Chapter Fifteen
Brent
Brent didn’t understand. Couldn’t process any of the last ten minutes. It had been one of the best nights of his life, the happiest he’d felt since LeeAnne’s death. Jessica was so close to admitting she loved him, too, to letting her walls down. The great night, the ambiance, the lovemaking… all of it. Then, his fucking father ruined it all over again. Like he always did.
It was enough.
Dammit.
Brent was the driving force in his own life and no one else. He stormed through the dance hall, avoiding board members, paparazzi, and his friends alike. There was only one man he needed to see. He found his father schmoozing with the governor. That was the damn problem with his dad. He could turn on the charm and make himself the life of the party, a skill Brent was glad to have inherited. At the same time, he could turn that passion into ire and spite, really go after someone as he had tonight with poor Jessica.
No one really believed or understood the depths of the monster living behind his dad’s overly rehearsed smile. Not until it was too late at least.
“Son,” his father said, his smile broad and triumphant, “I was just telling Governor Forsythe about your newest film. It’s about a boxer down on his luck or was it some cowboys eating pudding? I forget about your little films.”
“It’s not the discussion I want to have right now, Dad,” Brent said. He kept his smile bright and forced, but his tone was clipped. “There are a few questions about when to do the dedication speech, so I’ll need you outside for a moment.”
“I think you’ve spent quite enough time out there, Brent, and ignoring the foundation’s guests.”
He grabbed his father tightly around the elbow and gave it enough of a covert squeeze to let the old bastard know he meant business. “Now. It’s pressing.”
His father’s eyes narrowed, but there was a flash of fear in his eyes, an understanding that dynamics were finally shifting maybe. Whatever it was and whatever was going through his brain, Brent’s father decided to oblige. “Governor, I’ll be right back. We do have to make sure things come off without a hitch.”
That was rich.
Everything had plummeted off the rails, just like his father had wanted.
Jessica was gone, his heart was cracking all over again and, fuck, poor Cara. She’d never understand if he couldn’t win Jessica back. It would crush her, be another loss his poor girl couldn’t survive. Dammit. Why did everything have to be so hard?
Because you’re a Sanderson and Dad lives to fuck things up for you.
“Well, Son, I can’t say I’m out here for a tryst either,” his father quipped as they walked out onto the balcony. The door slammed shut behind them, and Donald shook his head. “I was amused by your own.”
Brent dropped his father’s elbow finally and balled up his hands into fists at his side. “You think you’re so clever. You think you have everything always planned out to suit you.”
“I didn’t plan to get my dick sucked by a girl at my own fundraiser. What the fuck has gotten into you?”
“It’s not what it looks like. Jessica and I have been dating for over four months. We love each other…” Not that she’d quite said it yet, but she was close. “We care about each other. I don’t care about some Vanderbilt or Rockefeller or the governor’s niece or whoever you want to set me up with. A few of them haven’t even batted for the right team if you catch my drift.”
“To make an omelet, you have to break some eggs,” his father said, waving his hand dismissively.
“No,” Brent said, grabbing his father by the lapels of his tuxedo and shoving him hard against the balcony. It was only a twenty-foot drop to the ground below, and Brent would never go that far, but his father needed to understand how through he was with all the old man’s crap. “I’m done. You’re not hearing me. Cara and I care about Jessica. She is the best friend my daughter’s never had. Cara’s smiled more in the last four months than in the almost decade since her mother died. I love her.”
“I can understand why.”
Brent flared his nostrils and then shoved his father harder up against the cool iron of the rails. “We’re done. I’m through with your games and your guilt. I’m through with everything you’ve ever done to me. Cara and I are moving out – should have long ago but she adores you and after LeeAnne… I wanted her to have her family. We don’t have much. But I can see her watching how you treat people – how you use and abuse them – and that’s not the example I want my daughter to have.”
The smirk fell from his father’s face for the first time all night. Genuine alarm colored his features from his wide eyes to gasping mouth. “You can’t be serious. Some fling with a nanny is going to ruin our family?”
“No,” Brent said, finally letting go of the old bastard, “you ruined your own family. You wheedled and pushed and threatened with all your lessons. Well, lesson learned. You can’t fucking be trusted, you certainly can’t love. I’m done with you. And you’ll never see me or Cara again.”
“Son… w-wait,” his father stammered. “I built that company for you. I built all of it for Cara so she can have it, too. I just wanted to provide for you, make you strong.”
Brent couldn’t help but smile. Even if everything else was fucked up, he felt a huge weight lifting from his shoulders. He could see his father now, really see him – that frail frame, the shake in his hands, that slight palsy his father had been able to hide behind his calm façade. Donald Sanderson was sick, and he’d worked himself to a point where he no longer had any family to care, especially after all the abuse he’d doled out.
“You did make me strong, Dad. So strong that I don’t need a fucking bastard like you in my life. Now, get out of here before I have security throw you out. Cara and I will be at my penthouse from now on, and if you try and contact her.” He paused and smiled deliberately. “Well, you won’t like what I do then. After all, I’m my father’s son.”
***
“Jessica!” Brent pounded on the door. “We have to talk, please.”
He’d wanted to leave the event sooner, but the thank you speech to the donors had to be made, and then the press had ambushed him for interviews. After that, it felt like everyone in San Diego from the mayor to half his competition in business and in movies wanted to shake his hand. He’d been forced to grin and bear it for the good of earning money for the much-needed research, but by the time everything had wound down, it had been past two a.m., and he knew that going to see Jessica at that hour wouldn’t help him at all.
Brent had waited exactly about seven hours before rushing to her apartment to try and get her to hear reason, to let her know he’d kicked his father to the curb and his assistants were moving Cara into the penthouse even now.
What he didn’t expect was the pissed off redhead standing in front of him with her arms crossed defiantly over her chest, and her eyes glaring at him as if she possessed the power to set him on fire with just a look. As far as he knew, maybe she did.
“I know who you are, Brent. And I don’t care that you have more money than God or if you’re a hotshot small studio exec. I don’t even care that you’re one of San Diego’s most eligible bachelors.” She rolled her eyes. “None of that matters to me and it sure as shit doesn’t matter to Jessica. I don’t know what happened last night, but she came home in tears and won’t stop crying.”
He swallowed. It was a bit of a relief that she hadn’t said everything. Maybe it was too embarrassing for her to even tell her roommate about the horrible, degrading things his father had said. He hoped so. Brent never wanted his family to cause her so much pain. He never wanted to be the source of her pain. Ever.
Yet here they were.
“I just need to talk to her. I fixed it, and I can explain everything.”
The redhead stepped through the transom and let the door slam behind her. “I don’t think you get it, buddy. You fucked up, and you lost her. She doesn’t want to see you. I don’t want you to see her. You have no idea how badly you messed up, but it’s over, Brent. Just go away.”
“But I love her.”
She shook her head. “If this is love, I don’t want to see what happens to people you hate.”
“Something happened last night, but I fixed it, and it will never happen again.”
“It’s too late. She’s gone, and she never wants to see you again. She despises you. So leave, and please let the door hit your ass on the way out.” With that, the roommate scurried back through the door, and he heard the click of the locks and even a deadbolt behind her.
Frustrated, Brent surged forward and knocked on the door loudly and persistently. His mind wasn’t focused. It was all a mad, desperate rush to get her back. It was like he was working on instinct, an animal caught in a trap, and he needed to get relief.
Finally, Jessica’s voice, wavering and small, sounded on the other side of the door. “Brent, don’t do this.”
“If it’s my dad… I told him to go to hell. Cara and I are moving permanently into the penthouse. He’ll never be around either of you again.”
“I can’t… Brent, please, just go home.”
“Jessica, you have to hear me out.”
“I did. Twice. Now leave before I call the police, and you know you don’t need that kind of press. I just can’t do this anymore. I’m taking a break from school and getting out of San Diego. Please, if you really love me, you’ll leave me alone.”
He leaned against the door, pressing his head against the cool wood. “Please, I need you.”
“But it’s too dangerous for me to need you, for me to be near the shadier, nastier parts of your family. Please, go.”
Brent lifted his hand to knock on the door again, but then he heard a small, strangled cry on the other side. It hit him like a sledgehammer to the gut. She was in pain, and he was the one causing it now. He’d promised himself he loved her, that he’d protect her. Brent couldn’t bear to be the source of her agony.
There had to be another way to win her back.
He just had to find it.