Chapter Eight

Jewell looked fuzzily at the clock near her head. Six in the morning, it said, and, oddly enough, she wasn’t tempted to throw the thing against the wall. She’d finally nodded off, and sleep had done her a world of good. Instead of feeling defeated, she jumped out of bed and almost danced into her large en-suite bathroom. She even added an extra little wiggle in her hips. When she’d been at Blake’s penthouse three months ago, he had installed video cameras everywhere to monitor her actions. He might or might not have done the same thing here, but she just didn’t care. If he wanted a show, a show he would get.

When she’d last looked in the mirror, she’d felt hollow, drained. But not now. Today, she had a purpose. Blake might think he owned her, and in a way he did, but in the end she and Justin would be reunited, and the two of them would run to the farthest reaches of the planet. No one would be able to separate them again.

Sitting on the counter was a box of hair dye. She rolled her eyes. Was the billionaire too cheap to send her to the salon? She wasn’t going to let this affect her, either. She’d changed her hair to change herself, but she missed her dark tresses. It would feel good to have them back.

Her morning “process” took quite a while, but when her hair color was almost back to normal, and her face was clear of the heavy makeup she’d been too tired to take off the night before, she almost felt human again. It was time for more exploring.

After finding that the walk-in closet was crammed with clothing — a whole new wardrobe — Jewell dressed and then went back and put on minimal makeup, then stood before the full-length mirror and smiled. It was something she hadn’t done at all in the past few months.

She headed toward the kitchen, and when she reached it, the telephone rang. Odd. She couldn’t remember the last time someone had rung her up. Wait. Yes, she could. It had been Blake, three long months ago. She was sure it was him now. She ought to ignore it, but what good would that do her? So she picked up the receiver.

“Jewell?”

“Ms. Beaumont?”

“Yes, it’s me. I shouldn’t be doing this, but I have set up a consultation for you with a very good attorney. I don’t want to get your hopes up, but I promised to help you and this is my way of doing so,” McKenzie said quickly.

“I … uh … didn’t expect this,” Jewell replied. Yes, she and McKenzie had spoken a lot over the last few months when Jewell had found that she had no one else to speak to, but she’d never expected the woman to actually come through.

“I am torn, Jewell, but this I can do with a clear conscience,” McKenzie said quietly.

“Why are you torn?” Jewell asked.

“Please don’t hit me with questions right now. Just go to the appointment and know that I’m wishing you the best of luck.” McKenzie rattled off the name and address and the time, and she hung up.

Jewell stood there for a few moments and then felt herself smiling. She’d known when she woke that today would be a good day, and it was starting out in the best way possible.

“Today is going to be a good day,” she told herself out loud. All she had to do was make sure she exuded confidence. It would all be good. She left the apartment with a spring in her step. The attorney would tell her exactly what she wanted to hear — she was sure of it.

An hour later, as Jewell sat upright in the stiff leather chair and listened to the man speak, she wasn’t feeling nearly so positive.

“The court asked for a visible change in your circumstances, Ms. Weston, a sign of stability. You don’t have a positive employment history, and though you say you have money coming in, a one-time settlement won’t show Judge Malone that you are ready and able to be responsible for this child. Since you lost the last battle with the courts, you’re in an even more vulnerable position now.”

“How could the courts possibly think it would be better for my brother to be raised by strangers who don’t care about him at all?” she gasped.

“It’s not a matter of who will love your brother more. It’s very black and white, and they don’t want to see this boy bounced around for years until he ends up as yet another child in the juvenile-justice system.”

She did not like this man, not one little bit. McKenzie had said he was good, but all Jewell could see was that he was cold and he definitely wasn’t saying what she wanted to hear. “I disagree with you, Mr. Sharp. I think my brother is much better off with a sister who loves him and who will do whatever it takes to ensure his safety.”

“I’ve been doing my job for a long time, Ms. Weston, and I won’t take on a case that I’m sure to lose. I took this meeting as a favor to McKenzie, but I’m telling you now that this is a losing case.” The way he said those words wasn’t exactly cruel, but still they cut her to the bone.

Her stomach sank as she looked into his eyes, which were now almost sympathetic. That was all she needed — pity. She’d have felt better if he’d sported a sneer, because the expression he wore told her she didn’t have a chance in hell of winning this case on her own.

Dammit! That out-and-out bastard Blake Knight. He knew all of this. That’s why he’d shown so much confidence when he told her she would do whatever he wanted.

Power.

It was that word again. It was something that Blake Knight had, and something she would never attain. How she hated this constant sense of helplessness, of inevitable defeat. Wasn’t she allowed one full day of happiness? Apparently not.

“You are sure that there’s nothing else I can do, Mr. Sharp?”

She didn’t want to hear the attorney’s next words, but she braced herself for them anyway.

“I’m sorry, Ms. Weston, but at this point you don’t have a winning cause. If your life doesn’t undergo drastic change, there’s no reason for you to even try to reopen this case. Sadly, that means that your brother could very easily be swallowed up by the system.”

Once again, she heard that depressing pity.

“What do you mean by drastic?” There was nothing she wouldn’t do at this point.

“This is strictly off the record, but the courts want to see stability. They want to see two-parent households, and they want to know that household will remain intact and welcoming to the child. No more disruptions. You need a home, you need security, and you need a lot more than you are showing right now.”

Jewell fully understood what he was telling her. She’d be on solid ground if she could tell the court that she had a husband, that she was a happily married woman who would provide a stable home for her brother. They didn’t see an unemployed twenty-four-year-old who’d recently lived in a homeless shelter as someone suitable to raise a child. They didn’t care that she had graduated from a top-notch school and left a great job to take care of her ailing mother. All they cared about was where she was right at this moment.

She nearly laughed aloud at her own thoughts. Sure, it was a bitter laugh. She thought she’d already reached the point of hysteria, but as she saw the last of her hope slip away, she realized that she’d only scratched the surface of misery.

Jewell couldn’t possibly imagine a world without her brother in it. But wasn’t his happiness far more important than her own? Of course it was. And if he managed to find a family that would love him for the rest of his life, wouldn’t he be happy? Maybe. But wouldn’t he be happier with her?

Not if she couldn’t provide him with a stable environment.

“I can’t give him the home he needs, can I?” she asked Mr. Sharp. Even though this man didn’t know her, sometimes it took a stranger to tell you the truth in a way that you could actually hear it.

“That’s not what I’m saying, Ms. Weston. I don’t know you. From the look in your eyes, I can see that you love your brother very much, but love, unfortunately, isn’t always the answer, and love certainly doesn’t put food on the table or offer a roof over anyone’s head.”

“Ah, but love can turn mountains into molehills,” she replied with more than a trace of sarcasm.

“In theory,” he said with the slightest of smiles.

“What would your advice be for me to do next?”

The attorney paused for so long, she figured he was giving up on even talking to her. She was sure he wanted nothing more than for her to leave his office. But at least this man hadn’t led her on and taken her money.

He finally leaned forward and looked her in the eyes.

“If you can’t lose him, do whatever it takes.”

And those were the words she carried with her as she walked out of his office. No, he wouldn’t represent her, and she had no doubt that, no matter how many attorneys she visited, her situation wouldn’t improve.

So she was now left with a simple choice: to give up or to fight. Which was she going to do?

She made her way back to her new apartment. But it wasn’t hers, was it? Nothing was. No matter what she seemed to achieve, she kept getting kicked back down.

Stop this right now! Jewell told herself. You’re not the kind of person to think this way.

She wouldn’t drown in her own defeat. There were some calls she needed to make. And when she was done, she knew she would feel a whole heck of a lot better.

Full of purpose, she stepped into her sitting room and then drew back a step. Sipping a cup of tea while sitting elegantly on Jewell’s couch — well, Blake’s couch, to be more accurate — was Ms. Beaumont.

“Hello, Jewell. How did the visit go?”

The woman’s face didn’t tell Jewell a single thing; it was closed and almost blank. Jewell wished she could be as sophisticated as this woman. Maybe it wasn’t sophistication, though; maybe Ms. Beaumont was just a woman who had seen it all and was beyond feeling interest or excitement.

Jewell sat across from her. “I appreciate it that you set it up,” she said.

“You seem upset. It must not have gone well.” McKenzie said it as if she had known all along that the meeting wouldn’t have gone well. Then why had she put Jewell through that? Because she knew Jewell would fight to the end, that was why.

“I’m just fine,” she told Ms. Beaumont. Why not? There was nothing else the woman could do to make her feel better.

“I don’t believe that, Jewell, but I won’t pry. I understand. Besides, I value my privacy too much to invade someone else’s.”

“I’m grateful for that,” Jewell replied. Then she couldn’t take the suspense any longer. “Why are you here?” To any other person the words might have sounded positively rude, but Ms. Beaumont, Jewell knew, preferred it when people got right to the point.

“I have the first half of your payment,” Ms. Beaumont said, and held out a check.

Jewell’s heart raced, but she tried not to seem too eager to snatch the check up. “Why only half?” is what she asked instead.

“You will get the other half in thirty days.”

“And what if he’s not willing to let me go in thirty days?”

There was a very long pause, and Jewell could see that McKenzie knew more than she wanted to tell, but she also knew the woman would speak if she was given time.

“He only paid for thirty days, Jewell,” McKenzie finally said.

“That wasn’t my question,” Jewell pointed out.

McKenzie sighed before looking Jewell in the eye. “Ultimately, the choice is yours at the end of your time,” she began before giving Jewell a sad but sympathetic smile. “But, as you know, men like Blake Knight hold a lot of power, and they tend to get what they want.”

“I’m only too aware of that,” Jewell said. “He’s reminded me himself of the fact more than once. Just tell me what he’s said to you.”

“I can’t,” McKenzie said as she stood up.

“Please,” Jewell begged as the woman moved toward the front door.

She turned to Jewell with sad eyes. “This world doesn’t always give us the ending we deserve. Blake …” She stopped as she looked over Jewell’s shoulder. “You may never be free.” And then she was gone.