Rival

The tattoo on his back had thrown me for a loop whenever I’d caught sight of it during the past two days. I would always immediately think it was my name. I wondered what the word “Fallen” meant, but I also knew I would never ask.

My phone buzzed in my hand, and I took a deep breath, opening up the message.

My father had called twice and texted. My mother had also called and left messages. I deleted those without even listening. I knew it would be a rant about why I’d come here or more bullshit I didn’t want to hear.

Opening my father’s text, I saw the two messages.

Fallon?

Do you want me to release this?

Looking over at Madoc, I knew my plan had changed. I typed out my response.

No. Send it to Caruthers instead.

You sure? he shot back.

No, I wasn’t. I didn’t want to do this anymore, but it was the only way I’d feel any closure. Madoc and I didn’t have a future. It wasn’t love, and I wasn’t going to deceive myself for even a minute longer.

Now.

Opening a new text, I sent one to Madoc’s father.

Check your e-mail. I’ll meet you in your office. You have two hours.

Guys like him slept with their phones, but I knew he was probably still awake screwing his mistress.

He texted back within minutes. On my way.

• • •

“Katherine Trent.”

I dumped a folder onto Jason Caruthers’s desk and plopped myself down in the seat across from him.

He narrowed his eyes, looking hesitant, and opened the folder. His lips tightened as he sifted through the documents, receipts, and photographs. “Why have you done this?” he asked, closing the folder with a cool calmness like he already had me handled.

I looked at Jason, looking so much like his son will in thirty years, and I hated them all over again. With his short-cropped blond hair styled better than most guys twenty years younger than him and a crisp black suit, Mr. Caruthers was still a good-looking man. No wonder my mom jumped on him even before she was divorced from her last husband. He was rich, handsome, and influential. The perfect package to a gold digger.

Although I couldn’t say he was ever cruel to me, his presence intimidated me. Just like Madoc. In my skinny jeans and Green Day T-shirt, I didn’t have the armor to withstand him.

Or so he thought.

“Why do you think?” I bit back.

“Money.”

“I don’t need your money.” My words were clipped, and I wanted to burn shit when I was around this guy. “I’d take my father’s dirty cash before I’d take anything from you.”

“Then what do you want?” he asked, getting up and going to the bar to pour himself a drink of something brown.

I sat up straight and looked out the window behind his desk, knowing he could hear me. “Getting up while someone is speaking is rude.”

I felt him still and waited only a moment before he was back in front of me, sitting down at his desk.

“I was going to leak what you saw in the e-mail. Paying off judges—”

“One judge—” he chimed in.

“And the affair that you’ve had going on for quite some time with Ms. Trent,” I continued. “You’ve been carrying on with her through two marriages.”

I couldn’t believe it when I’d found out. As I dug into his affairs, it wasn’t a surprise that he’d been sleeping with other women. Hell, both he and my mother started to wander fairly quickly after their marriage. Madoc and I both knew. Even though he and I didn’t talk much back then, I knew he saw that their marriage was a sham, just like I did. We knew the four of us were never any kind of family. Which was why we never felt solidarity.

Until the week things changed and we started sleeping together.

“Why didn’t you leak the story?” he asked.

Good f**king question.

I kept my arms resting on the chair and maintained eye contact. Caruthers could sense weakness easily. It was part of his job.

“Because as it turns out, I’m not a bad person,” I told him. “It would hurt people that don’t really deserve it, and I’m not willing to do that. Yet.”

“Thank you.” He looked honestly relieved, and f**k him.

“I didn’t do it for you.”

He folded his hands on his table. “Where is my son?”

“Asleep.” I smirked. “In my bed.”

Men like Jason Caruthers rarely shout, but I knew he was angry. He had that whole close-your-eyes-and-breathe-out-slowly thing going on.

“So what do you want from me, Fallon?” he finally asked.

“I want you to divorce my mother.”

His eyes widened, but I continued. “Make sure she’s taken care of, of course. I don’t love her, but I don’t want her on the streets, either. She gets a house and some payoff cash.”

He laughed bitterly, shaking his head.

“You don’t think I’ve been trying to divorce her, Fallon? Your mother is fighting the inevitable. She doesn’t want a divorce, and the attention of a long, messy legal battle would be right up her alley. Believe me, I can divorce her and not lose much doing it, either. But not without a media circus.”

Poor guy.

“That’s none of my concern. I don’t care how you go about it or how it hurts you. If you want quick and easy, then I suggest you open your wallet wider.”

He pressed his lips together, and I could tell he was thinking. I wasn’t worried. A lawyer like him can’t beat his wife in court? Please. He cared about his reputation and nothing more. He was right. My mother would do anything to get attention, and she’d drag him through the mud. But she had a price.

Everyone does.

“What else?” He raised his eyebrows, clearly not liking the terms so far.

“One of my father’s associates, Ted O’Rourke, is up for parole in September. See that it gets approved.”

“Fallon.” He shook his head at me again. “I defend the bad guys. I have no pull with the parole board.”

Who was he kidding?

I leaned in, placing my hand on his desk. “Enough with the helpless act. Don’t make me ask twice.”

“I’ll look into it.” He cocked his head at me. “What else?”

“Nothing.” I gave a closemouthed smile.

“That’s it. Your mother and Ted O’Rourke. Nothing for yourself?”

Standing up, I tucked a few strands of hair behind my ear and dropped my arms to my side. Putting my hands in my pockets would also be a sign of weakness.

“This was never about me, Jason, but you made it about me, didn’t you? That’s why you freaked when you caught Madoc and me together. You knew who my father was and what my mother was like by then, and you assumed the worst about me. You didn’t want your only son playing in the dirt.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “Fallon, you were only kids. It was too much, too fast. I always liked you.”

“I don’t like you,” I shot back. “The guilt, the sadness, the abandonment by adults that were supposed to stand by me at the very least, and everything that happened afterward was stuff I should never have gone through. Especially alone.”

He narrowed his eyes in confusion. “What stuff afterward?”

I lost my scowl. Didn’t he know?

Of course. Why would I have thought my mother would have told him?

I shook my head, ignoring his question. Who cared? It’s not like he would have protected me anyway.

“Those are the pictures I have of Katherine Trent. I kept nothing digital.”

He blinked. “You’re just letting me have them now? That’s not how blackmail works.”

“This isn’t blackmail,” I sneered. “I’m not like you. But I know a lot of bad people, and that’s why I know that you’ll do what I’m asking. If you keep your word, I’ll say nothing.”

Yeah, he knew who my father was and the kind of people I knew through him. I would never have used them to hurt anyone, but he didn’t know that.

He looked up and asked, “How do I know to trust you? I don’t want Katherine’s name dragged through the dirt.”

“I’ve never lied to you,” I pointed out and turned to walk away.

“Fallon?” he called, and I turned back to face him. “I’ve known for a long time where my talents lie. And my faults.” He stood, sticking his hands in his pockets. “I’ve neglected my wives, my son, and I never took much interest in anything outside of the courtroom.” His sigh was weary. “But no matter what you think, I do love my son.”

“I believe you do.”

“Was it so bad?” His eyes narrowed, studying me. “Being separated from him? I mean after all this time, can’t you see that it was for the best? Did it really hurt so much?”

Hurt. My jaw tightened, and my eyes burned. Did he ever love anything enough to be hurt?

My voice was almost a whisper. “I thought it did. At first. It hurt when I was ripped away from him without a good-bye. It hurt that I couldn’t see or talk to him. It hurt when my mother didn’t call me or invite me home for holidays. And it hurt when I snuck back here after a few months and found Madoc with someone else.” I straightened my shoulders and looked him dead in the eyes. “But what really hurt was being forced by my mother into that clinic, into that room, and being all alone while that machine stole his baby out of my body.”

His eyes widened, and I knew without a doubt that he hadn’t known.

I nodded, my voice raspy. “Yeah, that’s the part that really sucked.”

I turned, walked out, and tried not think about the heartbroken look on Jason Caruthers’s face before he buried it in his hands.

CHAPTER 14

MADOC

“Madoc!”

I opened my eyes, blinking away the sleep, and shot up in bed when I saw Addie staring down at me.

“Addie. What the hell?” I adjusted the sheets to make sure I was covered.

This was f**king awkward.

Like she didn’t know what was going on, anyway. I was na**d in Fallon’s bed for Christ’s sake, but still. Addie hadn’t seen me na**d since, well . . . last New Year’s when I got drunk and jumped in the freezing-ass pool on a dare from Tate.

“Where’s Fallon?” I asked, looking around.

“Honey, I don’t know what’s going on, but Fallon is gone, and your father is downstairs. He wants to talk to you now.” She nodded and gave me the crazy eyes which meant that I needed to get my ass up.

Shit. I threw off the covers, and I heard a tsk behind me as I’m sure Addie didn’t appreciate me stalking across the room buck naked.

“Where did Fallon go?” I shouted as I crossed the hallway into my room.

“I have no idea. She was gone when I got up.”

No. No. No. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head as I threw on some boxer briefs, a pair of jeans, and a T-shirt. Grabbing my socks and keys, I had no intention of dealing with my father for long.

I was going to find her and drag her back by her hair if I had to. What the f**k?

Running downstairs, I grabbed my shoes where I had dumped them near the stairs and walked into my father’s office.

“Where’s Fallon?” I demanded, plopping down in the chair opposite his desk and putting my socks and shoes on.

My father was sitting on the edge of his desk with a drink in his hand, and I did a double-take. Now I was actually a little worried. My father was controlled and responsible. If he was drinking in the morning, then . . . I don’t even know. I’ve never seen him drink in the morning. I just knew it was odd, and my father lives by his routine.

“She’s gone,” he answered.

“Where?”

“I wouldn’t know. She left of her own accord, Madoc. And you’re not going anywhere. We’ve got to talk.”