Chapter 22 Jinx The voice sounded youthful. It belonged to a woman -a furious young woman.
Deirdre could feel her heart shrinking in dread. âWho are you?â
âWho am I? Who am I?!â Eva Heinemann gaged as she sized Deirdre up with unreserved contempt.
âSterling is doomed because of you! Because of a stupid, irritating blind woman like you!â
Deirdreâs hands closed around the fabric of her own dress. âWhat happened to Sterry?â
âWhat happened? Ha! Do you know how much Sterling has sacrificed to protect you? They took his picture â the media took his picture and spread it all over the internet, and now heâs doxxed! The internet is canceling him! Do you know how big of a deal this is to a doctor? Saving and curing people is literally his job! And now, thanks to you, he canât ever work in a public hospital again!
âAnd that Brendan Brighthall-he led the charge to cancel the Fuller family! Do you know that? Any deal his business ventures made that was even remotely connected to the Fullers has been automatically voided, but oh, there is more! He threatened everyone â literally anyone-out of working with the Fullers. Failure to comply automatically means they are going against him, the most powerful man in the city!
âDo you get it yet? Do you understand that you, Deirdre McKinnon, are the reason sh*t hit the fan?!
You jinxed him-you jinxed your own hero the moment he protected you to make sure you stayed out of the picture! Youâre a f* cking catastrophe!â
Deirdre felt her heart sinking into an icy abyss in her stomach. Her feet felt like lead.
âWhereâs⦠Whereâs Sterry? I want to see him!â
âHell, no!â Eva snarled, her teeth bared. âYou might kill him just by showing your sh*t-attracting face one more time! Who the hell is gonna take that chance? Besides, you canât even if you want to. His family took him away after this entire scandal, and thatâs not even a good thing for him. Heâs the bastard child of the family; what reason does his family have to even protect him instead of, I donât know, grill him over this?!â
Deirdreâs fingers were trembling, and her eyes were red.
Even Evaâs voice broke. âI⦠Iâm begging you, Deirdre ⦠I donât know how the hell you managed to piss Brighthall. off, but Iâm begging you: Make this go away! Settle whatever this is between the two of you and make Brighthall stop canceling the Fullers! Youâre ruining his life, Deirdre! Doesnât that mean anything to you?!â
Deirdre let out a pained breath. Of course it meant something to her. She had never wanted to⦠God, she really was a walking jinx. She cursed everyone who was close to her. Her mother had been first, and now Sterling too.
âIâm sorry,â she said under her breath, her head low. She clenched her fists so hard her fingernails turned ruddy. She then lifted her head again and stared ahead, her eyes as liseless as ever. âI caused this, so I⦠Iâll end this. Iâll tell Brendan to stop, donât worry.â
It was all Eva wanted to hear, so she turned and walked away.
Deirdre stared at her phone. Her fingers flew on the number pad, typing a string of numbers she had memorized and could no longer forget.
The call was connected. âItâs me,â she said. Every word she spoke summoned a wave of agony, as if every sound she made felt like lodging a knife in her throat. âWhat do you want from me in exchange for leaving Sterling out of this?â
Brendan snickered. He sounded pleased with himself.
âGo to the Brighthall Group building.â
He hung up the call, and Deirdre put her phone away. She hailed a ride to the building, armed with only her walking stick, and made her way to the entrance before being immediately shoved away by security. âGo away. This ainât a food canteen, hobo. You donât deserve to even be here!â
Her ruined face seemed to have elicited the guardâs instinctive revulsion.
Deirdre could feel the pain flaring from her palms from grazing against the asphalt. She found her walking stick and got to her feet again. âI have an appointment. Ask Mr. Brighthall if you donât believe me.â
The guard did not look convinced. Just then, the receptionist came out of the building, scanned Deirdre in surprise, and told the guard, âSheâs a guest. Let her in.â
To the guardâs bewilderment, the receptionist proceeded to help Deirdre walk. âWhat the hell?â he wondered aloud. âIs Mr. Brighthall doing charity work now? Sheâs butt-f*cking ugly! Just looking at her gives me cooties. Why would someone like him even want her in his office He trailed off. The receptionist might have shot him a look.
The warning was unnecessary, though. Deirdre had already grown accustomed to comments like these.
The receptionist led her to the elevator. While Deirdre showed no sign of anxiety or panic, the former sniped a few glances at her. Mr. Brighthallâs guest was an interesting character. While her face was so scarred and damaged that anyone would lose their appetite when they looked at it, there was also a regal, composed air about her, as though she had been through a lot and had grown much, much wiser. Miss McKinney, in comparison, had none of this self-assured elegance.
âThis door leads to Mr. Brighthallâs office, miss. Heâs inside,â the receptionist said, taking her leave.
âYou may go alone.â
âI see. Thank you.â
The receptionist handed Deirdreâs suitcase to her and left.
The young woman mustered every ounce of courage and mettle she had and knocked.
âCome in,â came the answer.