I blinked awake, the vibrations from my phone rousing me. The room was dark, and I glanced over at the clock to see that it was only midnight. The dream was still fresh, and I noticed sweat around my hairline. I rubbed my eyes with the heels of my hands and pushed the images away.
Leaning over the side of the bed, I grabbed my cell off the floor. I remembered it had gotten knocked down with Madoc earlier.
Madoc.
I twisted my head to the side to see he was asleep next to me. He looked so peaceful, and I lay back down to look at him.
He rested on his stomach, and the sheet was pulled down to his waist. His hair had been wet after his shower, and after all of our activity, it had dried in a mess. It stuck up in twenty different directions and made him look younger. Or maybe just more carefree than he already was. His arms hugged the pillow under his head, and I envied his slow, even breathing.
The tattoo on his back had thrown me for a loop whenever Iâd caught sight of it during the past two days. I would always immediately think it was my name. I wondered what the word âFallenâ meant, but I also knew I would never ask.
My phone buzzed in my hand, and I took a deep breath, opening up the message.
My father had called twice and texted. My mother had also called and left messages. I deleted those without even listening. I knew it would be a rant about why Iâd come here or more bullshit I didnât want to hear.
Opening my fatherâs text, I saw the two messages.
Fallon?
Do you want me to release this?
Looking over at Madoc, I knew my plan had changed. I typed out my response.
No. Send it to Caruthers instead.
You sure? he shot back.
No, I wasnât. I didnât want to do this anymore, but it was the only way Iâd feel any closure. Madoc and I didnât have a future. It wasnât love, and I wasnât going to deceive myself for even a minute longer.
Now.
Opening a new text, I sent one to Madocâs father.
Check your e-mail. Iâll meet you in your office. You have two hours.
Guys like him slept with their phones, but I knew he was probably still awake screwing his mistress.
He texted back within minutes. On my way.
â¢Â   â¢Â   â¢
âKatherine Trent.â
I dumped a folder onto Jason Caruthersâs desk and plopped myself down in the seat across from him.
He narrowed his eyes, looking hesitant, and opened the folder. His lips tightened as he sifted through the documents, receipts, and photographs. âWhy have you done this?â he asked, closing the folder with a cool calmness like he already had me handled.
I looked at Jason, looking so much like his son will in thirty years, and I hated them all over again. With his short-cropped blond hair styled better than most guys twenty years younger than him and a crisp black suit, Mr. Caruthers was still a good-looking man. No wonder my mom jumped on him even before she was divorced from her last husband. He was rich, handsome, and influential. The perfect package to a gold digger.
Although I couldnât say he was ever cruel to me, his presence intimidated me. Just like Madoc. In my skinny jeans and Green Day T-shirt, I didnât have the armor to withstand him.
Or so he thought.
âWhy do you think?â I bit back.
âMoney.â
âI donât need your money.â My words were clipped, and I wanted to burn shit when I was around this guy. âIâd take my fatherâs dirty cash before Iâd take anything from you.â
âThen what do you want?â he asked, getting up and going to the bar to pour himself a drink of something brown.
I sat up straight and looked out the window behind his desk, knowing he could hear me. âGetting up while someone is speaking is rude.â
I felt him still and waited only a moment before he was back in front of me, sitting down at his desk.
âI was going to leak what you saw in the e-mail. Paying off judgesââ
âOne judgeââ he chimed in.
âAnd the affair that youâve had going on for quite some time with Ms. Trent,â I continued. âYouâve been carrying on with her through two marriages.â
I couldnât believe it when Iâd found out. As I dug into his affairs, it wasnât a surprise that heâd been sleeping with other women. Hell, both he and my mother started to wander fairly quickly after their marriage. Madoc and I both knew. Even though he and I didnât talk much back then, I knew he saw that their marriage was a sham, just like I did. We knew the four of us were never any kind of family. Which was why we never felt solidarity.
Until the week things changed and we started sleeping together.
âWhy didnât you leak the story?â he asked.
I kept my arms resting on the chair and maintained eye contact. Caruthers could sense weakness easily. It was part of his job.
âBecause as it turns out, Iâm not a bad person,â I told him. âIt would hurt people that donât really deserve it, and Iâm not willing to do that. Yet.â
âThank you.â He looked honestly relieved, and fuck him.
âI didnât do it for you.â
He folded his hands on his table. âWhere is my son?â
âAsleep.â I smirked. âIn my bed.â
Men like Jason Caruthers rarely shout, but I knew he was angry. He had that whole close-your-eyes-and-breathe-out-slowly thing going on.
âSo what do you want from me, Fallon?â he finally asked.
âI want you to divorce my mother.â
His eyes widened, but I continued. âMake sure sheâs taken care of, of course. I donât love her, but I donât want her on the streets, either. She gets a house and some payoff cash.â
He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.
âYou donât think Iâve been trying to divorce her, Fallon? Your mother is fighting the inevitable. She doesnât want a divorce, and the attention of a long, messy legal battle would be right up her alley. Believe me, I can divorce her and not lose much doing it, either. But not without a media circus.â
âThatâs none of my concern. I donât care how you go about it or how it hurts you. If you want quick and easy, then I suggest you open your wallet wider.â
He pressed his lips together, and I could tell he was thinking. I wasnât worried. A lawyer like him canât beat his wife in court?
He cared about his reputation and nothing more. He was right. My mother would do anything to get attention, and sheâd drag him through the mud. But she had a price.
Everyone does.
âWhat else?â He raised his eyebrows, clearly not liking the terms so far.
âOne of my fatherâs associates, Ted OâRourke, is up for parole in September. See that it gets approved.â
âFallon.â He shook his head at me again. âI defend the bad guys. I have no pull with the parole board.â
I leaned in, placing my hand on his desk. âEnough with the helpless act. Donât make me ask twice.â
âIâll look into it.â He cocked his head at me. âWhat else?â
âNothing.â I gave a closemouthed smile.
âThatâs it. Your mother and Ted OâRourke. Nothing for yourself?â
Standing up, I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear and dropped my arms to my side. Putting my hands in my pockets would also be a sign of weakness.
âThis was never about me, Jason, but you made it about me, didnât you? Thatâs why you freaked when you caught Madoc and me together. You knew who my father was and what my mother was like by then, and you assumed the worst about me. You didnât want your only son playing in the dirt.â
He pinched the bridge of his nose. âFallon, you were only kids. It was too much, too fast. I always liked you.â
âI donât like you,â I shot back. âThe guilt, the sadness, the abandonment by adults that were supposed to stand by me at the very least, and everything that happened afterward was stuff I should never have gone through. Especially alone.â
He narrowed his eyes in confusion. âWhat stuff afterward?â
I lost my scowl.
Of course. Why would I have thought my mother would have told him?
I shook my head, ignoring his question. Who cared? Itâs not like he would have protected me anyway.
âThose are the pictures I have of Katherine Trent. I kept nothing digital.â
He blinked. âYouâre just letting me have them now? Thatâs not how blackmail works.â
âThis isnât blackmail,â I sneered. âIâm not like you. But I know a lot of bad people, and thatâs why I know that youâll do what Iâm asking. If you keep your word, Iâll say nothing.â
Yeah, he knew who my father was and the kind of people I knew through him. I would never have used them to hurt anyone, but he didnât know that.
He looked up and asked, âHow do I know to trust you? I donât want Katherineâs name dragged through the dirt.â
âIâve never lied to you,â I pointed out and turned to walk away.
âFallon?â he called, and I turned back to face him. âIâve known for a long time where my talents lie. And my faults.â He stood, sticking his hands in his pockets. âIâve neglected my wives, my son, and I never took much interest in anything outside of the courtroom.â His sigh was weary. âBut no matter what you think, I do love my son.â
âI believe you do.â
âWas it so bad?â His eyes narrowed, studying me. âBeing separated from him? I mean after all this time, canât you see that it was for the best? Did it really hurt so much?â
My jaw tightened, and my eyes burned.
My voice was almost a whisper. âI thought it did. At first. It hurt when I was ripped away from him without a good-bye. It hurt that I couldnât see or talk to him. It hurt when my mother didnât call me or invite me home for holidays. And it hurt when I snuck back here after a few months and found Madoc with someone else.â I straightened my shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. âBut what really hurt was being forced by my mother into that clinic, into that room, and being all alone while that machine stole his baby out of my body.â
His eyes widened, and I knew without a doubt that he hadnât known.
I nodded, my voice raspy. âYeah, thatâs the part that really sucked.â
I turned, walked out, and tried not think about the heartbroken look on Jason Caruthersâs face before he buried it in his hands.