Chapter Eight
The next morning I wake up to ringing of the doorbell. My heart leaps to my throat as I pull on a pair of jeans over my panties and tank top. In the bright light of day I’m more worried about some overzealous bill collector than a hooded man. Real estate bills with arms and legs, standing as tall as a skyscraper, have invaded my dreams. I’m half expecting us to be evicted for some unknown bill before we even get to the auction.
I open the door to a bright-eyed Harper, who’s holding up two steaming cups of coffee. “Good morning, sleepyhead!”
Embarrassment burns my throat like acid. She would have already seen the overgrown state of the yard. As soon as she comes inside, she’ll see the empty rooms where furniture used to be.
Even knowing she’ll find out the truth, I can’t help my joy at seeing her. I’ve been desperately alone since I came back from college. One by one all Tanglewood friends abandoned me.
I throw my arms around her neck, surprising us both by bursting into tears. “Oh my God, I’m so sorry.”
She squeezes me back. “Oh, Avery. Tell me everything.”
Over her shoulder I spot a glossy black car with a man leaning against it, a cigarette in his mouth. He notices me looking and gives me a mock salute.
A shiver runs through me. “Let’s go inside.”
Sitting on the floor in the empty living room, sipping our soy chai lattes, I tell her about the horrible court dates, where reporters hounded us on the way up and down the marble steps. I tell her about the convictions, how my father seemed to age ten years overnight as the guilty verdicts rang out. And I tell her about the horrible night I got a phone call from the police telling me my father was in the hospital.
Harper’s brown eyes fill with tears. “Christ, Avery. How could you try and keep all this to yourself? You’re too strong for your own good.”
It all felt like a nightmare, but when I speak the words aloud, they become real. “I guess I was just taking it one day at a time. And for a while Daddy tried to keep a brave face, telling me that he’d fix everything. But they were just words. And after the attack…the doctors say he’ll never really recover.”
“You aren’t coming back to school,” she says, and it isn’t a question.
I shake my head. “There’s no way. Maybe someday in the future I can think about college again, but right now I have to focus on Daddy. He needs me.”
She looks down, fiddling with the lid of her latte. “What are you going to do for money?”
Isn’t that the million-dollar question? “I’m fine.”
“Is that your way of saying you’re totally fucked?”
In more ways than one. “I’m working on something, but I don’t have the details figured out yet.”
Her eyes spark with curiosity. “I’m going to let you off the hook—for now. Tell me what happened with Justin. You texted me that you broke up with him?”
Shame suffuses my cheeks as I remember all the times I told her how handsome he was, how perfect. “No, he broke up with me.”
She looks mystified. “But he was crazy about you.”
“Because of this whole mess. He said he wanted to be a senator one day, and he couldn’t be connected to the James family if he was going to do that.”
A gasp. “That bastard.”
I look away and swallow. “I guess I understand his point. I wouldn’t want to ruin his future.”
“You’re way too nice. He’s a dirty rat bastard.”
My cheeks burn as I share the most humiliating part. “I got the impression I was only going to be a stepping stone anyway. That he never really cared about me. I guess that’s why he was okay waiting until marriage.”
She bites her lip, looking contemplative. “I don’t know about that. He was crazy about you, but he was always pretty spineless. I’m sure Papa Justin wasn’t too pleased about the scandal.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Spineless? You never said anything.”
“I mean he looked good in a tux, but he couldn’t make up his own mind about anything. He’s probably following in his dad’s footsteps because he couldn’t think of any original career path.”
I manage a wan smile. “Well, his senatorship is safe and sound now.”
“He’ll regret it,” she says, sounding sure. “And you’re better off without him. You’ll find someone who cares about you for you—not for your family name.”
Maybe so, but how would that future man feel about how I’d lost my virginity? Even if I tried to keep it a secret, people would talk about it. They’re paying an attendance fee just to find out my identity. After the way the reporters circled my father’s court case, the entire auction might eventually be public knowledge.
I’m not just giving up my college degree or my career. I might be giving up being in love, having a family. Loneliness stretches out in front of me like a desert, Gabriel’s eyes burning like the sun.
He may not be standing outside my house, but he could ask Damon what I’m doing. And he’s the one who orchestrated my family’s fall. He’s like a puppet master, moving me faster and faster until I come apart.
“Maybe it’s better that I’m not engaged. I can’t focus on anything as long as Daddy’s sick.” He needs so much care just to stay alive. I never realized how fragile life could be until I saw all the tubes and monitors attached to his frail body. “He needs me right now.”
“Don’t you have a nurse for him?”
“We have someone who comes to check his medicine. The doctor comes once a week. That’s all I can afford.” Actually I’m running out of money for that too.
“You’ve been the one feeding him? Changing him?”
“When he’s awake enough to eat.” My stomach pitches as I remember holding in tears the last time I bathed him. It was almost worse that he was aware, feeling embarrassed that his daughter saw him naked. What choice did we have?
Compassion fills her eyes. “I would help you, but Jerk Face still controls my trust fund.”
Harper was furious when her estranged father granted her stepbrother control in his will. He said it was to keep the money safe—and secretly I thought it might be for the best. Christopher is a buzzkill, but he makes sure all her bills got paid. Harper’s a bleeding heart, incredibly nice but lacking practicality of any kind. She would hand over the two-thousand-dollar designer jacket off her back if a homeless person looked cold.
“In a few years I’ll turn twenty-two and have control. I can help you then.”
In a few years my father might be dead, but I don’t tell her that. It’s not her problem. “Don’t worry about us. Seriously, we’re fine. It’s hard right now, but it will get better.”
“Because you’re working on something.”
Nerves churn my stomach. I’m not even sure I could back out now if I wanted to. The man outside is keeping anyone from hurting me—considering I’m worth more to Damon Scott alive than dead. What would the guard do if I tried to leave? It doesn’t matter, because I can’t go anywhere with my father attached to the hospital bed.
“That’s right. Now tell me how long you’re here. I want to stay up late and talk about what you’ve been doing since I left.”