“Madoc!”
I opened my eyes, blinking away the sleep, and shot up in bed when I saw Addie staring down at me.
“Addie. What the hell?” I adjusted the sheets to make sure I was covered.
This was fucking awkward.
Like she didn’t know what was going on, anyway. I was naked in Fallon’s bed for Christ’s sake, but still. Addie hadn’t seen me naked since, well . . . last New Year’s when I got drunk and jumped in the freezing-ass pool on a dare from Tate.
“Where’s Fallon?” I asked, looking around.
“Honey, I don’t know what’s going on, but Fallon is gone, and your father is downstairs. He wants to talk to you now.” She nodded and gave me the crazy eyes which meant that I needed to get my ass up.
Shit. I threw off the covers, and I heard a tsk behind me as I’m sure Addie didn’t appreciate me stalking across the room buck naked.
“Where did Fallon go?” I shouted as I crossed the hallway into my room.
“I have no idea. She was gone when I got up.”
No. No. No. I squeezed my eyes shut and shook my head as I threw on some boxer briefs, a pair of jeans, and a T-shirt. Grabbing my socks and keys, I had no intention of dealing with my father for long.
I was going to find her and drag her back by her hair if I had to. What the fuck?
Running downstairs, I grabbed my shoes where I had dumped them near the stairs and walked into my father’s office.
“Where’s Fallon?” I demanded, plopping down in the chair opposite his desk and putting my socks and shoes on.
My father was sitting on the edge of his desk with a drink in his hand, and I did a double-take. Now I was actually a little worried. My father was controlled and responsible. If he was drinking in the morning, then . . . I don’t even know. I’ve never seen him drink in the morning. I just knew it was odd, and my father lives by his routine.
“She’s gone,” he answered.
“Where?”
“I wouldn’t know. She left of her own accord, Madoc. And you’re not going anywhere. We’ve got to talk.”
I laughed bitterly and finished tying my shoes. “Say what you have to say, and make it quick.”
“You can’t have a relationship with Fallon. It’s just not possible.”
His bluntness threw me for a loop. I guess he knew we’d started up again. Did I want a relationship with her?
I stood up, ready to leave. “You’ve had two failed marriages. You don’t get to give me advice about this kind of stuff.”
He reached behind him and snatched a folder off his desk, shoving it into my chest. “Take a look.”
I sighed but opened the folder anyway.
My heartbeat echoed in my ears as I sifted through picture after picture of my father and Jared’s mom, Katherine. Photos of them entering his apartment together, hugging and kissing in front of his window, him helping her out of cars . . .
“You’re having an affair with Jared’s mom?”
He nodded and headed around his desk to sit down. “Off and on for eighteen years now. There’s nothing you can tell me about wanting something you can’t have that I don’t understand, Madoc. Katherine and I have had a lot of history, a lot of struggles, and bad timing. But we love each other, and I’m going to marry her as soon as possible.”
“Are you serious?” I gasped and laughed at the same time. “What the fuck?”
I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. Hey, I’m having an affair with your best friend’s mom. Hey, we’re getting married. And he talked about it as if he were commenting on the weather. That’s my fucking father for you. He does what he wants, and you roll with it, or you don’t. He was just like . . .
“Wait.” My gut knotted up. “Eighteen years? You’re not Jared’s dad, are you?”
He looked at me like I was insane. “Of course not. She’d just had Jared when we met.” Rubbing his hands over his face, he changed the subject. “I got this envelope from Fallon. Along with this and one of my business dealings, because for all intents and purposes, she’s blackmailing me, Madoc.”
The file folder crumpled in my fist. “You’re lying.”
“I’m not.” He consoled me with his flat voice. “This is all so much more complicated than you realize, but I want you to know that although Fallon came back here with ulterior motives, I don’t think she wanted to hurt you. She could’ve gone to the media with what she has on me. It would’ve hurt this family.”
I stared at the pictures, my breath getting shallower, faster, and my face warming with anger.
“She’s very angry,” he continued softly as if thinking out loud. “But she didn’t go to the media, Madoc. She didn’t want to cause you any pain.”
“Stop trying to protect me,” I bit out, sitting down in the chair again.
If she came back to blackmail my dad, then everything else was a lie, too.
“So what does she have on you?” I asked. “Besides this?” I held up the folder.
He hooded his eyes and spoke hesitantly. “It was a payoff I negotiated. It was illegal and I could lose my license, to say the least. But it wasn’t a decision I made lightly, and I would do it again.” He looked straight at me. “Nonetheless, Fallon’s not asking for much. And I didn’t tell you any of this to hurt you. I told you so you could move forward. I didn’t force Fallon to leave. She texted me last night.”
He tossed me his phone, so I could see his messages. Sure enough, the first text was from Fallon.
“She’s not right for you.” His voice was like a distant echo as I stared at the words on his screen. “Her father, for starters . . .” He trailed off.
And then I lost him. My stomach sank, I dropped the phone on the floor, and then laid my elbows on my knees, burying my face in my hands.
I remembered this feeling. It’s what I felt years ago when they’d told me she was gone all of a sudden. When I saw her empty bed where we lost our virginity together. And when I couldn’t sleep, and I’d storm into the basement to play the piano.
I didn’t want this again. I’d never wanted to feel that again. I inhaled a deep breath until my lungs ached so badly I thought they would burst.
“Stop talking,” I cut him off from whatever he was talking about. “Just stop talking. Eighteen years?” I asked. “That means that you were seeing Katherine Trent when you were married to my mother.”
His gaze dropped to his desk, and then back up to me. He said nothing, but I saw the guilt in his eyes.
For Christ’s sake. What the hell was the matter with him?
“Madoc,” he spoke low. “I’m sending you to Notre Dame early,” he told me in a resigned voice.
What?
He must’ve seen the confused scowl on my face, because he explained. “Things are going to get sticky here. With the divorce, Patricia will have no choice but to come home. You’ll stay at the house in South Bend until the dorms open up.”
“Hell, no!” I shook my head, standing back up.
As usual, my father stayed calm, not moving. “Fine, then go see your mother in New Orleans for the rest of the summer. You will not stay here. I want you to get perspective, and you need space.”
I ran my hand through my hair. What the hell was happening? I didn’t want to go to Indiana for the rest of the summer. I barely knew anyone, other than some faculty my father had introduced me to here and there on our trips to sporting and alumni events.
I wasn’t going. No fucking way!
And I wasn’t going to New Orleans, either. My friends were here.
“Madoc.” He shook his head at me like he could read my thoughts and was telling me no. “You will go, you will find a job or some volunteer work to pass your time, because right now I’m trying to protect you from yourself. I will pull my support, the tuition, your car, until you see the light. Distance is what you need right now. Do it, or you’re going to force my hand.”
In the span of a few short hours, I’d gone from disgustingly happy and excited about life to looking for a fight.
Fallon hadn’t even taken anything she’d brought with her except the clothes on her back.
It was all a lie, but then what did I expect? We screwed. It’s not like we talked about shit or had a date or had anything in common. There were other women to give me what she did.
But everything felt wrong again. Just like before. The clouds hung too low, the house was too empty, and I wasn’t hungry. Not for food, not for a good time, not for anything except a fight.
I didn’t care why I was mad. Hell, I wasn’t even sure why I was mad. I just knew I had to take it out on someone.
I jumped in my car and sped over to Jared’s house, knowing I wouldn’t get pulled over. Cops never pulled me over. A perk of being my father’s son. My sweaty palms strangled the steering wheel as I jacked up Linkin Park’s “Numb” and hauled ass. My tires screeched to a halt in front of his house, and I jumped out of the car, not caring that Tate and her dad were under the hood of his car with him.
“Your mom is messing around with my dad?” I shouted.
All three of them spun around to face me.
“Dude, what?” Jared looked confused, wiping his hands on a shop cloth.
I stalked across the lawn, sticking my keys in my pocket while Jared met me halfway. “Your slut of a mother has been sleeping with my dad for years,” I snarled. “He’s been giving her money, and they’re like getting married and shit!”
Jared’s eyes flared, and he knew I was looking for a fight. Mr. Brandt and Tate looked at me with wide eyes and open mouths.
Tate looked down, talking more to herself. “I guess it makes sense. She’s been seeing someone and keeping it hush-hush.” She let out a nervous laugh. “Wow.”
I sneered at her. “Yeah, it’s awesome,” I shot back sarcastically. “My mother crying when my dad didn’t come home at night. Me trying to figure out why my dad worked so much instead of making it to my soccer games.” I raised my hands and got in Jared’s face. “When what to my wondering eyes should appear but another gold-digging whore ready to make her career.”
Jared didn’t wait another second. His punch slammed me square in the jaw, and I laughed as I stumbled backward.
“Come on!” I urged him forward, the heat in his eyes full of fire.
He rushed me, and we fell to the ground, scrambling over each other. He hovered over me, his fist missing my jaw. I growled and threw him over, swinging my fist into his face and bringing in my other fist across his jaw.
“Stop!” I heard Tate yell. “Jax! Do something!”
Jax? Oh yeah. He lived here.
“Why?” I heard him ask.
Jared’s hands wrapped around my neck, and he locked his arms as straight as steel bars, holding me as far away from him as he could.
“Asshole!” I coughed.
He barely unclenched his teeth. “Fucking dickhead.”
Freezing water splashed my back, splashing around my arms and hitting Jared in the face.
“What the . . . ?” I barked.
The stream of water hit me in the face, and Jared released my neck to shield his head from the cold attack while I rolled off of him. We wiped the water out of our eyes and sat up, glaring at the hose-man until we noticed it was Mr. Brandt. And he looked pissed. His khaki shorts were splattered with water, and he had grease stains on his White Sox T-shirt.
“Your parents are seeing each other.” He spoke low, a hundred- pound weight in every word. “Worst case scenario they break up. Best-case scenario, you’re stepbrothers.”
“So?” I blurted without the good sense to shut up.
He threw down the hose and yelled, “So what are you fighting about?”
I swallowed, my mouth gone dry.
Yeah, I forgot about that part. Jared and Jax were already my brothers as far as I was concerned, but having our families connected like that might be pretty cool.
Unless the marriage didn’t work out. Which with my father’s history was damn well possible.
But on the other hand, his marriages probably failed because of his affair with Jared’s mom. Now that they could be together, it might be forever.
“I don’t know,” I mumbled.
Standing up, I couldn’t look at any of them, but I knew they were all looking at me. Why the hell did I attack my best friend? I had called his mother a slut, for crying out loud.
All of Jared’s shit while Tate was in France came back. He’d missed her. He’d loved her, even though he hadn’t known it then. And he had been withering away without her. He fought. He drank. He screwed.
And none of it made him feel any better.
So why was I screwing up my life for a chick I didn’t even love? Who didn’t even deserve my attention?
I could understand Jared losing control of himself for Tate. She was a good girl, and she fought for him. And when that didn’t work, she fought against him. She never stopped showing him that she was there.
But Fallon wasn’t Tate. She wasn’t even in the same league.
All of this was so stupid. I had no reason to go off the rails just because she popped back into town and fucked with me again.
Holding out my hand, I was relieved when Jared took it. I helped him up, hoping he took that as an apology. Jared and I didn’t need to get all girly. He knew I fucked up, and he knew that I knew it.
“Oh, look.” I smirked. “Fixing your car again? That’s a Ford for you.”
And I walked to my GTO, hearing Tate’s snort behind me.
