Chapter 31
Adam
Sunday
I dropped Max off at his place in the wee hours of the morning before continuing home myself. On the drive back from Bowling Green, I told him all about what happened and the man who approached me at the party. At first, he thought I was overreacting, until I mentioned the detail of demanding I drop the case against Brandon and the threat against Vanessa: that seemed to hit him pretty hard.
He agreed that we needed to do something about it and planned on meeting later on in the week, but right now I wanted to get home and sleep. My stomach was all stressed and twisted up in knots, and I didn’t know what to do.
He threatened Vanessa and my Dad unless I convinced them to drop all charges against Brandon, who I knew perfectly well was guilty. When I was in law school, I always heard stories about intimidation tactics used to manipulate the court, but I never thought it could happen to me. I didn’t think Brandon would stoop so low as to make this personal.
The sun was rising as I pulled back into my complex and parked the car. I grabbed my things with a tired sigh and walked up to the door to let myself inside. When I stepped into the living room, Vanessa was roused by the sound of it and sat up blearily from where she was sleeping on the couch.
“You’re back!” she cheered happily from over the side of the couch. Her voice was all hoarse from having just woken up, and hair was all a mess, but she looked so warm and soft all I wanted to do was run to her and wrap her in my arms. I was so grateful to know that she was safe. “Did you guys have fun?”
“Yeah, we did,” I told her nervously, rubbing the back of my neck. I didn’t want to tell her about the guy or Brandon and risk scaring her, so I lied. Her sleepy smile was so hopeful I couldn’t bear to put that on her now.
She smiled walking around the kitchen to put on a pot of coffee to brew and said, “I got your flowers. Thank you so much; they’re beautiful.”
Flowers?
I glanced around confused, and she gestured to the vase of white roses on the kitchen table. I hadn’t noticed them when I came in, but now I was terrified at the prospect of where they had come from. Cautiously, I walked up to examine them and felt a sheen of sweat come over me. It was one of the few times in my adult life that I genuinely felt scared. “These arrived yesterday?” I asked her.
She nodded, sitting down on one of the barstools and resting her chin in the palm of her hand. “Yep, I came home to find them in the kitchen, a few hours after you and Max left.”
I swallowed hard, searching the stems and blossom for a card or note of any kind, but came up empty. No note, and they had been in our apartment; this isn’t good.
Our firm was just scratching the surface of Brandon’s criminal empire; we had no idea what they were capable of, or willing to do to people who crossed them. It was clearly a power play; he wanted me to know the kind of access that he had to her, and me.
Shit.
I swallowed hard, forcing a smile when I turned back to her. I didn’t have the heart to tell her that the flowers weren’t from me. I wished they had been; Vanessa deserved to have someone treat her nice like that. Brandon must have sent them with one of his goons while I was gone. They knew where I lived and had gotten into the apartment without a key.
The thought of what could have happened to Vanessa made my blood run cold. I couldn’t let that happen; I’d never forgive myself.
She wasn’t safe here.
A lump started rising in my throat as I realized the safest thing for me to do was sever ties with her completely, at least until this got taken care of. Once Brandon and his crew saw we weren't connected, maybe that would help them lose interest in her. If they couldn’t use her to hurt me, then that would make her less appealing to mess with.
I cleared my throat and prepared for what I knew was going to be one of the most difficult conversations I’d ever had. I had to end things with her and send her back to her parents’ house. She wouldn’t like that, and after everything and how close we’d become, it felt like I was not only letting her down but betraying her. “Vanessa, we need to talk.”
She cocked an eyebrow and smiled nervously. No conversation that ever started like that ends well, and she and I both knew it. “Oh?”
I cleared my throat and came toward her sheepishly, starting out by saying, “These last few months living together have been great, and I love spending time with you, but I don’t think it’s going to work out.”
Her jaw dropped slightly as she stared at me in shock. I could see the hurt and confusion in her eyes, this declaration coming out of nowhere. She blinked, processing that information. “What do you mean?”
I sighed, wishing there was some way I could make this easier. I cared about her so much, and it was killing me to break her heart. “I mean, it’s time for you to move out,” I responded flatly.
“I’m sorry, I’m just still a little confused. Did I do something wrong?”
“Not at all,” I told her. “I wanted this to work, but it isn’t, and we got to move on.”
Her lip quivered as she fought to hold back tears. I could only imagine the hurt and confusion she must have been feeling as the world came crashing down.
“I thought we were getting along fine,” she argued stubbornly. “This doesn’t make any sense to me; the other day you were all snuggles and wanting sex, we slept together in the same bed for crying out loud, and now it’s over just like that? What happened to being able to stay here for as long as I needed until I got on my own two feet?”
“Things have changed.”
“Could you explain that to me?” she shouted. “I don’t think it’s fair that you can make a blanket decision like that without talking to me.”
My cheeks grew hot with anger, not at her, but at the situation that was completely out of my control. “It’s something I’ve been thinking about for a while. I don’t care if it doesn’t seem fair to you, but I have to do what’s right here.”
“And that means kicking me out of your apartment?”
“Yes.”
“You know, Adam, you invited me to live here in the first place. If you didn’t think it was a good idea, then maybe you should have thought about that before I showed up with all my stuff.”
“Then I guess I’ll know that for next time.”
She huffed jumping down from the chair she was sitting in a glared at me angrily. “Well, that’s fine – if you don’t want me living here anymore, then fine, consider me gone. I’ll pack up my things and be out of your hair by dinner.”
“Vanessa…”
“You know what’s really sad?” she started icily. “I really liked you. I thought we could turn into something special. I was an idiot for trusting you.”
She stormed off into her bedroom and slammed the door behind her. I could hear her crying from the other side. I felt terrible. Nothing about this was what I wanted. I enjoyed being with her, but I had to do what’s best for her – I had to keep her safe.
If she thought I was protecting her, she’d try to logic me out of it. I’d fold like a house of cards because, let’s face it, I didn’t want her leaving in the first place. I had to be convincing so that she doesn’t come back. I could be the bad guy. I’d do that for her. If it meant keeping Vanessa safe, then I could live with knowing she would hate me.
Over the next few hours, she packed her things and brought them out into the living room before loading them in her car. As much as I wanted to, I didn’t speak to her out of fear that I would be making the situation worse. There were so many things she didn’t understand, and I couldn’t explain them to her. All she knew was I was being a total jerk and pulling out of every promise I ever made her.
I figured the best thing I could do was give her privacy and the space she needed: let her hate me for a while.
Good. The farther she stayed away from me, the less likely she was to be put in danger again. As long as Brandon thought we were together, he’d keep sending people. How long would it be before things escalated and she got hurt because of me? I couldn’t let that happen.
When I thought about the other night and holding her as we slept in the same bed, it made me almost cry. All I wanted was to hold her and protect her, from this and anything else that came our way. If there was any way that I could shield her from Brandon’s retaliation, I would have happily done so, but I didn’t know what else to do. A clean break was the safest thing for her, so I had to be an adult and do what’s best. She’d become part of me, and now that she was leaving it was like that was being taken away from me, as well.
She put her key on the kitchen counter and slammed the door behind her on the way out. As it echoed through the apartment, it felt like something inside me died. When I heard her car starting up in the parking lot, I grit my teeth together with rage. I was so angry this was happening. I hated that this guy was able to get under my skin like that and take her away from me. He was ruining everything.
I grabbed the vase of flowers off the table and threw them against the wall, smashing them into a thousand pieces. It exploded against the paint with a satisfying crash, but it didn’t relieve the ache that I was feeling. Water and shards of glass splattered all across the floor with the green stems and white roses landing chaotically in the mess.
I breathed out a huff of exasperation and balled my hands into fists and set them on the table. The apartment would feel so empty and quiet without Vanessa living here; it made me want to scream. I would make Brandon pay for this; he shouldn’t have made this personal.
Now I had a personal vendetta against him, and I would not rest until I saw his smirking, arrogant face locked up behind bars.