Sweet Retribution, page 10
Normally, dinner is served at the formal dining table, but I’ve dismissed the housekeeper, and I’ve cooked a pot roast with all the trimmings and purposely set the kitchen table. Whether she likes it or not, Elizabeth Barron needs to face up to the fact it’s her husband’s funeral tomorrow, and she must put her best face forward.
I sent Charlie a text message earlier, telling him of my plans, and I got a curt acknowledgment in reply.
Suits me if he’s still sulking. The more this goes on, the longer I get to keep him out of my bed.
Elizabeth and Lillian are seated at the table, and I’m plating our food when Charlie rushes into the kitchen, looking a little flustered. “Sorry I’m late.”
“You’re not,” I say without looking at him. “I was just about to serve up.”
He stalks toward me, producing a massive bunch of flowers from behind his back. “These are for you.” He leans down and kisses my cheek. “A peace offering for last night. I’m sorry.”
Could he be any more cliché?
“Thank you.” I peck his lips briefly, taking the flowers and placing them in the sink. “I’ll put them in a vase after we’ve eaten. I don’t want our food to go cold.” I place my hands on his chest. “Go talk with your mom and sister while I finish our plates.”
Charlie and I single-handedly keep the conversation going over dinner, and it’s awkward as fuck. We run through the plans for the ceremony tomorrow, but Elizabeth just stares blankly at us the whole time. Lil doesn’t have much of an appetite, pushing food around her plate, appearing sullen and pissed off.
After dinner, I go upstairs with Elizabeth to find something suitable for her to wear tomorrow. She crawls onto the unmade bed the instant we enter her room, and I walk into her closet alone, wondering how she’s ever going to bounce back from this.
Charles and Elizabeth lived for one another, and I don’t know if she knows how to cope without him.
I find several black dresses that will work, walking out into her bedroom with them on the hangers. “What about either of these?” I ask, holding up the two most appropriate ones.
“Whatever,” she mumbles from her place on the bed, not even looking up. She’s curled into a fetal position on top of the disheveled covers, and my heart aches for her.
I return the dresses to her closet, picking one and leaving it out for the morning. I choose matching shoes and a purse before stepping out of the closet and walking toward my fake mother-in-law. Perching on the side of her bed, I brush knotty hair back off her face, caressing her cheek with a feather-light touch. Elizabeth Barron is a beautiful woman, and she usually takes pride in her appearance. But it’s clear it’s been days since she’s showered, and she’s a bit of a hot mess with her red-rimmed eyes, puffy cheeks, and blotchy skin.
Not that I blame her.
She’s heartbroken. Taking care of herself is bottom of her list of priorities.
I lie down beside her. “I’m so sorry, Elizabeth.” I take her hands in mine. “I can’t begin to imagine how much pain you are in.”
Her bloodshot eyes lock on mine. “It’s never getting any better, is it?” she whispers.
“I haven’t lost the man I love,” I say, my heart spiking painfully as the stupid words leave my mouth, because even the thought of anything happening to Kai sends a rush of panic charging through me. My pulse throbs in my neck, and I force myself to calm down. “But I have lost my mom, and I miss her every single day.” I don’t mention the loss of my babies, because it’s still too raw, but that pain is something I carry on my shoulders all the time.
“I miss him so much.” Tears roll down her face. “And I don’t want to go on without him.” More tears cascade down her cheeks. “I know that’s selfish. That Charlie and Lillian need me, but how can I be there for them when I’m so broken on the inside?”
I’m broken on the inside too. But I’m using it to fight back. If I didn’t, I’d be a basket case in bed too. It sounds harsh when I put it like that, and I don’t mean it to be, but it speaks to our environments. I’ve had to claw, bite, and fight my way through my life since my mother passed, whereas Charles Barron worshipped the ground his wife walked on and he went out of his way to shield her and keep her safe.
But his protection has weakened her, and she needs to pull herself together, or the elite will eat her alive.
I wrap my arms around her. “You are stronger than you think. And you know Charles would want you to be strong for your children. He wouldn’t want to see you suffering like this.” I don’t really know if what I’m saying is helping or hindering, as I’ve no experience helping someone deal with their grief, but I’m trying. Sure, Drew and I leaned on one another after Mom died, but we were little kids. We just clung to one another without words, and somehow got ourselves through it.
“I don’t feel, strong, Abigail. I feel utterly weak without him.” She clutches onto me. “He was my everything. My strength. My hope. My joy. My purpose in life.” She sniffles. “I don’t know who I am without him.”
I don’t ever want to be that dependent on Kai. I want him to be all those things for me, but I don’t want to have to rely on him to the point I can’t do things for myself. I wonder if Elizabeth realized that is what was happening with her and she was happy to stay in blissful ignorance, or it just snuck up on her and she’s only realizing now that he’s gone.
Elizabeth Barron is a good woman, and she’s not unintelligent, but her husband made her vulnerable and weak.
I worry about what will become of her now she doesn’t have her husband’s protection.
An icy shiver tiptoes up my spine as I contemplate what might happen within elite circles to the widow of a founding father.
Nothing good I’m sure.
There was a time I could bank on Charlie to safeguard his mom, but I don’t know who he is anymore. Or what exact deal he has made with my father.
“You are still you, Elizabeth.” I tilt her face up to me. “And your children need you to be that strong woman tomorrow.” I press a kiss to her forehead. “You need to be strong for you, because there will be challenges ahead, and you can’t ignore them no matter how much you may want to.” I don’t want to be blunt or appear harsh, so I’m hoping my subtle insinuation will sink into her foggy brain and force her to start taking control of herself. “Can I make a suggestion?” She shrugs. “Let me run you a nice warm bath. You’ll feel a little better after. Please let me do that for you?”
I don’t expect her to agree, but she does. “Okay.”
“Just give me a few minutes, and I’ll set it up.”
I run the faucets in the tub, dropping some bath oil that I find in the cupboard over the sink into the water. I remove a couple of towels, placing them over the radiator so they are warm for her when she gets out. Then I help her into the bathroom and leave her to soak in the tub while I find a clean nightdress for her to change into and replace the covers on her bed with fresh linens.
When she emerges from the bathroom, in a cloud of steam, rubbing at her wet hair with a towel, it’s good to see her at least looking like the woman I know. Propping her up on the bed, I gently pull a comb through her hair before blow-drying it.
I’m conscious of the form lingering behind the doorway, but I don’t acknowledge him, and Elizabeth doesn’t notice her son at all. I don’t know how long he’s been there or how much he heard.
I stay with her after she’s tucked up and has taken a valium, only stepping out of the room when she’s asleep.
The door has only just closed after me when Charlie reels me into his arms. “Thank you for taking care of her.” He holds me tight. “I couldn’t do this without you. You are my strength, Abby.” He kisses the top of my head. “You make me want to be a better person,” he adds, and I smother my snort of hilarity. “A better man. To be someone worthy of you.”
What a pity he hadn’t thought about that before he got his father killed and shattered his family beyond repair.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
The funeral is every bit as horrific as I expected it to be. I insist that Charlie sits in between his mother and sister at the top pew in the church, and I’m sitting on the other side of Elizabeth. Drew is on my other side, and my father and Patrice—that emotionless bitch he’s engaged to—are sitting on the other side of him.
The church is packed to capacity, and there are people standing outside too.
Elizabeth’s quiet sobs can be heard throughout the ceremony and I bleed for her. My hands rest on top of hers in her lap, while Charlie has one arm wrapped around his mom and another around Lillian. Lil’s eyes are red, and she’s sniffling intermittingly, but she’s holding it together far better than her mother. Charlie is stoic, his face not betraying much emotion, but the strain is evident in the tense shape of his shoulders and the near-constant tick popping in his jaw.
We all breathe a sigh of relief when it’s finally over.
After the burial, at the town cemetery, in the assigned Barron plot, everyone makes their way to the local hotel, where a lavish spread has been set up in the function room upstairs.
“Hey, little sis.” Drew ambles up behind me, pulling me away from a boring conversation with neighbors of the Barron’s that I’m only half listening to. “You doing okay?”
“I’m fine. But I’ll be glad when this is all over.”
Drew glances over his shoulder, his eyes locking on our father and Patrice. They are deep in conversation with the Montgomerys and not paying attention to us. “Come to the bar with me.” Drew steers me away, over to the bar at the top of the room. He orders an old-fashioned for himself and a cranberry juice for me. “I’ve got those lists,” he says under his breath, discreetly removing a small, sealed envelope from his inside jacket pocket.
I slide the envelope into my purse, ensuring no one is looking. “Thanks. I spoke to Chad last night, and he’s in. He’s already rallying the investigative crew.”
“Good. I’ve also tentatively reached out to a few trusted board members. The two men and one woman who remember you fondly from your summer internship. I’ll meet them alone first, throw out a few feelers, and see how they respond. If it’s favorable, then we can both meet with them. These three are the most influential. If we can convince them, they will do most of the legwork for us.”
I smile at an associate of my father’s as he passes by with his new, much younger wife. “I can’t imagine Father is all that popular with the board. He’s not a very likable individual.”
“True, but he has most of these people terrorized, so we still need to proceed with caution.” He sips from his drink, his sharp gaze calculating. “Do you think you could get away Sunday night for a meeting? You’re allowed to see Xavier, right?” I nod. “So, tell Charlie you’re hanging with Xavier and meet us at the warehouse. We’ll use the back entrance and hide our cars in the woods in case he’s tracking you or has someone spying. No one will know we are there.”
I lean into Drew, pressing my mouth to his ear. “Is he well enough to go there?” I whisper, not daring to say any more.
Drew angles his head, moving his mouth to my ear. “He’s doing much better now. He’ll be there. It’s killing him being apart from you.”
My heart races and butterflies swarm my chest at the thought of seeing Kai again.
A hand slides around my waist, and I jump, spilling some of my juice on the counter. “What are you two plotting over here?” Charlie asks, narrowing his eyes at Drew in a way that clearly betrays his suspicion.
My blood pressure shoots sky high at his choice of words and the wary look on his face. My palms are suddenly sweaty, and I subtly wipe them down the front of my conservative black dress. I’m opening my mouth to throw out some frivolous lie, when my twin beats me to it.
“Just the usual.” Drew waggles his brows, sipping his whiskey. “World domination. How to eradicate poverty. How to oust Jeff Bezos from the richest man in the world position, etcetera, etcetera.”
“Don’t be glib,” Charlie drawls. “It doesn’t suit you.”
Drew’s gaze skims the room quickly before he moves in closer to Charlie. “We were discussing your predicament,” he says in a low tone.
“What predicament?” Charlie coolly replies.
“Father promised Atticus he could return to the elite and return to Rydeville. It’s happening next week. From what I hear, your mom isn’t in a good place. How do you plan to keep her quiet? She can’t go mouthing off about Atticus being responsible for your dad’s murder,” Drew says.
I jump on the bandwagon. “And it’s not like you can tell her the truth, so what are you going to do?”
All the blood drains from his face, and in this moment, I almost feel sorry for Charlie.
Almost.
“I don’t know, and I’m wondering why your father didn’t forewarn me about this.”
“He’s been too busy boning his bride-to-be,” Drew deadpans. “But I’m sure he plans to talk to you about it. I’m just giving you a heads-up. You need to have a solution. One that will appease him so he can keep Atticus on board, and one that will keep your mom’s mouth shut.”
“I’ll think of something,” Charlie says, not sounding as confident as he looks.
“What did you say to your mom?” I ask as we make the journey to Chez Manning for Sunday dinner. I’d woken this morning to the sounds of screaming and shouting coming from the vicinity of Elizabeth’s bedroom.
Charlie exhales heavily, dragging a hand through his hair. “I told her Michael had investigated and that Atticus Anderson had not given any order to shoot. That he had specifically warned his men not to fire. I explained how the guard who took the shot did so in error. And that he’s been punished for it.”
I stare at him incredulously. “You expect her to buy that pile of crap?”
“What the fuck else was I supposed to tell her?” he snaps, clearly agitated.
“Maybe you should tell her the truth.”
“You know I can’t do that! Your father would put a bullet in my skull next if I did. And then he’d go after Mom and Lil.” He glances briefly at me. “And you’d probably end up reengaged to Trent.”
I snort. “Over my dead fucking body. Besides, he’s engaged to Shandra.”
“They’ll both be here, by the way.”
Interesting. I hope I get a chance to pull Shandra aside to feel her out. I’m on the fence about her allegiances, and I wouldn’t mind discovering if she’s a friend or a foe. We have always respected one another, but I can’t say we’ve ever been overly friendly.
When we arrive at my family home, Charlie parks the car in the garage, killing the engine. “Do I need to remind you to behave?”
I turn a heated glare on him. “I’m not a fucking child, Charles. And I’m not a fucking idiot either. I know how I need to act.”
He stares at me for a few silent beats.
“What?”
“Is that what you’re doing?”
I frown as my heart starts picking up speed. “I don’t understand,” I lie.
“Is it all an act?” He points between us. “Are you just saying what you think I need to hear?”
“Give me a fucking break, Charlie. Have you forgotten what he’s done to me?” I purposely let my voice crack. “Because I haven’t,” I croak. “And I can’t take any more. I was stupid to think I could win against him, and I don’t want to fight anymore. I’m tired of it. This might not be what I wanted,” I admit, and he stiffens. “But it’s the best-case scenario for me.” I tilt my chin up, peering deep into his eyes as I lie. “I want to love you, Charlie.” I touch his cheek. “Honestly, I do, but you can’t expect miracles, and you’ve got to give me time to adjust to everything. I’m trying my hardest to keep everything together because I don’t want to let you down. But this is all new to me, and I’m still processing, and yes, I’m still forcing some of it.” I cup his face, pressing my lips to his. “But not this.” I stare deep into his eyes, unblinking. “Okay?”
He bundles me in his arms and my cheek is pressed to his chest, his heart beating frantically under my ear. “I’m sorry. I just had to ask.”
“It’s okay. It’s going to take some time for us to trust one another.”
He helps me out of the car, taking my hand as we make our way inside the house.
Everyone is congregated in the formal dining room when we arrive. Sylvia and Christian. Trent and Shandra. Patrice and my father. Drew is in conversation with an unfamiliar man and woman and a stunning girl with long dark wavy hair, whom I’m assuming is his new fiancée, Alessandra Mathers.
I’m inclined to hate her on the spot, just because of my loyalty to Jane, but it’s not fair to take it out on her.
“Aw, here are the newlyweds,” Father says, walking toward us with a fake-ass grin on his face. He pulls me into a hug, and I nearly collapse in shock. “You look beautiful, Abigail. Marriage clearly suits you,” he bellows, ensuring everyone heard him. When his hand wanders to my butt, and he squeezes, I almost throw up all over him. I have my back to the door, and everyone else is in front of us, so the only one who sees is my fake husband.
“Michael.” Charlie yanks me away from my father, and the terse tone of his voice tells me he definitely saw my father groping me. “Thanks for inviting us,” he says through gritted teeth. Drew has turned away from his conversation, watching us with a calm expression but I see the question in his eyes.
I wrap myself around Charlie, fighting a bout of intense shivers. Father has been a little handsy with me lately, and I don’t like what it implies. I’m shaking all over as the magnitude of just how much danger I’m in hits me full force. Bile builds at the back of my throat, and my stomach churns violently.
“Abby.” Shandra approaches me. “I haven’t seen you to wish you congratulations.” She leans in to kiss me on my cheek. “Are you okay?” she surreptitiously whispers, and I guess I’m doing a piss-poor job of concealing my fear.
