Chapter Twenty-six
Cole
Madison had gone to see her mother today. She was nervous about something, I knew her well enough to recognize the signs. The smoothing and re-smoothing of her skirt, the pale tinge to her cheeks.
She hadn’t said much about the visit before leaving. I tried not to think about the reasons for that. Either she was genuinely anxious about seeing her mother. Or she was reporting back about what I was doing here. Maybe even had copies of my plans.
I almost laughed at the ridiculousness of the situation. Thinking Madison was some corporate spy, using her beauty and brains to outwit me. But there was no humor in the truth if it was reality. In fact, the truth had the potential to really fucking suck.
“Shit!” I hammered my fist on the kitchen counter.
“What was that?” Jess appeared at her door.
“Nothing.” I struggled to find a smile and utterly failed.
“You okay?” My sister looked at me sharply.
“Of course.” This time, I managed to form my lips into the shape I wanted. “How about we go for a walk? I’ll buy you breakfast and you can show me this coffee shop Madison’s always talking about?”
“There’s a café around the corner that’s just as good.” Jess threw me a sour look. “I only go further because Madison is so nice.”
“And I’m not?” I pretended to be wounded at being painted as the bad guy. Oh. That’s right. I wasn’t pretending.
“You’re my brother. I don’t think it counts.” Jess looked at her watch, unnoticing—or uncaring—that I was actually hurt. “I’m meeting with Tash in an hour, so I can’t do breakfast. Maybe a late lunch?”
“Sure.” My words fell into an empty room. Jess had already left.
I sank onto the couch, wondering how in hell I’d gotten to a place where my own sister thought I was that horrible. Oh yeah. She’d had an accident and our mother had died, leaving me to deal with shit I knew nothing about.
I rubbed at my brow, my neck aching from muscles held too tight. I didn’t blame my mother. She’d played it right from the start. After their deadbeat Langford father had left, she’d never approached the rich side of the family for help or support. My mother had known the score. She knew which side of the tracks she’d come from.
I had been seduced by the lure of money. When my generous uncle had turned up, offering me the chance to rub shoulders with the rich and famous, I’d jumped at the opportunity. I’d seen how the other half lived and I’d wanted it. Badly.
The cost had been high, but it was too late by then. No one would listen to my side of the story. I’d rolled over and let myself be shafted. And the repercussions of my weakness haunted me every day.
When Jess had lain in the hospital, I knew the Langford money would buy her a full and unaffected life. The fact my grandfather had refused because of what I’d supposedly done at school was something I could never forgive.
I struggled to my feet, my throat tight, as if I couldn’t fill my lungs with enough air. From what I knew of Patricia St. James, she was as ruthless as Russell and Thomas had ever been. Madison didn’t appear to be like them, but then, appearances were seldom what they seemed. She had the face of an angel. It remained to be seen whether her soul belonged to the devil.
I paced the room, my life hanging in the balance as I waited to find out.
One hour.
Two hours.
Three…four…five…
My head jacked up as the key turned in the lock.
I knew the truth as soon as I saw her.
She looked like she’d gone to hell and back. Her hair was unbound and tangled, as if her fingers had combed through it more than once, her eyes clouded with the heartache of painful secrets.
My chest clenched tight, then loosened as I took the first proper breath since I’d seen Patricia’s name on that damn computer screen. It took a moment to process my relief, the incredible lightness sweeping me off my feet to carry me to her, the crushing need to touch her. Console her. Make everything right. I wanted to scoop her up in my arms and kiss her, to take away the pain and uncertainty and replace it with everything good we had between us.
“Oh God. Cole. I’m so sorry.” Madison pulled away as if my touch hurt. “What have I done?”
“Tell me.”
I guided her to the couch and she sat down, burying her head in her hands. When she raised her face, it was pinched white, her eyes wet with tears. Her expression tore at my heart, but I stayed quiet. I needed to hear what had happened from her own lips.
“My Mother. Your own uncle.” She shook her head, disbelief coloring her words. “They are trying to shut down your development. My mother has promised to help him unless I walked away from you.” Horror leached into her face. “I should have done it.” Her words gathered speed. “I should have told her I’d move back home. God, I’m so selfish. But I couldn’t bear to live out some lie for the rest of my life. I couldn’t stand to see her win. I’m sorry, Cole. I’m so sorry.”
I listened to her out-pouring of grief and apologies and self-recrimination. I captured each expression and held it close, like a cherished thing, denouncing her guilt.
It took me a moment to realize she’d stopped talking. Her hands clenched and unclenched as she stared at me, her body filled with tension as if she waited for my blows to rain down.
“Aren’t you going to say something?” she demanded.
I couldn’t meet the tortured look on her face. She hadn’t known a thing.
“Madison. I’m sorry.” I started toward her, finally allowing myself to offer her comfort.
She cut me off with a sharp gasp, disbelief etched on her face.
“Oh my god. You knew?” Madison recoiled from me. “I don’t understand. Why d-didn’t you tell me?” She struggled to ask the question and I didn’t want to tell her the answer. I saw it transform her as comprehension dawned. “You thought I was part of it.” Hurt flattened her voice.
“I wasn’t sure,” I admitted, rubbing at my neck. I hated to see her wounded expression. Those beautiful eyes wide open in shock. But what else could I have done? Madison was one of them. I had every right to be suspicious. “You should be pleased I didn’t warn you.” I tried to ease the guilt sitting like acid in my gut. “If I’d said something, you would’ve handled your mother differently. Instead, you stood up to her.”
I wanted Madison to understand how proud I was of her, how amazing I found her strength, but her gaze hardened, hurt becoming anger.
“Because you thought my mother and I were hatching some evil plot against you.”
I rubbed at my chest. “Yes. No…not really,” I muttered. “I had to be sure.”
I could see her visibly swallow back a retort.
Fuck it. It shouldn’t matter if I hurt her feelings, but now, in the cold light of day, I could see how it must look. Madison had been nothing but open and honest and trusting. I shoved aside the first pangs of self-loathing, telling myself she hadn’t lived the life I had. This was Madison’s first glimpse into the shitty truth behind her privileged upbringing. Reality was harsh, yes, and Madison didn’t deserve to find out this way, but I was just doing what I’d always done.
Protecting myself. Protecting Jess.
“I can help you.” I moved forward, seeing Madison as being within my inner circle now. Perhaps there was even a place for her in my future.
She shut her eyes, closing off her expression to me.
I stopped. Trust had meant more to Madison than I’d considered. But she’d come around. I was certain of that. Being on the outside was a lonely place. She would need me.
She opened her eyes again and the tightness in my chest eased. In front of me stood the Madison I remembered from the first night we met. Proud. Determined. Sexy-as-hell. She’d turned those liquid brown eyes on me and melted everything in her path. Including me.
“Help me?” She started forward, planting her feet wide to stand in front of me. “Help me how?”
Her question was pure confrontation and her aggression turned my blood to fire. It was more than I deserved, but I was happy to answer her challenge. My little Madison had found her teeth. Good. She’d need them if we were going to fight against her mother and the Langford’s.
And underneath it all, hadn’t I known Madison would understand my actions? She wasn’t the kind to hold a grudge.
“I won’t do it again,” I said. And I meant every word. She’d proved herself to me and I wouldn’t forget that.
“Yes, you will,” she said flatly. Then she sighed. “But that is what makes you, you.”
I opened my mouth to protest, but my denial was ripped away when she reached down to grip my cock through my jeans. I jerked forward as her fingers stroked me through the fabric, just this side of rough. I let out a groan, every inch of me on fire. I pushed harder into her hand, inviting her to do her worst.
I got busy with her buttons and I moved my lips from her hair to her jawline. Familiar excitement rose in a wave as Madison responded to my touch.
“I missed you,” I spoke against her skin.
She pushed up my T-shirt, just as eager to have her hands on me. I claimed her lips, never tired of tasting her.
I didn’t know how else I could show Madison what I felt for her. Pride. Adoration. Amazement. I wanted to explore what her future held with her. I wanted to be a part of it. I pushed up her skirt and she gasped as my fingers unerringly found their way to her clit. Wet. So wet. For me.
She grunted as I tipped her onto the bed, wanting to make her forget—make us both forget—about Salamond Holdings, Patricia…Russell…Thomas.
I found the slick heat between her legs, brushing my lips against her skin, loving the feel of her body, like it was made perfectly for me. I laved at her nipple and let her gasps of pleasure carry me with her. I pushed my fingers inside, keeping time with the suck and pull of my mouth on her breasts. I drove her higher, flicking across her clit, feeling the writhe of her body beneath me. She shuddered against me, back arching, legs tensing and relaxing as her pussy clenched tight around my fingers.
I let her rest for a few beats, then moved downward, replacing my fingers with my mouth as I started over. Giving everything of myself. Mind. Body. Soul.
I lowered my defenses…letting go, knowing it would be impossible now to haul myself back. Madison had taken my anger, my hard-edged hatred and replaced it with sweet acceptance. And I adored her for it.
She might be one of them, but she wasn’t like them.
I knew now, there was a difference.