JUST LIKE THE darkening sky indicated, a storm was brewing, and it seemed like it was doing so directly over AnaVoge as Jackson and I made our way up to the main doors a half-hour later. We hadn’t spoken much since he’d gotten the heads-up from Sydney about his father’s arrival, quickly getting ready and rushing out the door in an attempt to get there before the senior Davenport did.

Today, Jackson looked every bit the headstrong businessman in his tailored blue suit and silver tie, and if we’d been under any other circumstances, I would’ve taken a moment to enjoy the view from the front and from behind.

Jackson’s jaw was set as he opened the door for me, and he radiated a mix of calm and nervous energy, as well as something else I couldn’t put my finger on…anticipation, almost?

When we stepped inside the lobby, he grabbed my hand again, and the way he laced our fingers and pulled me close to his side as we walked over to where Astrid was already waiting for us by her desk screamed of possession. He moved with purpose, and I couldn’t help but notice that everything about Jackson was making it abundantly clear that he was not fucking around today.

And damn. I was not complaining.

As we greeted Astrid, she quickly opened the door.

“Mr. Davenport Sr. got here about five minutes ago,” she said, keeping her voice low as she led us through the back office area. “He didn’t even ask to be seen; he just went on through.”

Wow, what an aggressive dick. Not that I didn’t already know that much from my own experience with him, but for him to show up unannounced and expect to be seen? That was ballsy.

Through the glass walls of Bash’s office, it was easy to see them both now: Bash sat casually behind his desk, and I could see the profile of a man the spitting image of Jackson but with lighter, greyer hair in the chair opposite. As we approached the office, I tugged on Jackson’s arm, and he stopped to look at me.

“You go. I’ll wait out here,” I said.

“I’m not going in there without you.”

“But—”

“No.”

I knew better than to argue. If he wanted me in there, then that was where I’d be. I glanced back at Bash’s office. Freakin’ nowhere to hide. Great.

“Fine,” I said. “But you go in first. I’ll be behind you, but don’t let me distract from what needs to happen in there.”

Jackson considered it for a moment and then nodded. His shoulders lifted as he took in a deep breath. I couldn’t even imagine what was about to happen when he came face to face with his father after everything we’d learned since he’d been here. If I wanted to punch the guy and dig him an early grave, there was no telling what Jackson would do.

“You got this,” I said, squeezing his hand briefly before letting go. Jackson’s mouth turned up at the edges at my encouragement, and then he opened the office door and walked inside.

“Jackson,” Bash said, standing up and greeting him with a smile and a handshake as I hovered near the door, trying to remain unseen. Bash’s eyes briefly flickered to mine, and when I shook my head, he got the picture and looked back between the men standing at an awkward angle to each other.

“Well, would you look what the cat dragged in,” Davenport Sr. said, as he plastered the fakest smile I’d ever seen in my life on his face. He stood tall in a black suit, though Jackson had him by an inch or so, and he was still in great shape. I’d even call him attractive if I didn’t know what a complete fuckhole he was. “I was under the impression you were on vacation.”

“Sir.” Jackson gave a curt nod to his father, but didn’t say anything else.

Davenport Sr. appeared baffled. “Is that any way to greet your father after the disappearing stunt you pulled this week? Avoiding my calls. Leaving messages with my secretary. Gotta say, I’m not sure what to think, Jax.”

“I’m sure Sebastian doesn’t want to hear about any family disagreements,” Jackson said calmly.

“I wasn’t aware we were having a disagreement, but by all means.” His father gestured toward the seat beside him as he sat back down. “Let’s get on with it, shall we?”

Bash looked between the two men and smiled. “Well, well, well. Two Davenports in my office. Jackson, your father was just telling me he’d like to renegotiate.”

“Yes, well, I understand the meeting with my son did not go advantageously, so I’d like the chance to make things right. Open up the lines of communication and see if we can come to an agreement.”

“Then I suppose I should take another look,” Bash said.

“I thought you might like to,” Davenport Sr. said, throwing a smug look in Jackson’s direction as he handed Sebastian a folder. “As you can see, I’m willing to offer you considerably more than the original proposal. I’m confident that you’ll see how enthusiastic we are about your company and what we can offer you.”

Bash, never easily surprised, lifted his eyebrows and stared down at the figure in the packet, and he didn’t move again for a good two minutes. Then he closed the folder, and when he looked up again, his face was unreadable.

“Mr. Davenport, like I told Jackson last week, my company’s not on the market.”

The self-satisfied smile dropped from Davenport Sr.’s face.

“I appreciate that you say you value my company and are willing to part with such a sizable amount, but I’m afraid there’s no amount of money to make me sell. And I’m sure Jackson told you a couple of the reasons why.”

“Ah yes.” His father sniffed and lifted his chin. “Close, personal relationships and well-being of your staff, is that right?” He leaned forward. “You do know I have close, personal relationships with many of the investors you seek.”

“Meaning?”

“I’d hate to see such a promising young company flounder under its growing pains.”

Sebastian’s face remained a mask of impassivity. “Is that a threat, sir?”

Davenport Sr. tugged at his sleeves, making sure the diamond cufflinks he wore caught the light. “Of course not. I’d just highly suggest considering what would be in your best interest moving forward.”

Oh hell. That wasn’t a thinly veiled threat, and even Jackson side-eyed his father in shock.

Bash, to his credit, didn’t blink. “I see. And I’d like to take this moment to discuss the reasons why I don’t think we’re a good fit.”

“Excuse me?”

Bash held up his hand. “First, I don’t appreciate you marching in here without permission or an appointment. You disregarded my staff and disrespected my time by assuming I would drop everything for you. I find it rude. Second, I’m appalled that you would come here after I turned down Jackson’s offer. That tells me you don’t trust him to do his job. And if you don’t trust him to do his job on behalf of Davenport Worldwide, then I also question why you didn’t come down here in the first place if my company was so ‘important’ to you.”

Davenport Sr. sat in stunned silence, but Bash wasn’t finished.

“And third, that offer is an exorbitant sum of money that would be better served handling your own company affairs or donating it to charity instead of using it to flex your muscles at me.”

Holy shit. Bash was a fucking badass.

While Davenport Sr. looked ready to blow, an easy smile crossed Bash’s lips, and then his attention turned to Jackson. “Was there anything you wanted to add to that?”

Jackson nodded at Bash and said, “I think now’s as good a time as any.”

Sebastian stood and opened a side drawer, and after pulling out a folder, he tapped it against his hand and said to Jackson, his brow arched, “Should I do the honors, or…?”

“Let me,” Jackson said, smiling as he took the folder from Bash. “You see, I’ve had some time to think about things, and—” He stopped and looked over at where I was still standing by the door. “Actually, come on in, Lucas—this pertains to you, too.”

His father whipped his head around to look in my direction, and when recognition lit his features, he growled. “What the fuck is that pervert doing here?”

“Hello, Mr. Davenport,” I said, strolling forward. “I’d say it’s good to see you again, but it was a nightmare the first time around. Now’s not any better.”

“You have no business being here—”

“Actually,” Bash spoke up, “seeing as Mr. Sullivan, the pervert, here was one of AnaVoge’s first investors and owns a stake in the company, I’d say he’s more than welcome to be here for discussions pertaining to any business decisions we make. I’d also say he has a somewhat…private interest as well.”

“Yeah, I’m sure he does. I know all about his private interests. He tried to corrupt my son in school, and now he’s got his hooks in you.” Davenport Sr. shook his head in disgust.

“You’ve got that part all wrong,” Jackson said, coming to stand beside me. As he reached for my hand, a small smile played on his lips. “I was the one who corrupted him. And he’s mine, not Bash’s. Not anyone else’s.”

Jackson’s father reared back like he’d been slapped, and as he looked between the two of us, his lip curled. “What is this?”

“I’ve been offered a job here at AnaVoge and I’ve accepted. Consider this my notice,” Jackson said, and then he squeezed my hand and looked at me, a question in his eyes. Is this okay?

Was this okay? He had to be fucking kidding if he thought I’d be anything other than ecstatic about something that would anchor him here. Besides me, of course.

“But Sebastian’s offer isn’t the only thing keeping me in South Haven,” Jackson continued, and the way his hand had a death grip on mine told me the oh shit moment was about to hit. “I found out a few things while I was here. Important things. Life-altering things. And do you know what they all had in common? You. Your interference.”

Jackson took a step toward his father, but didn’t let go of my hand. “You had me followed. Watched. You pulled me away from the only man I ever loved—this man,” he said, looking back at me. “And it’s only now, years later, that I realize what you did. How could you? How could you mess with my life, take away all my decisions? I was so fucking blind, because it’s the same thing you do to these companies—you force them into submission, into doing things your way, and then you break them apart. And for what? Money and an ego trip? To be in control? Please tell me what I ever did that was so wrong you couldn’t love me the way I was.”

“The way you were?” he sneered. “You mean the way you are?”

If that reaction surprised Jackson, he didn’t let on. “I trusted you, and you lied to me. About everything. I don’t even know who you are.”

“That makes two of us,” Davenport Sr. snarled. “You think I wanted a fucking faggot for a son?”

The room went dead quiet, and I wasn’t sure who would be the one to hit him first. Bash, ever the voice of reason, made the first move, coming out from around his desk.

“I think it’s time for you to leave,” Bash said.

Davenport Sr. went to respond, but the red heels Bash wore must’ve caught his eye, because he looked down at them and then back up at Bash, with a baffled expression on his face. “What the… What kind of place are you running here? Queers ‘R’ Us?”

Bash’s patience was wearing thin, but he still had more than I did, because he managed a tight smile. “The place I’m running, as you so eloquently put it, is a multimillion-dollar business that’s the envy of every startup in the country, and it’s one you’ve been salivating over. But my company, sir, will remain just that—mine. And there’s no amount of money or threats that would make me sell it to a man like you. Now get the hell out.”

Jackson’s father stared Bash down, but then must’ve decided it wasn’t worth it to stay, and turned back to Jackson. “You can’t possibly be serious about this. I’ll give you one last chance. Come back with me now, and I’ll forget this ever happened.”

“Sorry, Mr. Davenport,” Jackson said. “I got a better offer.”

A flush creeped up Davenport Sr.’s neck. “You’re making a mistake.”

“You’re wrong,” Jackson said. “For the first time in my life, I know I’m on the right path. And it’s not yours. It’s no one else’s but mine, and you know what? It feels damn good.”

“Jax. You’re all I have left. For God’s sake, think about that. Think about the family name. If you choose to be with this…man, then how can you possibly carry that on? It’s selfish.”

“Selfish?” Jackson shook his head sadly. “I can’t believe you just said that to me. Is that all you care about? Is that all I am to you? A name?”

“A good name’s the only thing a man has. I’ve told you that.”

Jackson gripped my hand to the point of pain, but I held him back just as tightly, giving him the support he needed.

“You know, I used to look up to you. I thought because you dressed nice and made a lot of money at your job that it meant you were successful, that you were a good person who deserved it. But all you do is climb on top of the crushed bones of everyone you’ve beaten down to get to where you are. One day you’re gonna look around you and see there’s no one there, and that’s because you’re nothing but a miserable, scheming bastard. And if I didn’t hate you so much, I’d feel sorry for you.”

At Jackson’s words, Davenport Sr.’s face had turned an angry red, and his chest heaved like he was going to tackle Jackson any second, but then he uncurled his fist from his side and pointed a finger right in his son’s face. “You’re not getting another goddamn penny from me.”

“I don’t want one.”

“I mean it. You don’t come back. You’re not welcome. You’re nothing to me. Nothing.”

Jackson’s jaw clenched. “I was never anything to you anyway but a disappointment. Consider this my parting gift.”

As two huge security officers entered the room, Bash said, “If you’ll please escort Mr. Davenport—Senior—from the building—”

“That won’t be fucking necessary,” Davenport Sr. spat, but they grabbed hold of his arms as he struggled to get free. “Get off me. I said I’m leaving.”

Bash nodded at the guards to let go, and Davenport Sr. straightened his jacket. Then, like the bastard he was, he kicked his chin up and didn’t look Jackson’s way, much less mine, as he made his way out of the room and toward the lobby, the guards trailing him the whole way.

The anger and tension that had been in the room evaporated, and as Jackson’s shoulders visibly sagged with relief, I wrapped my arms around him, vowing I’d never let go.

“I’m so proud of you,” I said against his neck so only he could hear me. “I would’ve killed him.”

“I almost did. If it hadn’t been for you holding my hand…” Then Jackson lifted his head, and I was relieved to find only steely determination there instead of any sadness over what had just happened. He leaned in, and the rough kiss he planted on my lips promised many more of those to come.

“Well, I don’t know about you two,” Bash said, strutting over to the window to look outside, his cheeky self reemerging. “But I’m a little disappointed. I always thought I was the tightest ass of the bunch.”

We laughed and rolled our eyes, and then we watched as Davenport Sr. exited the building—and Jackson’s life.