Taken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Third Season (16 page)

BOOK: Taken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Third Season
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I shook my head. The
only
thing I wanted was Jen. And there was no way she could deliver her to me. My best bet was still working with her father—I knew there was no other way.

“You doubt me, and I fully understand that.” She opened one of the drawers in the desk and pulled out several folders. She slid them across the mahogany toward me. “I’ve been planning for this day for a long time, Brandon. I didn’t quite envision it with
you
sitting in the same room with me, but we have to take whatever life hands us, don’t we?”

I lifted a brow and opened the top folder. There were photos of a house on the top of the stack of papers with property deeds underneath.

She lifted an envelope from the desk drawer and slid that one across as well. “This one has the travel documents for Jenna. You’ll have to provide your own.”

I shook my head, glancing through the next folder then the next. They were all similar—photos of homes and the deeds to the property. “I don’t understand.”

“I would suggest the Costa Rica property. It’s on the beach—I’m sure you’re aware of Jenna’s feelings about being near water. The Venezuela property is the nicest, but quite a distance from the ocean. But I’ll leave the decision up to you.”

I pushed the folders back across the desk. “I really don’t understand what you’re asking.”

She let out a flustered sigh, pushing the folders toward me again. “I’m not asking you anything. I’m offering you one of these properties. Jenna has been asking for a normal life—whatever that means to her—for as long as I can recall. She more than proved she can live that life, don’t you think?”

“Yes. Yes, she more than proved it by living in that hell hole you made her live in—“

The roll of her eyes interrupted me. I could almost see Jen in that eye roll. “I
made
her do nothing, Brandon. She
chose
that life. She could have just as easily chosen to stay here until the election. Living in Waterville was
her
decision. It was what
she
wanted.”

I opened the top folder again. The home was nice—small, but I was positive it was a house Jen would want to live in. Understated and
normal
. I stared at the beach house in the photo. “What is it you’re asking of me?”

“I need you to kill me.”

2

F
our Days
Later

N
o latch
.

I had seen these windows at least a thousand times since I had lived here. I had just never had the need to climb up the bookcase in the library to check them. And now that I was twenty feet in the air and dangling precariously on my tiptoes to reach the damn window—
there was no latch
. The stupid thing didn’t open at all. I looked over at its twin a few feet away and saw it also didn’t open to the outside. Probably because whoever made the house didn’t think this room was going to be used for the purposes it had been used for the past several days.

“My fucking luck.” I muttered my words under my breath, making the mistake of glancing down at the floor. I sucked in a breath and looked up again—twenty feet was a hell of a lot farther up than it had seemed when I had decided to climb up this high. And I wasn’t sure I was going to be able to get down without killing myself.

My heart began to race and a cold chill ran down my spine when I heard an unfamiliar male clear his throat across the room. I held onto the edge of the top of the bookcase and turned slowly, trying to be careful to keep my balance on the narrow ledge.

The man lifted a brow. “Miss Davis? Do you need help?” He seemed like he was trying to stifle a laugh.

I turned back to my predicament. I was sure I looked ridiculous, but I was equally as sure I didn’t need help. Not
his
help, anyway. None of the people who were supposedly “protecting” me these past days were my friends. Not one of them would tell me what in the hell was going on or when I was going to be let out of this library-turned-cage.

I let out a slow breath, trying to calm myself. “I’m fine.” I wanted to tell him to go fuck himself, but I knew if I lost it the way I had a few hours ago, I would fall. A fleeting thought passed through my head that maybe—just maybe—if I fell and broke a leg or two, they would have to let me out of here. They would have to take me to a hospital, and maybe then someone would tell me what in the hell was going on instead of keeping me prisoner here.

“Yes, ma’am.” He paused, probably waiting for me to turn back around to look at him.

I shook the thought of purposely trying to harm myself from my head. The last thing I needed was people thinking I was trying to commit some kind of self-harm again—that kind of stuff always got into the tabloids somehow. “Is there something you needed? I’m a little busy.”

I could hear the stifled laughter when he cleared his throat again. “Yes, ma’am. You have a visitor.”

“Fine.” My heart was racing again at the thought, though I tried not to let my excitement show in my voice. “Show them in.”

“Yes, ma’am.”

I heard someone enter the room behind me, stopping just inside the door. I knew it would have only been one of three people—and I hadn’t seen two of them since I had been locked away in this stupid room however many days ago it had been.

“I hope you weren’t waiting to be rescued.” His voice was low—almost a growl, but I could hear the edge of sarcasm in it. “My fear of heights is almost as bad as my fear of water.”

I pressed my lips together to hide the grin I could feel forming. There was nothing funny about this situation. It was ridiculous, but there was nothing amusing about it. “I was just checking to see if the housekeepers have been dusting up here.” I reached down with my foot to find the edge of the next shelf below me, securing my footing before bringing my other foot down to join it. “They’re doing a fine job, in case you were wondering.”

“I’ve always wondered how they managed to dust up there. I guess I suspected it was with the ladder-thing that’s over there…”

I glanced over at the other wall of bookshelves, seeing for the first time the ladder-thing that Brandon was talking about. I couldn’t believe I hadn’t seen it before. It was almost like I
wanted
to put my life in danger on some subconscious level. I shook my head and took another tenuous step down, finding my footing before doing it again and again once more. I jumped to the ground and turned to face him.

He met my gaze, his eyes narrowing slightly as a tiny smile formed on his lips.

The sight of him still took my breath away, making my knees turn to jelly. I couldn’t deny what I still felt for him—what I had felt for him for so long now. But there was something new there, too. A little twist of guilt in my stomach that hadn’t been there before. I knew this situation was one of my own making. Everything—every horrible thing that had happened had been my own fault, as difficult as it was to admit. And he … he didn’t deserve this. I knew what I needed to do. I’d had so much time to think about it over the past several days that I was sure it was the right thing, even though I knew it was going to hurt more than anything had hurt before.

I had to let him go.

Just the thought of it made my eyes burn with tears. The thought of never seeing him again made my chest ache with a pain I was sure I would never learn to live with. But it was the right thing to do. It was only fair to him.

I took in a deep breath. I wasn’t sure if I could get the words out without falling apart. “Brandon, I—“

He interrupted. “The bathroom windows open. I saw two guards standing outside when I pulled up, but if you waited until dark, you could probably get around them. If I was determined to escape, that’s what I would do.” He smiled. “But you need to have a plan for after you get out of the house. It’s at least a mile to the gate, and the razor wire around the rest of the compound might make it difficult. Painful, at least.”

I smiled. “The beach. I was going to wait until low tide and try to get around the southern rock wall.” I let out another long breath. “We should talk. You don’t deserve this.” I made a motion with my arm—something like a game show model displaying what a contestant could win. “Any of this.”

His gaze narrowed again, but his smile didn’t fall away. “I’ll try not to take that as an insult, Jen.”

I closed my eyes for a moment, shaking my head. I opened my eyes and met his gaze again. “I didn’t mean it that way. I just meant—“

“That you feel guilty.” He nodded, looking around the room before his blue eyes met mine. “You don’t have anything to feel bad about. You had nothing to do with any of it.”

I shook my head. “I had plenty to do with it. I wouldn’t be in my grandfather’s library—the only safe room in this compound, apparently—if I hadn’t been involved in her plot. And if I could have just stayed here … if I could have just hidden here until fall, none of this would have happened. If I hadn’t had to live some sort of ‘real life’ everything would have been fine. If I wouldn’t have
insisted
that I be allowed to leave this place, I wouldn’t be a prisoner here, waiting for someone to figure out who killed her.” I blinked back my tears, refusing to let myself cry again about the mess I had made. “No one would have killed her if I would have just sat quietly and waited for the right time, just like she asked.”

He cleared his throat, dropping his gaze to the floor, his voice lowering with it. “Jen, the medical examiner ruled it a suicide. They aren’t out looking for a murderer.”

“What?” My voice had turned into something of a screeching howl. My eyes widened—what he said was impossible, and I knew I must have heard him wrong. “What?”

He nodded. “They ruled it a suicide.”

My jaw dropped. “That’s impossible. Marian Hennessey would never … would have never…” I couldn’t even finish the sentence, but I knew there was no way that the woman who had raised me would have ever taken her own life. And there was no way that if she somehow had, she would have done it like
that
. “The blood, Brandon.” I shook my head again. “She couldn’t have.”

“I know.” He took a step toward me. “Jen, you should probably sit down.”

“I don’t need to sit down.” The memory was still too fresh in my mind. The massive amount of blood, like every bit of the fluid had been somehow drained from her body to pool around her. And I still wasn’t sure if it was my imagination that had seen how all that blood had come to be on the ground in the first place. I was sure I had seen her head almost severed from her body, but it had all happened so fast there was no way I could trust my memory. I knew I had blacked out and it wasn’t more than a few seconds later that I had been taken to the other side of the Hennessey compound to be protected in the safest room in the place. The only room that didn’t have floor level windows or a door to the outside.

He took another step toward me, a look of growing concern in his eyes. “Jen—“

“I saw.” I looked up to meet his gaze again. “I saw her—there was no way that was a suicide. I don’t believe it. And that’s why you’re still holding me here, isn’t it?”

He nodded slowly, his shoulders curling slightly over his chest. “I’m so sorry.”

“Why? She hated both of us. And you have nothing to be sorry for.” My stomach hardened and the beating of my heart quickened. “Do you?”

“Jen, can we sit? Please?” He motioned at one of the leather sofas in the middle of the room. “Let’s sit.”

“Did they find Cade?” My voice hitched in my throat. “You don’t think he—“

He crossed the rest of the room in what seemed like a single stride. He seemed to sense that I was about to lose it again before I did. It wasn’t that I was prone to fainting spells, but the combination of witnessing the aftermath of what had happened to my mother and the growing realization that there was even more to this than I had ever realized was making my brain mushier than usual.

He slid his arms around my waist, his gaze boring into mine. “Sit. Please.”

It was too much. The electrical pulses that still flooded my body at his touch combined with the swirling thoughts and fear were making me feel like I was losing touch with reality. I didn’t want to sit—I just wanted this to end. I still loved him—I knew there was no doubt about that. I just couldn’t see a way through this with him. I knew there had to be a way out of this latest mess, I just didn’t see any way my future could include Brandon. Not now—not after everything that had happened.

He guided me to the couch, sitting down next to me.

We sat in silence for a long moment while I tried to sort my thoughts. I couldn’t even remember what I had been meaning to tell him. The thought that Marian had done that to herself sent another shudder down my spine. It hadn’t been that long ago that I had felt at my own breaking point—where I felt like I couldn’t go on living. Marian had been the one who had not just tipped me over the edge, hell, she had practically
shoved
me. But I just couldn’t wrap my mind around the possibility that she had been in that same situation herself. That something in her life could have been so painful that she thought that killing herself would be the only thing to bring her solace.

“It’s okay to be sad about this. About her.” I saw him rub at the stubble on his jawline from the corner of my eye. “Whatever you’re thinking about it is okay. Sad. Angry. Conflicted. It’s all okay, Jen.”

I knew he was trying to be helpful. It just didn’t seem like there was really anything that
could
help at this point.

We sat in silence for a few more minutes before I finally found my ability to speak. “She didn’t kill herself, Brandon. There’s no way—“

“I know that, Jen.”

“But you said the medical examiner—“

He interrupted. “Ruled it a suicide.” He let out a long sigh. “Because I paid them to.”

3

N
othing
about that statement should have shocked me. It would have been more shocking to find out that Brandon or my father had
nothing
to do with Marian’s death than to find out they had. But even though it shouldn’t have been a surprise, the blow I felt in my chest still sucked every bit of air from my lungs. My jaw dropped to the floor and I lost my ability to speak again, my thoughts swirling around in my head like a tornado.

“Jen, I can explain.” He reached out to pull my hand into his.

I snatched it away, trying to move my body as far away from his as possible. I was already against the arm of the sofa, so there was really nowhere to go. The thought of screaming flitted through my mind briefly, but the odds were pretty good that the guards—Secret Service, or whoever they were—were in on whatever the hell
this
was. There was no one to save me. No one who was going to rescue me—not this time. Not that there had really ever been anyone who could. I knew I needed to learn how to save myself. I needed to get out of this life once and for all. And I had proven to myself that I could—that I didn’t need a trust fund to live off of. That I could make it on my own without any of the people who seemed to want to control every bit of my life.

That was my only thought at that moment—to get away. To get as far away as I possibly could.

“It’s all going to be okay, Jen.” I could hear the agony in his voice, even though I knew he was trying to be comforting. The pain. I knew it hadn’t been him—that there was no way he could have slit Marian’s throat.

I could only shake my head, unable to look over at him. I still couldn’t find enough air to breathe, let alone speak.

“I didn’t do it, Jen. I know that’s what you’re thinking. I know that under the circumstances—“

I interrupted with the turn of my head to meet his gaze. I could see the truth in his eyes. I could see that he wasn’t lying. I could tell that this was as painful for him as it was for me.

“I know how it looks. I know that after everything you told me the night before she died—“

“I wouldn’t believe you if you told me you did it.” Tears stung at my eyes again. “Even if you said you did, I wouldn’t believe you were capable of something like that. I don’t know
anyone
capable of something like that.”

His mouth twisted and he tore his gaze from mine. I could see he knew something, I just didn’t know what.

“You know who did.” I shook my head. “It wasn’t Cade, Brandon. He isn’t capable of something like that, either. Someone needs to find him, though. He’s probably—“

He stood, interrupting me. He let out a long breath. “
That
wasn’t his style. That—“He brought his hands to his throat. “Not his style. Or mine.”

I could only nod, even though I knew he couldn’t see me.
Not his style
. The words rang in my ears. I hated even having the thought of wondering what his “style” would have been. It wasn’t as though I didn’t remember Amanda’s death like it was yesterday. Faking suicides seemed to be the running theme with the guys who worked for my father.

Something about the thought was almost sobering. It wasn’t as though I didn’t still fear for my own life—I had crossed my father, and I knew I would end up paying for it at some point. But there was something about the way he was talking to me that told me he was hurting, too. That he wasn’t a fully willing party in this. That there was more to this story than I knew, not that I knew much.

He shoved his hands in his pockets, unable to face me. He stood there in silence for a long moment.

I was finally able to find my voice. “Why? Why pay off the medical examiner? Why are you even here, Brandon?”

He turned to me slowly, finally looking me in the eyes. “The answer to the second part is easy. I love you. It’s the only reason I’m doing any of this.”

I could see the tears behind his eyes—tears I knew he was struggling to hide. I stood, taking his hands into mine. “You don’t need this. This isn’t your story, Brandon. You don’t have to stay for me.” The weight from my chest lifted at the words—the words I had wanted to tell him for months. He didn’t deserve to be in the middle of this. He didn’t need to be an accomplice in my father’s crimes to somehow win his approval for us to be together. We both knew that no matter what we did, my father would never give his consent for us to be together. And in a different world, it wouldn’t have mattered. If there was somewhere we could have run, we wouldn’t have needed his approval.

“You don’t understand, Jen. This
is
my story. It is now. I’m too invested for it not to be.”

I shook my head. “I left that cabin. I left willingly after Cade and Krystal told me what Marian wanted.” I forced a smile. “I
deserve
the consequences. You don’t.”

“You don’t even know what you’re saying, Jen. And none of it matters now, anyway. You’re here. I’m here.” He pulled a hand away, motioning at the door. “I’m supposed to take you back to Virginia. For the funeral.”

I shook my head again, the forced smile still in place. “I’m not going, Brandon. No one knows I’m alive. No one cares. You can be free of me and we can go our separate ways. You don’t need to play his games anymore. You don’t have to work for him—you don’t have to try to win me.” I let out a long breath. “We failed. Both of us. All of us. He won. He proved it when he had Marian killed. It’s over, Brandon. All of it—it’s all over. We just need to concede.”

He pulled his other hand from mine, rubbing at his forehead as though he had a terrible headache. “They
do
know you’re alive, Jen. It’s all over the papers. It’s why we cut the cable TV and wouldn’t let you have a newspaper. They know. Everyone knows.”

“How…?” I sank back down onto the couch, my knees almost buckling under me. Everything was fine if no one knew I was alive. I could slip into a new life somewhere if no one was paying attention. I had proven that to myself over the past several months. I could take care of myself now. I didn’t need any of this life—I didn’t want it anymore. Little snippets of my past began flashing before my eyes—the nasty stories about my love life. The hurtful articles that had been written about every facet of my life. The constant spotlight, even though I had never looked for it and had learned to ignore that it was always there. The past nine months had been almost like a rebirth—almost like I was a new person, unfazed by the spectacle of the Davis family.

It had been so nice while it lasted.

Brandon let out another sigh, turning to me. “The kid from Waterville. The one who had his tongue down your throat when I found you.”

“That’s ridiculous, Brandon. He didn’t know.” I narrowed my gaze. “And he did
not
have his tongue down my throat.”

“He wanted to.” His fists and jaw clenched. “He
definitely
wanted to.”

I suppressed the impulse to roll my eyes at him. The jealous act was … sweet in a way. It was also obnoxious and unnecessary. “Are we really back to that?”

“No.” His eyes softened a bit. “I guess I’m not over the fact that you were able to get over me. But we don’t need to talk about it now. We have the rest of our lives to talk. Right now, I’m supposed to get you back to Virginia.” He let out a flustered breath. “And Jen, after that, we’re getting out of here. Right after the funeral—we’re leaving. And I’m not asking you. I’m telling you.”

“I think I just told you that you didn’t need to do this, Brandon. I think you should leave. I think
I
should leave. I just don’t think we’re supposed to do it together.”

“Bullshit.” He shook his head. “I told you, I’m too invested.”

“Brandon…” I let out a sigh. “I’m telling you that it’s over. You can’t say ‘no’ to that. You can’t—“

“No.” His eyes crinkled with his smile. “I just did it.” He shrugged. “You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Jen. Not happening.”

“Everything is different, though. Everything has changed.” I didn’t know how to get it across to him—our feelings didn’t matter. All that mattered now was not ending up with our throats slit from ear to ear. I didn’t think I could live with myself if anything like that happened to him. I couldn’t let him die for me. Or for my father. Getting out now was the best chance either of us had to stay alive.

He swung his head slowly from side to side, closing his eyes for a moment before opening them to meet my gaze. “Nothing is different.” He stepped in front of my, pulling me up to stand in front of him. He slid his arms around my waist again. “Nothing has changed.”

My voice dropped to almost a whisper, my heart hammering in my chest. “You’re wrong.”

“I’m not wrong. Not about this. Not about us.” He dipped his head, pressing his lips against mine before pulling away to look into my eyes. “I’m not wrong.”

I dropped my gaze as he leaned forward again, pressing his forehead against mine.

His voice dropped to match the whisper in mine. “Nothing about
us
has changed, Jen. Not a damned thing.” He kissed my cheek softly, almost like a feather against my skin, before his lips found the spot on my neck that made me melt. My legs went weak and I felt his hold around my waist tighten as he kissed at that spot harder, my neck bowing despite my futile attempts to not let him—
this
—affect me.

He pulled away for a moment. “Anything about that changed?”

My head barely shook in response. I knew if I let myself answer out loud, my clothes would be off in a split second and I’d be on my back, begging him for more.

“I didn’t think so.” His lips returned to that spot on my neck for only a moment before he trailed kisses along my collarbone. He lifted his head to meet my gaze for a second before dipping his head to the other side of my neck, repeating the exact laving kiss on the opposite side.

I felt my legs begin to wobble, and his arms tightened around my middle again until he was almost holding my entire body weight. “Brandon…” Part of me knew this was a terrible idea, but another part of me—a much stronger part of me—wanted to beg him to take me on the couch right then, guards outside or anyone else be damned.

“Tell me that’s changed, Jen. Tell me that you don’t feel exactly the same thing you’ve felt since the first night I made love to you and I’ll leave. Tell me.”

I somehow made another barely perceptible shake of my head. Words didn’t seem possible. I couldn’t think of any words other than his name at that moment.

He pulled away, letting out a long breath. He set me down on my feet—I hadn’t realized he actually
had
been holding me up. His brow lifted for a moment. “That’s what I thought.”

I didn’t know how to respond. It would have been stupid to deny that I still loved him—that every part of me still ached for him.

“You aren’t trying to get me to leave for my benefit. I’m not sure whose benefit you think you
are
trying to get me to agree to that for, but it isn’t for mine.”

“Maybe for mine.” I hadn’t really thought of it that way, but he wasn’t completely wrong. There was a part of me that thought it was in his best interest to forget I had ever even existed in his life, but there was another part that just didn’t want to be hurt. Some part of me that knew that if we rekindled whatever it was we’d had in the past, I was the one who was going to be left wounded.

“We’ll have to explore that masochistic streak another time, Jen.” A wry grin flashed on his face before falling away again, his expression growing serious. “I’m not leaving you. Not now and not ever. We see this through to the end, no matter what happens.”

Tears stung at my eyes again. He loved me. I had known it all along, but it was the first time in so long that I had
felt
it in every bone in my body. He wasn’t going to leave me—and he wasn’t going to let me leave him again. But I knew he couldn’t protect me from everything. I looked up at him, trying to let him see the fear that was eating at me. I loved him, but I knew it wasn’t enough. Love wasn’t going to protect us from the other forces that were set on destroying everything in my life. The forces that were determined to get my father whatever he wanted at any price.

I let out a long breath, fighting to keep the waterworks from flowing. “Even if we end up like Marian?”

He nodded. “Especially if we end up like Marian.”

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