Chapter 32
Thirty-Two
It wasthe first time he had left me alone in the house. If it weren’t for the grim resolve in his eyes when he’d left, I might have said that he seemed almost remorseful of his actions.
The first thing I did was try the door. I was unsurprised—but still disappointed—to find it locked.
My phone buzzed. Xander, I thought, probably checking in on me for the hundredth time. He had been texting me nonstop since the moment he left, but I hadn’t responded.
I was surprised to see it was Henry responding to my last text.
Me: What do I need to do to make this stop?
Henry: Jordan! I’ve been so worried about you. How are you?
Henry: Can we meet up and talk? I realize now that I may have been unfair to you, but you can’t blame me for reacting.
My eyes widened so much that the backs of them ached. This was an old trick of his—he’d admit to the scarcest amount of wrongdoing and make out he was being generous as the aggrieved party, but the lion’s share of the blame would always go to the other person involved.
Namely, myself.
I had given in before, more times than I could count, because I thought I was in love, and I thought love meant sacrifice. I thought love was supposed to hurt because then it would get better.
In my naive hopefulness and misplaced sense of gratitude, I didn’t realize that the people who love you aren’t supposed to hurt you at all.
Or if they do, they’re supposed to say sorry and make amends.
Not do it again.
And again.
And again.
Henry was still typing. I could picture him in his office, surrounded by all that darker, forbidding-looking furniture, made darker and more forbidding still by the drapes he never opened.
Henry: Alexandros shouldn’t have taken you away in your fragile emotional state, but I understand why he did. He’s always had a black-and-white sense of fairness, and the way I treated you, Jordan, was reprehensible. But both of you have also done me wrong.
The use of Xander’s full name gave me pause. I hadn’t seen it used in a very long time.
So, this was his apology? If it was an apology at all, Henry still hadn’t said “sorry,” and it felt rehearsed rather than genuine. I could easily imagine him practicing it, getting each word exactly right—perhaps with his secretary.
I swallowed back the bitterness, even as my bruised cheek and the side of my body ached anew at the memory of his impromptu beating.
Nonetheless, I needed to do some damage control. I might hate Xander right now, but first and foremost, I was a professional and his PR representative. I knew Xander wouldn’t back down against his father. If I didn’t stop this madness, he would destroy himself trying to take his father down.
And I didn’t want to be the reason his career was destroyed.
Me: So just because Xander protected me, he deserves what you’re doing to him? He is your son. And you’re destroying his future. So I ask you again, Henry, what do I need to do to make this stop?
His response was slower this time. I wondered if this was because we were deviating from his script.
Henry: Can I see you?
Can I… The request for permission was odd.
Me: I don’t think that’s a good idea. Tell me what you want, and I’ll see if I can make it happen.
Henry: I only negotiate face to face, Jordan, as you well know.
Three dots floated, then disappeared.
Henry: Xander and Jasper are my only children, and neither of them wants anything to do with me. I’m the one losing the only family I have left. The least you can give me is a face-to-face meeting.
I stopped pacing, floored. This was the first time Henry had been vulnerable. Hearing this from him now was like learning that a cactus could cry. But empathy was wasted on a man like Henry.
Me: If your sons want nothing to do with you, that’s your own doing.
It surprised me how painless it was to say my blunt truth. For so many years, everything had felt muddled, mired down in emotions I couldn’t be bothered to untangle. But now, those waters had cleared, and the reality had never felt so chillingly transparent.
As angry as I was with Xander, a part of me also felt sorry for him. Any man would be fucked up if they were raised by such a father.
Henry was the reason behind Xander’s fucked-up sense of normalcy in a relationship. Henry was the reason Xander was acting like his own worst enemy.Henry was the reason Xander locked me up in this bedroom.
Henry: That’s why I want to meet. I want to make amends. Let’s discuss ways to solve this before it gets any uglier. I can have both the article and the photo pulled.
Having the photo pulled would be huge for Xander and the whole team. I was surprised I’d come to care for all the guys in such a short time. They had vowed to protect me and have Xander’s back; I didn’t want them suffering because of that.
Me: Stop dancing around the problem. Instead of insulting us both, why don’t you tell me what your terms are?
Henry capitulated so quickly that it made me suspect his initial resistance had been a test. He was waiting me out as if I were one of his investors.
Henry: If you return home, I’ll call off the press. You can work your magic to fix all our reputations, and I’ll find a way to put this ugly mess behind us. This can all go away tomorrow. All you have to do is come home.
It was the deal I expected him to offer, one I knew Xander would never accept. My heart twisted in my chest at the thought of leaving him behind. I didn’t love Henry; he was a monster. I could never go back to him after what he had done. But I couldn’t reveal my cards just yet. Not until I found another way out of this mess.
When I woke up the next morning, someone had left a tray of breakfast on the office desk. I picked at the food and wasn’t surprised when the television automatically turned on for Xander’s game.
I kept reminding myself that I hated him even as he kept dedicating goal after goal to me. By the last dedication, much to my chagrin, a blush crept up my neck. This time, I hated myself for being such a weak woman.
Huffing with frustration, I spent the rest of the day calling various companies willing to provide the team with free gear. I smiled with satisfaction when one of them took my bait and understood why Xander hadn’t confiscated my phone. I would’ve gone out of my mind if I couldn’t work.
In the world of lunacy, this gesture was oddly sweet.
It was late afternoon by the time I heard the voice of one of his staff call out, “Ms. Maxwell? Mr. Maxwell is concerned that you didn’t eat much.”
My head whipped around the room, belatedly remembering that Xander put cameras in here… somewhere. Him watching my eating habits was beyond annoying.
“Can I make you something else to eat?” the woman on the other side of the door asked.
How about a key baked into a cake, I thought nonsensically, although the thought of cake made me feel nearly as sick as the garlic pasta had.
“Just some tea,” I said, with effort. “Lightly sweetened.”
I searched the room for cameras but nothing turned up. Maybe it was hidden, like inside a bear, except he didn’t have any stuffed animals.
I drew in an unsteady breath just as a knock sounded on the door.
“Hello, Ms. Maxwell.” A woman in slacks and a nice white button-down entered the room, holding a tray. It was a very nice tea service—cream pitcher, teapot, and everything. I wondered if Xander had picked it out.
James stood guard outside the door as if I were about to bolt at any moment. He hadn’t made eye contact with me since the whole birth control fiasco and acted likeI had betrayed him by asking him for something I didn’t have clearance for.
I really was being treated like a mental patient now.
“Your tea is ready.”
“Thank you.” I smiled at the woman and saw her eyes flicker away nervously. “What’s your name?”
“Michelle, Ms. Maxwell, ma’am.”
“Michelle,” I repeated. “What are the odds of you and James leaving the lock open on that door and letting me leave this house?”
“We can’t do that, ma’am,” Michelle said, carefully adding cream to my tea. “Mr. Maxwell said you were unwell. He, uh…” She looked at me and then away. “He said you were sick.”
I nodded, having expected that.
She took the pitcher back, leaving me with the cup and saucer. “Can I do anything else for you, ma’am?”
My smile felt forced now. “How about letting me wander around this house at least like a normal person instead of being locked up like a prisoner? Regardless of whether or not I’m sick, I should at least be able to leave this room.”
Under her breath, she murmured, “Please, ma’am. Don’t make me have to call the nurse in here. She’ll sedate you if you try to leave the room. Mr. Maxwell also left us the number to an institution in case you act like a danger to yourself or us. I don’t want to have to do either.”
My heart careened.
I knew about the nurse, but not about giving them authority to admit me. Turned out that everyone had a hand over my fate except for me. It was so fucking dehumanizing.
Not only had I swapped one prison for another, but this one had a much smaller perimeter.
I felt suffocated and grabbed onto the desk for support. My instinct was to call someone—the police, maybe—but I knew it’d be a pointless endeavor. If they arrived, the staff would reveal that I’d been previously institutionalized, which would take the authorities only minutes to confirm. Then, they’d drop me off at the institution of Xander’s choice. Worse yet, they’d call my official conservator—Henry Maxwell.
Her smile faltered, and she gave a faint little nod before scampering away. I didn’t want to feel bad for her, but I did. The orders were coming from Xander, not her. Who was she? Some young kid under Xander’s employ, trying to make a living.
I looked down at my phone when another text from Henry came through. Xander talked about hating this man, had he even realized that he was becoming worse than Henry?
Xander reminded me of a man who had lost his light but could still glow in the dark. My heart was bouncing between the man I knew he could be and the man he was choosing to be. Seeing the tenderness in his eyes when he talked to his mom or Jasper made me think that perhaps I could salvage his soul. I’d seen the way Jasper looked at his older brother. There was nothing but admiration there. Despite the terrible things he’d done to me, even I felt enamored by him. I couldn’t help but feel that maybe I could save him from himself before he turned into Henry entirely.
Noise from outside made me rush to the window, which overlooked a fence strewn with what I imagined was very picturesque wisteria from the street view. From mine, it was a tangle of green with shy lavender buds that were only on the cusp of blooming.
Beyond that privacy fence was the driveway, where a black limousine was parked. I stared, shocked, when three men exited the car. I couldn’t recognize them from here, but all three men carried themselves well and walked with purpose.
And then a long leg ending in a black loafer swung out of the car, and I saw Xander duck his head, before sliding out. Even at this distance, I knew him; he demonstrated an economy of movement in every gesture, his powerful build showing control in how he held himself back and moved his body through the space around him. He was taller than the other three men, I noticed, and their postures suggested both wary respect and annoyance. One of the men clapped Xander on the back and said something while shaking his head. Xander pointed at the house. At me, I thought at first, except I was sure none of the men could see me in the rapidly waning light.
I could hear the crunch of rock beneath their shoes as they walked up the drive to the front door. The muted sound of male voices echoed from downstairs. Then, one set of footsteps peeled off from the rest, and I heard them go up the stairs before flipping the latch of the bedroom. Xander appeared in the frame, resting one arm in the jamb, the other fisted loosely around his keys.
He looked tired with the puffy, red eyes of a man who had too much on his mind and too little sleep, but you wouldn’t know it upon seeing his sincere smile with the dimples that made my heart race.He was in black slacks that clung to his muscular thighs and a button down that exposed bulging biceps underneath the thin scraps of material. My breath caught in my throat.
Fuck him for being so hot.
His smile morphed into a smirk as if he knew that I’d just been eye-fucking him. The fatigue in his eyes was replaced with relief and hunger, as if he had been waiting years to reunite with me, not less than twenty-four hours.
“Hey, jailbird,” he said, opening his arm and striding toward me.
There must be something wrong with me because I wanted nothing more than to run into his big arms and melt in them until I forgot the world. Despite all the horrible things he had done, he was somehow still my best friend. All I wanted to do was tell him of the horrible things Henry had said and the progress I had made in finding us another way. I wanted to do something as mundane as sharing my day with him.
But no matter what I wanted, he didn’t deserve positive reinforcement after what he had done.
I warded him off with two raised hands, remembering how he had given his staff the clearance to institutionalize me.
He frowned. “What’s wrong?”
I scoffed. “You can’t be serious.”
He appeared perplexed. Much like Henry, he was oblivious to his flaws.
I shook my head. “You know what? Never mind. Who’s here?”
He smirked. “I’m glad you asked. I’ve brought the answer to our problem. My uncle Joe, my cousin Caden, and Jasper, of course,” he listed them off, shaking his keys in time to his words. “Can you come out with me?” Xander held out his large hand.
I folded my arms. “I thought I was too sick to leave this room.”
His eyes flickered—guilt? I wondered, watching him carefully.
“That was for your safety,” he said carefully. “But you’re free now.”
But I was far from free.