Truth (Scandals of Banner-Hill Book 1) Page 21

  “Request noted,” I tell him. “Can I go back to bed now?”

  One of Murphy’s signature silences stretches across the line. I roll my eyes toward the ceiling but resist the urge to hang-up. Somehow, I doubt I’d get away so easily with that move a second time.

  “You can go back to your own bed. Sure,” Murphy says finally.

  “I’m just fine here, thanks.”

  “I believe you’ll rethink your decision when you hear why else I’ve called.”

  I glance up at Logan, a bad feeling already in my gut. Murphy is waiting for me to ask him what else there is, but I wait him out until he offers the information up on his own.

  “Your bed buddy leaked a picture of you wandering off alone with a member of the staff. The media is having a field day talking about it. Apparently he’s got a history of sex scandals? Ring any bells?” Murphy snorts out a laugh that makes me wish he was here so I could punch him right in the face.

  All the work I put into keeping Nick’s hands clean while taking care of the money and my father, and it was Logan who threw him under the bus.

  “I need you to take care of that,” I say carefully, keeping my voice even. If Murphy hears me panic, this will become a bargaining chip I can’t afford.

  Logan’s frown deepens as he watches me closely. I’m sure he’s not getting much out of only hearing my side of the conversation. He can see my body language, though, and I’m suddenly tense as hell.

  “Oh, trust me, I came bearing solutions, not problems. I’ve already ensured his position at Banner-Hill is safe. The gossip, I’m afraid, I can’t do much about. It should blow over with the next news cycle.” Murphy laughs under his breath. “And it’s not like anyone’s surprised by you being seen with a forbidden boyfriend. It probably wouldn’t have made much of a blip at all if the sweet little pastor’s wife hadn’t decided to make a statement.”

  My uncle’s unimpressed snort tells me exactly how bad the statement must be.

  Maybe the most surprising thing is that Murphy manages to sound completely void of jealousy over having me connected publicly with Nick. Either he considers him a non-threat, or his desire to keep me away from Killian and Logan isn’t as creepy as I initially assumed.

  Either way, I grumble out a, “Thank you,” to my uncle for protecting Nick’s job. At least it’s something.

  “I’ve got your back, kid. That’s what family does.” His voice is a little too gleeful. I have a feeling he really says it to savor the fact that I actually betrayed my own father. I’m sure he had his doubts until now.

  Now if only he could leave me the hell alone and mind his own business. After all, his beef with my father was that Ken Adams tried to steal his family business out from under him by using my mother as a pawn. You would really think illegal business dealings would take up too much time for the man to worry himself with the whims of his niece.

  This time I let Murphy hang up first. I’m too busy trying to reel in the renewed anger I’m feeling.

  “Who was that?” Logan asks as I swing my legs off the bed. He tries to reach for me as I move past him, but I shrug away from his touch.

  “Here,” I mutter, shoving the phone at Jack’s chest.

  “Where are you going?” Logan starts to follow me out, but I pause and whirl on him, shoving him hard in the chest. He doesn’t budge, but it makes me feel better just the same.

  “I’m going to clean up yet another mess I didn’t make. So thanks a-fucking-lot for that.” I attempt one last shove for good measure. Logan has the good sense to step back, pulling some of the wind out of my sails.

  That just makes me even more angry.

  I stomp out with Jack on my heels but Logan doesn’t follow. After a few seconds, I hear the door slam shut. We’re making an awful lot of noise for the middle of the night, but I can’t bring myself to care. I did what I initially came here to do, and now I need to start working on my exit plan.

  I start toward the staircase, but Jack grabs me by the back of the shirt just before I turn out of the hall. I flash him murderous eyes that make him let go instantly.

  Some people may get away with that shit with me, but Jack isn’t one of them.

  “Sorry for interrupting. Your uncle can be awfully persistent.” He smirks when he says the word uncle as if he thinks I’ve lied about that for some reason. “I could make it up to you,” he adds, his voice lowering to what I assume is supposed to be his bedroom voice.

  Gag me.

  “Pass.”

  I make it a few steps away from him before he grabs me again—this time around the waist. He pulls me back against him, rubbing a distinct hard-on against my ass.

  That only ups the ick factor.

  I tuck my chin and then slam my head back as hard as I can. I don’t quite reach his nose, but I do land a solid hit to his chin. He curses as he releases me.

  Apparently, Jack Lunsford does not know when to quit.

  A third time, I try to walk away, and he grabs me. He’s officially lost whatever protection my uncle might have offered him. I will fucking end him. He slides in front of me, his disgusting dick bulging against the front of his pants. I put my hand out between us to keep from letting him rub that thing against me again.

  “Oh, c’mon. Everyone’s heard you’re easy.” He slides his hand down my thigh, and I officially reach the cap on my patience.

  I bring my knee up hard between his legs the way I did when Logan cornered me that first day. Jack crumples the same way, too. I lean down and speak sweetly into his ear.

  “You heard wrong, Lunsford. Nothing about me is easy. And if you come anywhere near me again, I’ll make sure the next time your balls take enough damage that you don’t ever give your parents the hopelessly inbred heir I’m sure they’re hoping for.” I tap my finger to my chin and pretend to get lost in thought. “But hey, you could always leave the family fortune to a women’s shelter when the autoerotic asphyxiation finally takes you.”

  I bat my eyelashes at him as he stays hunched over with his face bright red from a mix of embarrassment and pain.

  For good measure, I pry the phone out of his hand and send a quick message. I’m sure Murphy will be very interested to know what Jack thinks his job perks should be.

  He holds his hand out for the phone when I’m done with it, but I drop it by his feet instead.

  I’m not sure what gave this guy the impression he had a free pass to fuck with me, but I’m pretty sure he’s learned his lesson now. If he doesn’t learn it from me—or Murphy even—then maybe Arlo would make another house call for me.

  This time, Jack doesn’t try to stop me when I walk away.

  I listen to the door open without letting out so much as a breath. The light flicks on, and Nick nearly jumps out of his skin.

  “Jesus, Natalie. What the hell?” He frowns down at where I’m sitting on the floor against the wall. I’ve been trying not to think too hard about the fact that in my mind, this is Killian’s pose. I don’t want to be thinking of him right now.

  “Sorry to scare you,” I tell Nick. “But I got a call that things were blowing up for you out there. Are you okay? Are the paparazzi bothering you?”

  He shuts the door carefully behind him and walks toward me. I’m sure I look a mess with uncombed hair, still dressed in the clothes I slept in. After I ditched Jack’s ass, I came down here to hide out and wait for Nick to arrive for his shift. I’ve been sitting in the dark for hours turning everything that has happened over in my head.

  I couldn’t risk being photographed around Nick again until I talked to him about all of this. So I’ve been waiting here, hoping he would actually show up.

  I notice the dark spots under Nick’s eyes as he regards me carefully. I watch as he struggles to choose his words.

  Finally, he says, “I’m fine, really. The whole thing took me by surprise, but honestly, more people are taking my side than I would have expected. Turns out Andrea Lewis has a bit of a reputation. Now she’s getti
ng dragged to pieces in my hometown.” He pauses again before asking, “Did you know your uncle showed up to see me?”

  “No.” Of fucking course he did.

  “He tried fishing to see what I knew, but I haven’t gotten the impression from you that I should tell him anything, so I didn’t.”

  “Good.” Some of the anxiety in my chest lessens. Nick’s playing it safe, and he doesn’t seem to be furious at me for having embroiled him in the exact kind of scandal he ran away from before.

  Nick offers me his hand to help me up. When I stand, he stays where he is, our chests brushing in the close proximity. He’s freshly showered, his hair still damp and his scent lingers heavily in the air.

  “The whole thing was weird, Natalie.” Nick shakes his head slightly. “He said he understood the appeal. I thought he meant the appeal of a younger woman, but then he just kept talking about you. Like an obsession.”

  Awesome. Just what I need right now.

  “It’s become a bit of a problem,” I admit out loud for the first time.

  Murphy is growing increasingly bold. All the things I thought I could overlook have now grown too troublesome to ignore any longer. Apparently, all the prison time has really confused him about which women are off-limits. Blood relations being at the top of the list.

  “I expected you to be a little more concerned,” Nick admits. “This has been going on already? He’s been bothering you?”

  He’s smart enough to not give me some macho comment about taking care of Murphy for me. I’m sure he realizes that would go over like a cement block.

  “If I was concerned every time a man bothered me, I don’t think I could survive going out in public. I’d have to buy a house in the mountains and have my groceries delivered. This is my life, Nick. Men see me a certain way because of Adams Ever After, and they think that gives them a right to act on it. My uncle has his moments, but he’s been relatively harmless in the grand scheme of things.”

  Nick’s blue eyes seem cloudy as he digests my words, as if he’s having a hard time taking it all in.

  He tilts his head at me. “You know I’m not one of those men, right?”

  “Yeah.” I roll my eyes at him. This is already getting too mushy for my liking. My sense of self-preservation is kicking me into flight or fight mode. I can feel my muscles tensing, wanting to run away before this gets any more serious.

  This is really incredibly bad timing. I can still clearly picture how it felt to have Jack rubbing his crotch all over me just a few hours ago. Not exactly the mood I think Nick’s going for here.

  Still, I can already tell that he can’t let this go. Now that the media has put the suggestion out there, he’s picturing it for himself. I can practically see into his mind now. He’s probably imagining us doing a whole slew of normal couple things I can’t actually do unless there’s a camera crew filming from every angle.

  I still have to finish my contract for this season. I can’t afford the buyout clause, which really seems like an oversight by my lawyer. Though maybe less so when I remember it was my father who chose the lawyer for me.

  My silence seems to make him nervous. He tucks his hands into the pockets of his joggers.

  “There is something between us, isn’t there?” Nick searches my eyes for an answer. “You could have written me out of everything you’ve been doing since the beginning. I wasn’t that nice to you; you weren’t obligated to protect me.”

  How easy it would be for any normal woman to say yes. But I’m not normal, and I’m still carrying out a vendetta that threatens to swallow everything around me whole.

  Could he survive that? Would it be fair to ask him to?

  And what if he’s only confusing gratitude for attraction?

  “Do you have any idea what that would be like? Everything I do is painfully public. Everywhere you turned, people would question how you got there with me. Whether you deserved to be there. They would ask about your past over and over again. And even if you never tell them anything, they’ll twist the stories into whatever they want anyway.”

  He winces. That’s answer enough for me.

  “I should go. I just wanted to make sure you would be okay.” I step away from him, needing distance between us.

  “Why did you come onto me the first day if you didn’t actually intend to do anything about it?” His feelings are hurt, I can hear it all too clearly in his voice.

  I hate that it instantly makes me analyze his weaknesses. I envy anyone that can live in a world where emotion doesn’t have to be a character flaw.

  Even with my father out of the way, the old lessons linger.

  I don’t think Nick Barnes would survive my world. Which means I don’t think he could survive me. Because no matter how much I keep trying to claw myself out, it seems like my bed has already been made for me.

  19

  Lynne sits across from me, another sweater. Another too-bright lipstick that she somehow makes work. I’m sure she called me in today because of the news about Nick. She’s mostly left me alone since the group therapy snafu with Killian.

  Despite my problems with this place, I don’t think therapists hope to traumatize their patients on the regular.

  They don’t need to—Kevin Banner is doing it for them.

  I look away from her to stare at the wall. She has pictures hanging over her desk. Vacation shots. A couple of her with celebrities. None of that really catches my attention. I’m drawn instead to the bare spot in the center of the display. It’s obvious there was another picture there at some point. The paint on the wall is slightly discolored from where it obviously hung.

  “Someone make you mad?” I ask.

  She turns her head to follow my gaze. Her breathing hitches as she realizes what caught my eye. It’s a more dramatic reaction than I was anticipating.

  “Natalie, I’d like to be candid with you.” Lynne stands and goes to unlock one of her desk drawers. She takes out a frame that matches the set and a thin file folder. She hands them to me before taking a seat again.

  I study the photograph. It’s Lynne with a little mini-Lynne. She’s probably a pre-teen in this picture, and the photo can’t be too old since Lynne looks like she hasn’t aged at all.

  “That’s my daughter, Eden.” Lynne worries her hands in her lap. She’s full of nervous energy, and I can tell she’s not just sharing for the hell of it. “And that,” she gestures to the folder, “is the therapy notes from when you were seventeen.”

  I stare dumbfounded at her.

  “Why weren’t these in my file?” I ask, flipping it open to see that they are, in fact, my missing notes. I spare a quick glance at the first page before closing the folder again. I’m pretty sure I’m better off waiting to look through these alone.

  Lynne glances at the bare spot on the wall and then back to me. I’m a smart woman, I can connect the dots.

  “Who threatened your daughter?” I ask.

  She seems reluctant to say, but I guess she already made up her mind to tell me She leans forward slightly as if I might need comforting when she tells me, “It was your father.”

  A laugh bursts out of me. “Of course it was.”

  “You knew?” Her hands still.

  “Oh god, no. It’s just exactly the kind of thing he would do. Let me guess, he tried offering you money first? You declined, so he went straight to blackmail?”

  She nods.

  “Why did he only want these hidden? Why not just say my whole file had mysteriously vanished?” That probably would have been easier to accomplish. More suspicious maybe, though.

  “Something about not reminding you of hard times? He wasn’t particularly forthcoming with the details. He just wanted to make sure I wouldn’t speak to you about anything that happened that year in particular.”

  That makes my eyebrows raise. “You did, though. You brought up Dash in group.”

  “Right.” She starts fussing with her hands again. I give a pointed look from her eyes to her hand
s until she settles them. Her nervous energy is making me nervous, too.

  “I felt guilty,” she admits. “I guess I hoped maybe if I just ripped the bandaid off, whatever was being hidden would come to light on its own. Most of your therapy notes back then were about the boys you hung around with and some concerns about whether the relationships were healthy. It was the only thing I could see that your father might not be too keen to have you talking about.”

  Of course. He thought of everything.

  My father couldn’t have Lynne asking too many questions about that year because he didn’t want anything to jog my memory. It definitely wasn’t about protecting me, and Lynne seemed to get that vibe too.

  I can’t even be mad at her for caving to him, not with her daughter on the line. It must be nice to have a mother like Lynne. Someone who actually cares about protecting their child.

  My mother only ever cared about protecting herself. Otherwise, she might not have abandoned me when I was lying in bed screaming every night. I thought it was overwhelming grief. Meanwhile my father was sitting in his office patting himself on the back for traumatizing me just enough to blind me to what he’d done.

  No, Lynne’s sins pale in comparison.

  “Here.” I hand back to her the picture of her daughter.

  She exchanges it for a single sheet of paper I hadn’t noticed on the side table next to her seat. I hand it right back to her when I see what it is. A form to file a formal complaint against a member of the Banner-Hill staff.

  “I know these forms are sort of a joke amongst the patients. But I thought at the very least maybe it could be symbolic. I should never have put myself in a position to abuse the trust of a patient. I’d like to make it up to you in whatever way makes you most comfortable. I can resign? Make a formal public apology?”

  “That’s really not necessary.” I stand, taking the missing bits of my file with me.

  “Please, I need to do something. The guilt has been plaguing me for weeks.” The way she looks up at me with desperation makes my heart hurt for her a little bit.