Cut (27 page)

Her heart soared. She didn't want to come back down.

They laid on the couch tangled together, Jessie's heart beating against his own. The possessiveness with which he touched her had butterflies flapping in her stomach. He'd brought her to his real home and he let her inside his world. Shame prickled her cheeks at what she had yet to tell him. Already she'd waited too long. The way she saw it, she had two options. She could continue to lie to him or she could tell him the truth. Both felt difficult to put out there. One would hurt Brent and the other would crush him.

Brent ran his hand down the length of her front. “Stay the night with me,” he said.

In a perfect world, she could stay forever. The fast pace of her heart didn't slow down. She couldn't rest until she told him. Jessie sat up straight.

“What is it?” he said.

“I've got to get dressed.”

“I'll just undress you.”

A weak smile curved her lips. “I can't stay tonight.”

He grasped her elbow. “You're upset with me.”

“Not with you. I'm angry at myself. I've been trying to tell you something all night and have done a miserable job.”

Jessie got off the couch and put on her dress. “I got caught up in the evening, in the auction, the diamonds, and most of all, you.”

Brent put on his pants and stretched the shirt over his chest. The rest of his suit remained on the floor. His messy hair made him rugged and hot. Jessie looked away before she got herself into more trouble.

“You can tell me anything,” he said.

“I did something I shouldn't have done. I…I wasn't thinking straight.” She pursed her lips together and shook her head. “It happened the morning after you tried to wrestle me for the green diamond. I was up all night. I didn't know what to do and I became impulsive. I didn't mean to…”

“Didn't mean to do what?”

“I am so sick of gemstones ruining my family.”

Brent picked up his wine glass and took a sip. “What did you do?” he repeated his question.

“I couldn't tell you earlier. I needed you to make love to me.”

In a calculated voice he said, “Where is the diamond, Jessica?”

No turning back now. She barely got the words past her lips. “I threw the diamond in the ocean.”

The glass slipped out of his hand and crashed on the floor. Wine sprayed all over the hem of her dress. “
You did what?
”

Her voice fired like a rapid gun, “I don't expect you to understand. If you would let me explain. Your line of work. Diamonds. Gemstones. They've brought so much pain to me. My brother's in prison and my sister's in a coma, all because of what you do. I couldn't stand to have the diamond near me. Once I saw how much you wanted it, I flipped out. I did what felt right. I did what I thought Melanie wanted me to do. She gave it to me because she couldn't do it herself.”

Brent grabbed her shoulders. “Do you have any idea what you've done?”

Jessie reeled. “I didn't understand the importance. The tiara and the rarity, I had no idea until the auction. When I saw the size of those diamonds and heard people place values on them in the millions, I understood.”

“You didn't understand the importance, even as your sister risked her life to get it to you?”

“I made a huge mistake.”

Brent wasn't listening. He ripped his hands from her shoulders. He turned and strode out of the room with heavy pounding steps.

She ran after him. “Please, talk to me.”

He turned and faced her. The lividness on his face caused her to step back. “Brent.”

“
Get out.
”

“I'm trying to be honest with you.”

“Your deceit is inexcusable. You should have told me! You have no idea what you've done.”

“Don't do this.”

“I
am
doing this.” His arm slashed across his chest and he pointed to the front door. “Leave.”

“Listen to me, please. You were right. I've fallen in love with you. I wouldn't have come here tonight if I felt differently.”

Brent laughed in her face. “Do you actually think that matters after what you've done?”

Tears loaded at the backs of her eyes. The punishment of his cold grin—she'd anticipated his anger, not this…this
hatred
towards her. Whatever she could scrape together of her pride, she unclasped the diamond necklace around her neck and dropped it on the table next to him. “All you care about are diamonds,” she said, and headed to the door.

“I'm not fighting to bring back a diamond,” he raged, spinning around and almost tripping over her.

“Then what?” she pleaded.

“I'm fighting to bring back my son.”

“Your
son
?” The shock resonated in her voice. “You have a son?” The anger in her chest dissolved. The eagerness to argue disappeared. A shockwave of bewilderment settled in instead.

Brent looked away. “His name is Gabriel. Tomorrow he'll be two months old.”

“Why isn't he with you?”

“Jefferies Abbott is Gabe's grandfather.”

“Oh no.”

“Oh yes.”

“Where is your son now?”

“Supposedly in San Francisco. Jefferies and I are to make a trade. My son for the diamonds.”

Jessie's lips parted in awe. “The diamond,” she said in a strained voice. “Your son.”

Brent clenched his jaw.

“No. Oh please, no. I didn't know,” her voice fell away. There was nothing she could say to make this right. She reached to touch his arm. “Brent.”

“Just go.”

“Tell me the whole story first. There must be something I can do.”

“You've done enough.” Brent's gaze darted over her shoulder to the door.

“How am I supposed to get home?”

“You'll have to figure it out on your own.”

“I have no idea where I am.”

“That's not my problem.”

He left her alone in the grand foyer. Chills ran down her spine. The tears she held back started to come. The pain she'd unleashed upon him she felt herself. She wiped away the moisture from her eyes and exited his house and his life.

The frigid air slammed into her shoulders. The wine had worn off, taking her warmth with it. She stood in the small quad with his parked car and the rustling trees. The gate opened automatically and she assumed Brent pushed the button from somewhere inside his house.

The monstrous house he'd lied about. She knew it didn't out-betray her actions, but she tried to think of anything to not feel so awful. She'd been so wrong. Nothing could make her feel worse than she did right now.

The gate started to close before her feet left his property. The isolation set in on a street empty of cars and a city tucked into bed. Awake, ashamed, and alone on the sidewalk, Jessie shivered. Several feet to the left she saw a street lamp and she headed to the light.

She took out her phone. With shaking fingers she located the map on her device. A teardrop blotted the screen; she ran her finger across and smudged it. Hunched over, she tried to protect herself from the blasts of wind.

Jessie longed to see her sister. She needed Melanie like never before. Once again she managed to speed up the decay of an already bad situation. She wanted to see her sister. To see better times. To be home in the comfortable house with everything in its place. She still had a sister. Melanie was still alive. She could go to her now and break her stubbornness. She would wait outside the hospital until visiting hours. The moment she could see her, she would pull up a chair next to Melanie's bed and talk to her. Even if Melanie couldn't talk back, Jessie wanted to tell her everything.

They had been that close once. Close enough to sense each other's presence. Maybe from the depths of Melanie's coma Jessie's voice would register and reach her heart. Melanie would wake up and listen to Jessie and tell her how to fix the damage she'd caused to Brent's life.

Jessie stared at her phone. The blur of tears got in the way of the screen. She refocused and took one long breath to get back on track.

Get a ride to the hospital. Visit Melanie every day until she wakes up.

It would all be okay.

Jessie straightened and focused and tried to figure out the location of Brent's house.

Footsteps sounded from behind. She glanced up to see a man walking towards her. Panic gripped her. “What the…”

Brent stepped into the light and revealed his face. He walked directly to her.

“I'm getting a cab,” she snapped, and returned her gaze to the screen. She wouldn't let him see her humiliation. “Tell me your address.”

Brent pushed down her phone.

“What are you doing?”

“Luke called.”

She tried to figure out why this concerned her. The somber face of his put the brakes on every single one of her thoughts. In the span of a heartbeat, she understood. The phone slipped out of her hand. “No.”

“I'm sorry.”

“No.”

“Melanie passed away.”

She stared at him. She tried to speak, but it was like someone cut off her voice box. Her arms wrapped around her middle.

The faintest stream of air might blow her heart over like ashes on the wind.

Brent picked up her phone off the ground at the same time Jessie's hand sprang forward. The strength of his arm stopped her hand mid-air and he crumpled her against him. He locked his arms around her and held her. The instinct to resist him took over like second nature. She tried to wrangle out of his arms, but he kept his hold. Like he would never let go, no matter how much she tried to punch her way out from him. Her scream was muffled by his solid chest.

She cried.

He held her.

The wind howled.

Stars flickered above.

The world changed in an instant.

And all she could do was lean into him.

She leaned further and let him take the brunt of her weight. Tears soaked his shirt. Her body shook from the cold or the devastation or both. Jessie's nose jammed up against the crook of his arm as he repositioned his arms to secure his hold on her.

She tried to break free and said, “The guy who talked to me in front of the hospital! I never called him. He threatened to hurt Melanie. He must have gotten to her. I've got to call Monica Robinson. I've got to get to the hospital. I need to tell the police.”

“Whoever he is doesn't matter.”

“He does. He killed her. We have to go.”

“Melanie suffered a debilitating stroke. Those were Luke's exact words. No mention of faulty equipment or shady characters lurking in the hallway. He was with her when it happened.”

“This guy could have unhooked her machines. He could have gotten to her.” Hysteria bubbled in her chest and her mind went a hundred different directions. “Please, I have to talk to Detective Brennan.”

“I'll call Detective Brennan myself. Right now you need to be with your mother.”

Jessie could see he wouldn't give her much choice. “Where is she?”

“On her way to the hospital. I'll take you to her.”

“I'm not sure I can walk.”

He repositioned his arms around her waist. “I won't let you fall.”

“What about your son?”

“I'll take care of my own problems.” Brent nodded to the open gate. “Wait out front. I need to grab my keys.”

He began to walk away and Jessie said, “I didn't get to say I'm sorry to her.”

Brent whirled around. “That doesn't matter.”

Jessie stood there with her fists balled at her sides. “It does though.”

A car zoomed past the house with music blaring.

“Just wait here. I'll be right back,” Brent said, before disappearing in the house.

She waited by herself, overcome with regret at the exact moment she took action to set their history right. Jessie stumbled back and inadvertently slashed her hand at a bush to catch her fall. The sudden movement tripped her backwards and she landed on her rear. Her dress fluttered up and fell down in a soft pink ripple. A whiff of dirt met her nose. The glacial nails of the air current skimmed over her skin. She put her head to her knees and lost herself…

* * * *

Tap.
She felt the headache before she opened her eyes.
Tap. Tap.
One eye and then two, she let the room come into focus.

Seated next to the bed and stirring a cup of hot liquid, her mother said, “Hello, my Jessie.”

The pink dress hung over one of the chairs. Jessie started to get up. Sickness filled her stomach and hiked up her throat. She blinked through groggy eyes. The dark side of the night hung around her thoughts. “Melanie…” She didn't finish the sentence.

Leslie nodded. She watched her daughter through red-rimmed eyes. Her mother's age showed vividly.

“How long have I been out?”

“All night.”

“How did I get here?”

“Brent brought you to the hotel. You passed out in his front yard and he didn't want to bring you to the hospital.”

Jessie got up in slow motion. The muscles in her stomach felt heavy as a dump truck. She should feel good about his kindness to bring her to the hotel. Instead, she felt worse. “Where is he?”

“With Luke. We're all to meet there in a little while. He's taken charge of the…arrangements.” Tears poured out of her eyes. Leslie sprang forward and embraced her daughter in a fierce hug.

Questions burned on Jessie's tongue. She needed to hear every detail of Melanie's death. Leslie gave her all the answers, including the part about the stroke Melanie had suffered. The doctors and nurses tried to resuscitate her and couldn't. Luke had been with her. At least she wasn't alone.

She couldn't bring herself to think of what that scene must have looked like. Jessie thought back to last night and vaguely remembered Brent had said something similar while they had been standing on the street in front of his house.