Not Your Hero (14 page)

14

Courtney

I’M HOME BY ELEVEN fifteen and stumble on the curb when I see a man standing on my porch. He’s tall, got a slightly rounded belly, salt and pepper hair, and dressed in an expensive suit. I close my car door, and when his eyes meet mine, the air leaves my lungs. If Sam hadn’t told me last night that this man was his father, I would have known by looking at him. Same jawline and sharp cheekbones.

“Courtney Gallagher?”

“Yes. Hi.” I meet him at the top of the steps, and even though his eyes are the same blue-tinted color of his son’s, there’s a coldness to them that I hope to never see in Sam.

“Jerome Monroe.” He extends his hand, and I take it in mine then quickly pull it away. I don’t know what he did, but if he hurt Sam, it makes me uncomfortable to be touched by him.

“Am I late?” I ask. I’m not. He said noon yesterday.

“No, I’m a little early. Care to take this inside?” He grabs his black leather briefcase and nods to the door.

I wish Sam were here right now. I’m nervous because Jerome holds my future, and the future of my child, in his hands. But more than that, I don’t know him, and we’ll be in my house alone. I see men like him at X all the time. The creepy kind who think because they’re rich, women owe them something.

“Sure.”

I unlock the door and step inside. When he slides past me, I close it and leave the lock unlocked.

“Let’s go to the kitchen table.”

He follows me and sits down, looking down his nose at my living space. I grab the folders containing all the papers I had gathered and join him.

“These are all copies of my bills and pay stubs. And any financial papers I thought might be useful.” I slide them in his direction. “And these are medical papers. Benjamin’s birth certificate, doctor’s notes, and stuff.”

He takes the other folder and shuffles through them without saying a word.

“Do you want something to drink?”

“No,” he answers briskly.

Okay, then.

“So, what do you think I-”

“I think this case won’t even make it to court. I did some digging this morning and have a card up my sleeve, if you will.” His eyes glimmer with evil.

“Oh.” Without acting too excited, I continue, “What do you mean?”

He pushes the papers away and leans forward, resting his elbows on the table. “Dirt. That’s all this is about. Matt married into money and power. His new family will do anything to make themselves look good, no matter who gets hurt in the process.” Smiling smugly, he laughs. “Luckily for you, I care even less. So, when I called around to Melissa’s ex’s, I was happily rewarded with a disgruntled one. That’s Matt’s new wife, in case you were wondering. It really is amazing what people will tell you for some cash.”

“Okay,” I drag out. I’m not a vindictive person, so I have no clue where he’s going with this.

He sits back and crosses his arms, blatantly staring at my chest, even though I’m in my hunter green work polo. “You sure are a looker. It’s no wonder Sammy is so . . .
smitten
with you.”

“Excuse me?”

“Tell me. Are you just as smitten with him?”

What in the hell? “Sam and I are dating, so yes, I’m
smitten.
” I don’t even know if we are officially dating, but I’m going with it.

“Hmm.” He rubs his chin. “He was smitten with Isabella, too. She was easy to bribe, though. Money hungry. Desperate to get her family out of a bad situation. Much like yourself.”

My stomach starts to turn at the hostility in his voice, and my mind immediately spins.
Is he trying to bribe me?

“Did he tell you about his mother?” His voice raises an octave in the end, and if it weren’t for the sneer on his face, I would think he was happy about what he’s going to say.

“No.” My mouth is dry, but I manage to get the word out.

“She was a beauty. Green eyes like yours. Infectious laughter. Did my Sammy boy tell you how he killed her?”

I gasp and cover my chest that has suddenly become tight. Sam is not a murderer. I don’t believe him.

“Yeah, he likes to leave that tidbit out. I suppose that’s what everything boils down to. Revenge, vengeance.” He stands and walks to the window with his hands tucked in his pockets. “We had big plans, my Stella and me. But an unexpected pregnancy ruined that. Samuel ruined that,” he spits. “I tried to be excited about the pregnancy, but I knew my wife, and I knew this child would become her whole world. I was jealous of the little shit before he was even born.”

“Why are you telling me this?” I whisper, wishing I was somewhere else right now, or at least that Sam was here.

He shrugs and turns to look at me, eyes colder than before. “She died giving birth to him. He killed her.”

The pounding under my ribs echoes in my head, and I struggle to move, to get out of here. I can only stare at him in shock.

“Anyway, I’m sure I could have done better as a father. He was just . . . always in my way. Pretty useful for some functions, though. He did help me play the grieving widower card when I needed to.” He looks over his shoulder at me before continuing. “I was overjoyed when he turned eighteen and moved out. Fucking relieved I didn’t have to look at his face every day and be reminded of what he took from me. When he started dating Izzy? Well, let’s just say I was handed an opportunity to get that sweet revenge I’d been craving for years.”

“But he was a child, a baby.”

“He was a mistake!” he yells.

I flinch at his tone, and he briskly walks to the table and puts a hand on my shoulder. My muscles tighten, and I bite the inside of my cheeks to keep from screaming.

“Relax. I won’t hurt you.” He releases me and returns to his seat. “Like I was saying. Izzy. Her brother was in deep with some drug dealers. Almost fifty thousand dollars. It wasn’t hard to pay her off. Make her family’s troubles go away. All I asked in return was to break my little Sammy’s heart. Let him feel a tenth of the pain he caused me.” He chuckles, and I cringe even further. “It was the day before his birthday. He was going to be twenty-three. It was dumb luck that he decided to go to the house that day. He found the picture of me watching his fiancée give head to the drug dealer her brother owed. That was my blackmail for her, but yet again, he ruined my plans.”

I gag, and he scrunches his eyebrows together.

“I’m sorry. Is that too vulgar?” He waves his meaty fingers and continues. “The point to this is that I already got my revenge on him. I still despise him for what he did to my Stella. But . . . It’s been eight years, and I’ve had time to . . .
reflect
on my choices.”

He closes his briefcase and runs his hand along the leather stitching in contemplation. The scrape of his chair startles my already tense body. Out of the corner of my eye, he walks to the wall and takes a picture off before returning.

“This your boy?”

“Yes.” It’s a picture of Ben at the park. I was lucky enough to get an amazing shot when he was coming down the slide. He’s laughing and looking directly at the camera, sun shining behind him, green eyes bright and happy, light brown hair blowing in the wind.

“He looks like you.”

“Thanks.” I have to fight the urge to rip the picture of my precious boy out of his hands.

“Stella would want her boy to be happy. I’ve kept tabs on him over the past decade. Any idea the number of women he’s brought home?”

I push away from the table, ready to run to my car because this is disgusting. My brain can’t process what he’s saying, and I feel sick.

“Sit,” he commands. “If you want me to help you keep your son, you will sit down. And listen to me.”

I swallow the bile in my throat and press my butt back into the chair, gripping the seat for support.

“The women. There have been a lot. But there’s something different about you. And to make amends for what I’ve done in the past, to clear my slate and my conscience, I’ll help you. But this is it. You make sure to tell him that I never want to see his face again. I don’t forgive him, and I’ll never forget. But for Stella, for
her
son, I’ll give him this. Do you understand?”

Not able to form a sentence, I nod.

“Good. Back to the matter at hand. It seems Matt’s new wife had a little problem a few years back. You see,
her
ex was eager to give me all the details of her pregnancy.”

He stares at me, and I stare back, stuck in a twilight zone.

“Ahh, I should explain a little further. You see. The baby was not her ex’s. And it was obvious at birth. Turns out, it was our good old Governor Gibson’s bastard child.” He laughs, actually laughs, before continuing. “Now the kicker to this all, the beauty that makes everything come together, is that her father is on Gibson’s payroll. Of course, they did a quick and dirty adoption. The kid’s probably better off anyway without her as a mother, vile woman.”

“Oh, my God.” I’ve finally caught up with what he’s saying and feel even sicker for being a part of this.

“Now, all it took was a quick meeting with good ole Denton before I came here to give him a history lesson . . . err, refresher. Unless he wants it all over the news that he helped cover up the infidelity and back door adoption of the governor’s illegitimate child, he’s going to drop the case against you.”

I breathe a sigh of relief, but quickly suck it back in, waiting for him to throw more shit at me.

“Ironic, isn’t it? The way this all played out.” He leaves my papers on the table and stands with his briefcase. “I shouldn’t need anything else. I’ll have my assistant come over with some papers for you to sign. This should all be over by the end of the week.”

“Thank you?”

Another laugh and he pats my hand. “Oh, the pleasure was mine, dear. You see, not only is my conscience clear, but this information puts me at a huge advantage against Denton. I never liked the bastard.”

He walks out, and when the front door slams, I jump, lay my head on the table, and shake with nerves, relief, and fear.

Moments later, there is a knock on the front door, but I can’t move. Another knock and the knob turns. My head is still on the table, cheek flush with the wood, and Sam’s body comes into view.

“Court?”

I can’t answer, but follow him as he gets closer.

“You okay?” He kneels down, and his eyes meet mine. I sit back so fast, I fall off the chair, and he’s at my side in an instant. “Babe, what’s wrong?”

He leans me against the wall and feels my forehead. I can’t stop staring at his warm eyes. It’s startling how much they look like his father’s, yet I know Sam is nothing like Jerome.

I have to tell him what happened. Everything makes so much more sense now. I understand Sam. I feel for him, growing up with that man as a father. I wish I had the strength to pull him into my arms and comfort him for all the pain he went through.

Then his own dad blackmailing his fiancée? Blaming him for Stella’s death. Who does that? What kind of person do you have to be? It’s no wonder Sam doesn’t trust anyone. “Your dad was here.”

He tenses. “What?”

“He was early.”

“Fuck. Did he touch you? Did he hurt you?”

“No. He didn’t hurt me.” I lift my shaky hand and press it to his handsome face. “He hurt you.”

He squints his eyes and sits down in front of me. My hand falls away, and I immediately miss the warmth he provides.

“What did he say?”

“Sam, I-”

“What did he tell you?” His voice is embarrassed, unsure. Nothing like the Sam I know.

“Everything.”

15

Sam

I DROP MY HEAD, ashamed she knows my disgusting past.

“Now you know.”

I take a deep breath, then stand up, ready to leave. She won’t want anything to do with me now—knowing what I come from, the kind of life I’ve led, who my father is.

“Where are you going?” she asks, standing with me.

“Leaving.”

“Why?” At the confusion in her voice, I turn and find her brows drawn together.

I run my hands over my face and look at the ceiling. “No way you’ll want me anymore. And I don’t blame you.”

Courtney’s warm hand on my arm sends a bolt of comfort through me. “If anything, it makes me want you more.”

I whip my head in her direction, and her soft smile makes my knees weak.

“What?”

“What he told me, how he told me . . .” She shivers, and I grip her upper arms.

“Did he hurt you?”

“No, no. Nothing like that.”

She grips my hands and takes me to the couch. We sit down, and she leans over and gently kisses me.

“You’re too good to me,” I tell her. With everything she’s going through, she still tries to comfort me. “I want to get back to all this talk about us, but I need to know what he said about Ben.” I’m really not worried about this bogus custody battle. I know my dad. And there’s no way he would lose to Denton. If there’s one thing about Jerome Monroe, he doesn’t say what he doesn’t mean. And he said he would help.

She smiles, and I know the good news is coming. “He said everything would be resolved by the end of the week.”

“What?” I smile.

“Yeah. I guess Matt’s new wife got pregnant by some governor, and Denton covered it up. The birth, the adoption.” Bouncing in her seat, she claps, obviously excited. I dig my fingers into the palm of my hand to keep from grabbing her beautiful tits. I swear she turns me into a horny teenager. “He didn’t seem fazed at all and said his assistant would stop by with some papers for me to sign. He also told me to tell you . . .” she trails off and looks away from me.

“What, babe?” I turn her chin and force her to look at me. She needs to know she can tell me. “It’s okay. I can handle it.” And I can. I’ve heard anything and everything from that man. It doesn’t surprise me that he gave her a message for me.

Her mouth opens a couple of times, and she looks away again. I grip her head with both hands and rest my forehead on hers. “It’s okay,” I whisper.

“He said that you were even now. That he never wanted to see you again.” A tear rolls out of her eye. “I’m sorry.”

I’m not surprised but honestly relieved. The past eight years I’ve been avoiding reality, living because of my past. But now. Now I want to live in spite my past.