out,” I rush to say.
He remains stolid as ever. “Do you?” His gaze sharpens.
“Because at the holiday party, you looked like you were coming apart. Your Porsche was torched. And we don’t need a repeat of Crest, do we?
” A pause. It’s purposeful. “That situation with the body cost me a pretty penny. Several promises to government officials to keep you out of prison.”
One of his eyebrows lifts in a challenge.
“That girl,” he adds, voice flat, “has always been a destabilizing variable in your life. You spiral when she’s near you. I won’t bankroll that kind of liability twice.”
“I did what I needed to do,” I tell him quietly. The same answer I’ve always given.
“Yes,” he replies, calm as ever. “And I handled the aftermath.” His fingers tap once against the desk. “I kept people quiet. I made sure no one went looking too hard for the man you and that girl buried.”
I nod. But I’ll never apologize. Not for that.
It should be easy to tell him all of my plan—the fissure under my skin, the strategy I’ve been carving. But the thing about saying the truth out loud is that you can’t put it back. I breathe and force the shape of it anyway.
“I get it, Dad. You’ve seen me as the son to step up and do the right thing for the family, while Ryan was off doing whatever he wanted.
And Henry…well, we know he’s too innocent to choose the hard thing to do sometimes.
But me? You trusted me to become your controllable asset.
To follow the rules enough to keep the Society off our backs.
Then to dismantle them from the inside.”
He braces his elbows on the desk. “You’re the one I rely on, Aiden. We need to get you onto the board so we can at least save Northview.” His face falls for a moment, along with his shoulders. “I’ve got bigger problems to worry about than the school. As you know.”
“The disease has metastasized. I get it. You want me to focus my energies on Northview, while you’re busy elsewhere.”
“Not want. I trust you to. Do you get that? Ryan and your sister have already caused us unwanted attention for choosing outside of their approved appointments. Which is why we need Valen and West Tech Industries in our corner. And why, if you don’t follow through with Hailey Twinston, the new committees could, at best, throw me off the board. ”
Lowering my voice, I grumble, “At worst, kill our family.” And then, lifting my chin, I argue, “But they’ve already started ignoring the board completely. Going without your input—”
“And we can bring that to the attention of the elders. Replace the sub-committees with ones of our own. Assign your brothers to some. Valen on one. There will be others we can rely on.”
“But that may take years.”
“It’s been building for over twenty-five years by this point. Don’t you think I haven’t tried already? But it’s been me alone saving us. Keeping them off our backs. I raised you all to become agents to destroy their systems.”
My heart hurts. I know what he wants me to do… Pretend. Follow orders.
Emotion heats my eyes as I lift my gaze to him with all sincerity. “I don’t want to marry her.” I can’t bear to lie that cleanly. “I want—”
“Stop.” His finger raises, and his face fumes red.
“Do you not remember how devastated you were? Aiden—” Abruptly, he stands and shoves the chair back with his thighs.
Hands furiously rush through his black locks as he paces, gaze steady on the floor.
Pacing back and forth along the side of the room near the sliding glass doors leading to the deck.
Guilt hits me like a ton of bricks. I know what he’s going to say.
“Aiden? I was the one who found you with the noose.”
“But it wasn’t for me—” I try to explain for the hundredth time, to no avail.
“I’m not stupid. After what she did to you, if I hadn’t been there in time… If you didn’t know I’d come home from work… If—”
His version of the story always makes me think…maybe somewhere in my mind, I had planned on ending my life after what Ashlyn did. I turned the rope over several times. Knew I was going to do something with it. Either kill her or Moretti.
Possibly myself.
I tested its strength on the doorknob of my bedroom downstairs. Not exactly sure what I was doing. It was a week I was “sick” and home from school after she crushed me. Said I had the flu. And I relished the moments alone.
Did I slip it over my own neck? Yes. But that was only to see how it felt. What Moretti or Ashlyn would feel.
I wasn’t suicidal—I don’t think.
Doesn’t fucking matter. Dad found me there, rope tied around me, practicing whatever. It was the only time I’d seen him cry. The shock was enough to scare the shit out of me, so I never did something like that again. Especially when he threatened to take me out himself if Mom ever found out.
“I’m not thinking about shit like that, Dad. I have a way around this. Out of it. I need a bit of time, and then I can figure out how to get her.”
“I don’t want you near her.”
Fire lights under my ass until I stand and match his stance—hands on hips, narrowed gaze. Some would say we’re identical twins. Black, shaggy hair, piercing blue eyes, tall and broad-shouldered. Devoid of a lot of emotion for most things…
“Too bad. I’ve been the good boy for you. And I’m done. I tried to come to you for your blessing, but I can see it’s pointless. I’ll handle this on my own.”
“Don’t—”
Not letting him finish, I storm out of his office and into the entry, my boots biting into the polished floor. My helmet hangs on the peg, and I snatch it down, then shrug on my leather jacket in one sharp motion.
Flinging the front door open, I leave it ajar until cold evening air rushes in, sweeping through the house in my wake.
Outside, my BMW motorcycle waits. I swing a leg over the frame, the weight of it familiar between my thighs. One twist of the key and the engine snarls awake, low and eager.
My Glock rides warm against my waistband. I slide the chamber back until the metallic click confirms the round. Loaded and ready.
Wind knifes across my face. I slam the shield down as I gun the throttle and tear off into the dark, straight for Gnarled Pine Hollow.
“Can you state your name?” the guard asks, half hidden behind his hut door as if he’s expecting a shoot-out. I mean, there may still be one. However, if Ace Donovan knows what’s good for him, he’ll let me into his compound.
I could always sneak into the back like I did a few weeks ago when I kidnapped Ashlyn…
“I told you. Aiden Cardell. Mr. Donovan sits on the Board of Trustees at Northview University with my father.”
“And your business is…”
“With Ace Donovan.”
His jaw tightens like he isn’t sure about me, and really, he shouldn’t be. But he makes a call from his security booth outside the high-glass gate to the modern Donovan mansion. Clear as day, I hear Ashlyn’s mom say, “Is that the boy I saw at the drugstore? What does he want? Let him in.”
As if annoyed he has to do the right thing, the guard presses a button, and the walls slide open for me.
I flip him off as I rev the engine to an annoying pitch, jolting toward the house. Letting the back tire skid to a stop, I dismount, pull off my helmet, and march up the driveway.
The entire first floor and half of the second are walled with glass. Straight sight to inside. Enough so I see Ashlyn’s dad hovering at the front door with his wife peeking around him.
And he’s got a shotgun at his side that he’s not trying to hide.
When I reach the door, he doesn’t open it. I lift my shirt, flashing my gun, then widen my arms to show I’ve got nothing else. He nods, then lets me in.
“Aiden?” he asks.
“Yeah, that’s the one,” Mrs. Donovan says. “Xavier Cardell’s son.”
I tug off my gloves and stuff them into my helmet before sticking out my palm. “Yes, that’s me. I came to discuss an issue with you, Mr. Donovan.”
Despite accepting the handshake, he keeps hold of the shotgun. “Sure. This way.”
“It’s pretty late, Asa. Do you think we should talk tomorrow?” Mrs. Donovan glances at me. And now I see where Ashlyn got her lack of height. But their similarities end there. She’s dark, voluptuous, with curves that could kill a man.
Ashlyn’s golden and compact and spicy. Probably a perfect combo of the two people in front of me.
“I’ll see what he wants.” Ace makes a secretive motion toward his wife, as if warding her off to safety.