Fears and Scars (11 page)

I
t feels
weird being home alone without Ryan. Especially since his presence is so strong even in his absence—his things, his scent, the traces of him are everywhere. Or maybe it’s only me seeing him in everything. Either way, I miss him like crazy.

“You’re already missing him, too, aren’t you?” I ask our cat, scratching behind his ear.

Snow and I are settled on the sofa with a box of pizza, ready to watch a few old episodes of
Friends
. It’s what we often do with Ryan—snuggle up together, my legs draped over his, his breath near my ear, and Snow curled up next to us.

I choose the next episode, but when it starts, all I can think about is the sound of Ryan’s laughter when we watch the show.

My man has an exceptional laugh—warm, inviting, booming, and contagious. I love it so much when he enjoys himself. Even though Ryan’s had means to buy or do anything he ever wanted his entire life, I believe he rarely truly enjoyed himself. It took me a lot of time to make him drop his serious act, stop carefully choosing every word, and second-guessing my motives.

Seeing Rachel’s pout on the screen, I realize I’ve already missed something funny. Maybe I need to change location and go to bed.

Visions of Ryan and me naked fill my head. His fingers running over my skin, his mouth between my legs pleasuring me with his talented tongue, his …

I flinch a little when my phone beeps indicating an incoming message, interrupting my sexy daydream. I snatch it off the coffee table and look at the screen.

A text from Nina says
U ok?

We texted earlier in the day, so she knows Ryan is in New York.

I text her back:
I’m fine. Snow and I are watching
Friends
.

Nina
: Going to the club. Wanna join?

I shoot her back immediately.
Too tired.

She knows clubs have never been my scene.

Nina
: I plan to use the empty apartment wisely. Will bring someone hot for kitchen counter sex. R u sure?

An interesting way to talk me into joining her. But yuck. I will never eat in that kitchen without bleaching it.

Me
: I’m sure. Good luck at the club.

Nina
: I don’t need luck. I have great tits.

Awesome. My friend has always been a bit too much, but Mark has corrupted her for good. Don’t get me wrong, there’s nothing wrong with enjoying the physical perks of being single, I just hope she’ll meet someone special soon who’ll show her there is more to sex than the physical release.

Me
: Don’t have too much fun, lady.

I know I sound like I’m an old lady, but I want to tease her.

Nina
: I will. For both of us, MOM!!!

Her next text comes in a second.

Nina
: Tomorrow I’m buying you a vibrator. It will loosen you up a bit!

I laugh and turn my attention back to the TV. If she only knew what Ryan can do with a vibrator. In fact, I think we have several in the bedroom. But I won’t tell her that. A good friend never rubs her better sex life in your face.

Two episodes later, my mouth is full of pizza when I rant, “Why do men think it’s okay to manipulate their women however they see fit? We aren’t puppets or dolls.” The last episode has riled me up a bit, hitting close to home. “Doing things behind someone’s back isn’t right, Snow. And lying to their faces is—” I stop myself.

Great, now I’m lecturing a cat. Pathetic.

Damn you, Ryan Price. Why do you have this compulsion to hide things from me?

“Forget it, Snow. Let’s just go to bed.” It’s almost midnight, Ryan is supposed to land soon, and I should get some sleep.

Snow gazes at me with his big green eyes, and I make an I’m-sorry-I’m-scary-tonight face at him. I scoop his little body up and rub my face in his soft fur. This adorable cutie in my hands is a blessing and constant source of joy in our life.

Sensing I need some love, Snow’s sandpaper tongue darts out to lick my cheek.

“I love you too, sweetie pie. Come on.”

We rarely bring him into the bedroom, but I need his company tonight.

The little ball of black fur has different plans because he jumps out of my arms and makes a beeline for the kitchen.

Food over Mama. Okay then.

Crawling into bed, I move to lie in the center of the bed and wrap a blanket around myself. Just as I start to reach for my Kindle, my cell phone buzzes with a text.

Ryan
: Landed safely. Miss you and Snow and our home.

A sigh of relief leaves me as I read the text, and my heart fills with warmth from his words.

I quickly type back.

Me
:
Glad you’re safe. I miss you like crazy.

Ryan
: Goodnight, sweetheart.

Me
: Night, honey.

I return the phone to the nightstand and lie down, hugging Ryan’s pillow. It smells like him—freshness with a woodsy note. Pressing my face into the softness, I peacefully drift into sleep. My last thought is about Jacob, my brother. I have a therapy session tomorrow, and I think I may be ready to talk about him.

A
s a businessman
, I always consider the consequences of my actions. Thousands of people could suffer from one hasty decision on my part. One ill-considered move could cost me millions. Nevertheless, in five years of being the CEO of multi-million dollar corporation, I’ve never been terrified of making a choice. I use logic, facts, and data and see the outcome pretty clear in my head. Sure, there’s always risks, but they can be calculated, predicted, and measured.

Yet now I’m scared out of my mind because one wrong move could cost me the love of my life. And even though I’m well aware that the risks are too high, and the outcome can’t be predicted, I must do this.

I simply don’t see any other way.

When my private investigator, Clayton, called me on Tuesday and told me Elizabeth’s brother was arrested for drug possession and car theft, I considered telling her about it. I really did, but she said she wasn’t ready to talk about him and told me to never even mention his name. The situation is dire, so I decided to take care of this myself and then tell her everything once it’s settled. That’s why I’m at Duval Regional Juvenile Detention Center in Jacksonville, Florida where Jacob is being held in.

I know this is far from ideal, but it’s the best solution I’ve managed to find.

Liz is a fixer who doesn’t have any sense of self-preservation. On top of that, the universe has a way of fracturing anything she wants for herself. This time I won’t allow it to happen. I will take the blow instead of her. I’d cross hell and high water to make all her problems disappear.

“You may go in, Mr. Price,” My attorney informs me.

Think, Price. Think one more time before you enter that door. Four days ago you promised Liz you’d never hide anything from her again, and here you are lying to her right off the bat.

Shit.

Even though deep down I know I’m making the biggest mistake of my life, I take one step after another until I’m seated in a plastic chair on across from a young man wearing a grey t-shirt. His attire surprises me. Guess I was prepared for an orange jumpsuit.

It also amazes me that Jacob bears a striking resemblance to his sister even though they have different fathers. Same heart-shaped face, same hazel eyes, same dark blond hair.

I’m pleased to see no trace of malnourishment as well as no bruising or scars on the visible parts of his body. All in all, he seems like a normal fifteen-year-old kid, except for the hostile look he’s giving me. But then again, maybe that’s normal for teenagers too.

“My name is Ryan Price,” I tell him in a business-like tone.

He narrows his eyes in return and looks me up and down.

“And why should I give a rat’s ass who you are?” Jacob asks, lifting his chin in a firm set of defiance.

“Because I’m here to help you.”

“Sorry, dude, not interested,” is his verdict.

“Listen,
dude
, you have two choices here—listen to me or go to juvie. Your call.” I go on without waiting for some kind of reaction, my tone solid and sharp as a knife. “Your uncle is a junkie who’s going to jail for a long time.”

His father’s brother is the one responsible for putting the boy in here in the first place. He took his nephew on a drug deal and was busted by the cops. Fortunately, the uncle had the decency to confess that he was the one responsible, but Jacob was still accused of driving the stolen vehicle. “And since you have no other relatives, you can choose a juvenile correctional facility or listen to me.”

My words make him even more hostile. I see it in the clench of his hands and the tensing of his shoulders. After a few minutes of silence, he shifts in his chair and says, “Fine. What can you do?”

“I can help you. Get you out of here.”

He gives me a frown before asking, “Why?”

“Because I can.”
Because I’m madly in love with your sister and her happiness is everything to me.

“Listen, man, I don’t know what kind of game you’re playing, but I’m not interested.”

With never really knowing his father, who was killed fighting for our freedom when Jacob was six, and his mother passing away from breast cancer when he was just twelve, he’s never had it easy. I get that he’d rather rely on himself only; I was expecting it.

Time for another path. “Did your mom ever tell you she gave a baby up for adoption before you were born?”

“You can lie all you want. I know you aren’t my brother.” He spits his words at me. Well, Jacob Evans most definitely doesn’t share his sister’s sweet, soft spirit.

“I’m not, but you have a sister. Elizabeth Grace Williams.”

There’s no trace of surprise on his face. He must have known about the adoption.

“Your sister was never told she was adopted and found about you several weeks ago. I hired a private investigator to get all the details for her. He did, plus informed me yesterday of your situation. That’s why I’m here.”

His eyebrows pull together, lines appearing on his forehead. “And who’re you to her?”

“I’m her fiancé.”

“She sent you?” He doesn’t want to show it, but I see hope in his eyes. He’s as bad at hiding his emotions as Liz is.

I shake my head, “Not exactly.”

“What does that even mean? I don’t do bullshit. Either tell me the truth or just get out.

“I didn’t tell Elizabeth you were in trouble. She has a lot on her plate as it is. Her grandmother is sick, and she can’t leave Moscow.”

A huff of disbelief slips from his mouth. “In other words, she wants nothing to do with me, and you’re feeding your hero complex. Not interested.”

I knew asking wouldn’t do it. It never does. Time for old-fashioned bribery.

“Okay. Let me lay it out for you. I’m not a good Samaritan. I do something for you and want something in return. I have conditions for helping you.”

“Conditions?”

“Yes. I get you out of here, get you emancipated and give you two hundred grand. All you have to do is sign this contract and follow all the conditions stated there.”

Jacob’s eyes grow twice their size and glaze over with shock. “Are you for real?” The second I recognize elation in his eyes, I know I’ve got him.

“I am.”

“How will it work? You would be like my foster parent?” he asks, his tone softer, polite even. He wants this.

“If everything goes as planned, a judge will grant me temporary custody.” My lawyers will have to jump through a lot of legal hoops, but money can do things. It’s one of the rare occasions I’m grateful for having tons of it. “Then we’ll work on emancipating you. It won’t be easy because you’re only fifteen, but my legal team says it’s possible. We’ll figure out your living arrangements and find you some kind of a part-time job to show that you’ll be financially self-sufficient.”

The boy’s brows furrow in disbelief. “What if it won’t work?”

“Group home or a foster family. You’ll be the one to choose. Everything is stated in the contract.”

“What’s in it for you?”

I decide to go with the truth. “I’m doing it for Elizabeth. If she knew you were in trouble, she’d come to your rescue. She’d be torn between helping you and being with her grandmother who’s in bad shape. She’s been through enough. I can’t allow it.”

He scans the first page of the contract, then the second. A few minutes of reading ends with exactly what I want to hear. “I’m in.” Of course he is. He thinks two hundred grand is a fortune. He sees nothing but zeros. That’s how it usually is. “But only if you add a few things.”

“Fair enough.”

“I get to choose my room.”

“Excuse me?” I ask, perplexed. I expected the request for more money.

“I’ll be living with you, right?”

I nod. “Yes, in New York.” I own a three-bedroom penthouse apartment in Manhattan close to Price Corp. headquarters. It’s modern and spacious, with killer panoramic views.

“From how you look and the cash you’re offering, I gather you have a nice place. So, I get to choose the room I’ll be staying in.”

Even though the request seems odd to me, maybe it’s reasonable for a teenager. “Sounds fine to me.”

“And I need to see a friend before we leave. Alone.”

“If you run away, you’ll be back here in a matter of hours,” I warn him.

“I won’t run. I just need to say goodbye.”

“Okay. Any other requirements?”

“No.”

“Here’s my card. Read the contract again and contact me if you have any questions or are ready to sign. Keep in mind, you won’t be able to just spend the money as you wish. All the expenses need to be approved by me and have to be related to your education, health, or accommodations. Oh, and don’t forget, you can never share anything about this contract with anyone, including your sister,” I say, rising to my feet. “See you soon.”

As I make my way out, Jacob’s question stops me, “What does she see in you?”

“Excuse me?”

“Must be those prim, uptight manners. ‘Cause it sure as shit isn’t your sparkling personality. Your lawyers better be quick.”

Well, I hope they will be. I can’t wait for all this to be resolved so I can be with Liz again.