Broken: The MISTAKEN Series Complete Second Season (17 page)

“
T
ake a left here
. Then take a right at the next street.”

Brandon had been silent for most of the trip. He had deflected every question I had asked about these kids—he wouldn’t even tell me how old they were, their names. Nothing. He just answered every question with, “Just trust me,” or, “You’ll understand when we get there.” Unless these “kids” weren’t children at all, I wasn’t sure how I
could
trust him. Or even how he expected me to.

We pulled up outside a small, white house in a middle class area of Sacramento. Not too fancy, but definitely not run-down, either.

He scraped his hand through his hair and looked out the window, still not saying a word. I could see just from the constant bouncing of his knee that he was as nervous as I had ever seen him. I just wanted him to tell me what the hell was going on—let me in on whatever this was. What it was that was so important to him, he was willing to risk the two of us being together by showing it to me.

I got out of the car first and waited for him to exit the passenger side. He sat there for a long moment, staring at the front door of the house. It almost looked like he was willing whomever lived there to never come out—to ignore the fact that he was there.

He finally got out, grabbing the sacks of toys from the back seat.

I followed him to the door, and before we even got to the steps, two small children tore out of the house, slamming the screen door behind them.

“Brandon!” Two blonde children attacked him, one on each leg. They were young, probably no more than two or three.

He grabbed both of them in an embrace, both still attached to each leg. “Hey, guys.” He looked up at me. “This is Jen.”

The little boy looked up at me. “Hi, Jen.”

I smiled. “Hi.” He looked nothing like Brandon. Nothing at all, with his blonde hair and dark brown eyes. A memory flashed through my mind, one from middle school biology. Something about recessive and dominant genes. I was sure that dark hair was dominant. Blue eyes were recessive—I definitely remembered that. It just seemed really unlikely that these were his children, considering they looked nothing like him at all. These kids couldn’t be blonde if they were his. Maybe.

And they called him Brandon. Not Dad. That was weird.

The little girl looked almost identical to the boy, and I knew they had to be twins. He had a son and a daughter, and both of them called him Brandon. Not Dad. It was hard to wrap my mind around.

A woman came to stand in the doorway. She was thin—too thin, and almost skeleton-like. Barely a skeleton with some skin stretched over it. It looked like she may have been attractive at some point in her life, but now… not at all. She looked quite a bit older than me, and probably older than Brandon, too. I gazed at her and wondered if this was really a woman that Brandon found attractive. If he had fathered two children with her because he had found something about her appealing.

“You really need to stop bringing them so much stuff, Brandon.” Something about her voice sounded familiar, but I couldn’t place what it was. I saw her tilt her head and look in my direction for a long moment. “Jenna?”

I looked up at her again. I didn’t recognize her and assumed she must recognize me from the magazines or from TV. It happened a lot these days, which I still didn’t love. I probably would never love it, but I was at least becoming a little used to it.

I forced a smile, my prim, phony smile that I knew Brandon hated so much. “Hello. Nice to meet you.”

“God, it’s been like, forever. I heard about the stuff with your dad. You should come in.”

It’s been like, forever? There was definitely
something
familiar about her voice, but definitely
not
familiar about the way she looked.

She smiled, and it looked like her skin might break off her face, it stretched so tightly across her bones. “You don’t recognize me, do you?”

I looked at her again, tilting my head to get a better look. I didn’t recognize her—I went through the mental rolodex of people I knew in my head who were that age. Krystal was the only woman I could think of in that age range who would know me well enough to call me by my first name. There had to be a mistake. There was no way I knew this woman.

I glanced over at Brandon, suddenly remembering why we were here in the first place. He was sitting on the grass with the kids, going through their bags with them, and showing them all their new toys. I could see how much he loved them, just seeing him sitting there playing with them. He might have been an absent father, but he seemed like he genuinely loved them.

I looked back at the woman, who was still smiling, beckoning me to come inside.

She shook her head. “Jenna, you seriously don’t remember me? It’s me, Polly.”

I felt my heart race in my chest and I had to take a step back, my knees suddenly quivering. Polly Edwards. Pauline. The girl I went to high school with. She wasn’t years older than me—she was a year younger. What the hell had happened to her to have her age like this? I looked back over at Brandon, who was watching me with a look I had never seen before. His shoulders slumped and his eyes were… wet. Dull. This was sorrow. Whatever it was that had happened to Polly, he blamed himself. I could see it written all over him.

M
y dislike
of children was world-renowned. I had never made a big deal about it, but me and kids? Not so much. These two, Hannah and George, though, they weren’t so bad. The fact that they were Polly’s made me indebted to them and I always tried to do what I could for them. She had only regained custody of them last year, and considering the reason she lost them in the first place could definitely be considered my fault … buying them toys was the least I could do. Buying them this house didn’t even come close to covering what I had done to her. I was glad I had the means to do it, though not that she had asked. I had insisted.

I should have told Jen about her, about what I had done. How I had broken Polly so many years ago and caused her to become that woman—the hollow and broken shell of woman who could barely survive on her own. I had been the cause of her poor decisions. Hell, I had caused her father to commit suicide all those years ago, so anything that happened now was my responsibility.

Jen talked about my “revenge list.” If she only knew. It wasn’t so much a list anymore, though. I had exacted my revenge against enough of the people I blamed for what had happened in my life—to my father—that I didn’t really need to hurt anyone else. There was her father, of course, but he wasn’t even at the top anymore. He wasn’t even second on the list. There were other people I needed to hurt before this was done, and while Senator Davis wasn’t going anywhere on my “list,” I knew there were other people who would be receiving my … attention before long. Before her father would, anyway.

Daniel was near the top of my list now, not that she needed to know it. He had hurt her, and I would make sure he suffered for that. Death was too easy for a man like him—a man who would harm the woman I loved. I wanted his to be a slow and painful burn, one where he regretted being alive for the rest of his days. But I would take care of him later.

There were others who were even more responsible, people Jen had no awareness of. People I never wanted her to know about. At least I didn’t want her to know to what extent they were involved in anything going on in her life. Or mine. I could fix this. I could fix all of it—that was what I did, for the love of God. I fixed things. And what had happened between us, all the misunderstandings, the overreactions… I could fix it all.

I watched the two women walk into the house and I handed each of the kids another toy from the bag. I knew that when Jen came out, she would either forgive me and we could move on, or she wouldn’t be able to look at me. And I didn’t know what I was going to do if it was the latter.

I
stood at the window
, watching Brandon play with the children in the yard. My throat felt tight and the aching in my chest made it difficult to breathe. I’m not even sure what it was I was feeling when I saw the three of them together—some mix of hurt and jealousy, probably. He could have told me about them. I wouldn’t have run—I was sure of that.

“Can I get you something? Tea? I don’t have coffee, sorry. Makes me too jittery.”

I glanced over at the woman who had taken a seat on the sofa near the window. I felt a pang in my chest when I thought about what must have happened to her. How she had come to be this … skeleton, if that was even what she was. It had to be from drugs. I had seen the same this-is-what-happens-when-you-do-drugs movies as everyone else—and she could have been a star. Polly Edwards being a meth-head didn’t surprise me that much, given what I knew about her past.

She motioned to the chair across from her with her hand, a tight smile on her face. “Sit down.”

I flicked my gaze over her again before sitting down to face her. The pity on my face must have shown.

“Don’t feel sorry for me, Jenna. It hasn’t been all bad. Those kids…” She motioned toward the window with her hand. “Those kids saved my life. I wouldn’t be here today if I hadn’t had them.”

I nodded and looked out the window again. I watched for a moment as Brandon took out the bottle of bubbles and began blowing them into the wind. The little girl and boy were having the time of their lives chasing after them, and the look on his face … contentment. He loved them. I knew in my heart he should be with them.

“I was sorry to hear about your fiancé. I can only imagine how difficult that must have been.”

I turned my gaze to hers. She didn’t know about Daniel—no one did. For all the world knew, he was still dead and I was still a near-widow. “Thanks. I…”

“You don’t have to apologize about what happened. You weren’t the only one who didn’t call after my father died.”

I hadn’t been about to apologize, but I knew what she meant. After everything happened with her father—no one wanted anything to do with the Edwards family. The stigma they carried was so noxious, no one wanted anything to do with them. Nothing that her father had done was her fault—I knew that. I should have been the first person to realize that, if only because of all the things my own father had done.

“He never forgave himself.” She nodded toward the window. “Brandon. No matter what happens to me, he needs to forgive himself.”

I nodded, even though I had no idea what she was talking about. I remembered Krystal telling me that he’d had a hand in her father’s downfall, in exposing him for the things he had done. But I was honestly so oblivious to what had gone on back then, that I really had no idea what it was that he could blame himself for. Her father had taken bribes—lots of them. And not just small ones. He had taken huge bribes and almost flaunted the fact that he was able to get away with it. If Brandon hadn’t been the one to expose him, someone else would have.

“Did he tell you about any of it? I mean, that’s why he brought you here, right?”

My stomach churned. “I think he just wanted me to know about the kids.”

She smiled and I noticed her missing teeth. Her face was so weathered, as though she had spent years working outside in the sun and time had not been kind to her at all. But she was a year younger than me, twenty-three at most. “He told you that they were his?”

I knew she didn’t want my pity, but it was hard not to feel it for her. My insides were quivering with this line of conversation, though. I didn’t need to hear about his past relationships. I knew he didn’t want to share that information with me and it was fine, because I didn’t want or need to hear it. “Aren’t they?”

She chuckled and took a sip from the mug of tea she held in her hand. “No. They’re not his. He just takes care of them like they are.”

It didn’t make sense to me. Why would he care for another man’s children? Why would he feel responsible for them? I knew I would never get those answers from him, even if I asked. That wasn’t the type of information he would share with me, not in a million years. “Why? I mean … why?”

The smile fell from her face and she set the mug down on the small coffee table separating us. She looked out the window before she looked back at me. “Do you remember high school?”

I leaned back in my chair. “Sure. Why wouldn’t I?”

She stared down at the floor. “It could have been you, you know. He could have targeted your father and not mine…”

So that was what she wanted me to remember? That our fathers were close friends at one time? “Polly, I know what you went through was horrible, and I can’t even imagine…” I paused, trying to decide how to best put my thoughts into words without hurting her feelings or bringing up my own memories of the type of person
she
had been in high school. “But my father wasn’t…”

“Your father was. It just wasn’t as obvious.” She looked up to meet my gaze. “Do you remember the trips we used to take? There was one to France, one to Bermuda…”

“Yes, of course I remember.” I shook my head. “I should have called. I should have checked on you…”

She held up her palm to stop me. “My family didn’t come from money. Everyone thinks politicians are all wealthy, you know? But we weren’t, and I think my dad…” She dropped her gaze back to the floor. “Your family has old money. Huge mansions all over the country. You can do what you want, whenever you want. But my family didn’t have that, not
until
my father got into politics. At least, that was how my mother explained it to me.” I saw her look back out the window. “He got greedy. He wanted a house like yours, to take the trips on other people’s dime. And when you come from nothing and then suddenly have everything, people start to notice. Brandon’s father noticed a long time ago.”

I let out the breath I had been holding. All of that happened before I was born. Before she was born. Brandon had nothing to do with his own father’s death—he was barely older than the two children running around the yard when his father was murdered. Back when both my father and Polly’s father were Congressman and Brandon’s father had gotten just a little too close to their questionable dealings… Brandon had nothing to do with that.

“It’s not hard to put two and two together. He just needed some names, dates.” She shrugged. “I was a stupid teenager and you’ve seen him…” She motioned toward the window with her hand. “No sixteen-year-old girl could say no to
that
.”

I looked out the window again and drank him in. She was right, except there was probably no woman on the
planet
who could say no to him. He met my gaze through the window, his blue eyes blazing. I had a sudden urge to kiss him hard, let him know that I wasn’t going to run away. I wanted to run my fingers through his black curls, tell him I would be his for as long as he would have me. He had no reason to blame himself for any of this, and I wanted to make sure he knew it.

“I told him what he wanted to know. About my father, I mean. Dates, times, names… My father didn’t hide things from me. Not really. It wasn’t that hard to find the information that Brandon wanted. And he was so good to me, so gentle and sweet…”

I looked back over at her and saw the wistful gaze on her face as she looked out the window. “You’re still in love with him.”

She shook her head and turned to look at me. “No, not after everything that happened.” She gulped and picked up her cup of tea. “Not after what he put my family through. What he put me through.” She took a sip and looked back out the window. “He’s not completely to blame, though, you know? I lied to him. I told him I was on the pill when I wasn’t. I told him I was eighteen when I wasn’t…”

I could see she was lying—that she was still in love with him, no matter what she said. But he had taken advantage of her, which wasn’t like him. He was always so careful, so calculating. He should have known better.

“He thought I was Darlene when we met. And by the time he found out, it was too late. I was already pregnant, and…” She shrugged. “It was too late.”

I looked out the window again and watched him play with the kids for a long moment. He made a mistake. A huge mistake, and he couldn’t forgive himself for it. He was still making himself pay for it.

“When my dad resigned and we moved out here, before, you know…”

I nodded. Before her father had killed himself. It wasn’t just the bribes that were exposed back then. There had been rumors of espionage, that he had sold information to people in other countries. His crimes had grown so much over the years, at least what I knew about him. I still wasn’t sure what her father and my father had really done to draw the attention of Brandon’s father all those years ago, but it wasn’t as big as what Congressman Edwards was eventually brought down for. He was no better than a spy. It was unheard of for someone of his stature in society. Congressmen were supposed to be held to higher standards, and even though I was only a teenager myself when it happened, I remembered how disgusted I felt by what her father had done. Had been accused of, anyway. And then when he shot himself, it was almost like an admission of guilt…

The words she had spoken finally sank into my brain. “You had a baby? Brandon’s baby?”

She shook her head. “I miscarried. There was so much stress—my mother was drinking and then my father…”

I nodded. She didn’t need to remind me of what had happened.

“He said he’d take care of me and he has. After I lost the baby, I started seeing a guy at my new school. He got me hooked on heroin, then I started doing meth…” She let out a long sigh and turned her gaze to the window. “Brandon has paid for all the rehab. Four times so far. The last one was last year…” She took another sip of her tea. “It was a new treatment program for people hooked on meth. It’s so hard to kick, Jenna. You have no idea.”

I nodded. “I’m sorry. I don’t. I don’t have any idea, I mean.”

She nodded in return. “It’s all you think about—the drugs… It’s always there, just underneath the surface, no matter what you’re doing. The craving. The need to have more…” She forced another tight smile. “It doesn’t matter. He wanted me to be able to have the kids back. My sister had them for a while. My brother just got married, and he said he’d take them if I ever relapse again.”

I didn’t know what to do with this information. It was a lot to process in the ten minutes or so that I had been sitting in her living room. All I could think about was what she had been like in high school. How she was heading down this road before she ever met Brandon.

“But Brandon has done everything he said he would. He bought us this house, he got me the job in the governor’s office so I can take care of the kids…”

My heart sank.
That
was why I couldn’t work there?
She
was why? I flicked my gaze back to hers. “What are you doing there? In the governor’s office?”

She shook her head and frowned. “I just work in the mail room now. It’s barely more than minimum wage, but since Brandon bought me the house, I don’t need much. Just enough to put food on the table.” She looked back out the window. “I’m just one of his minions now. I help him out when I can.”

One of the people he calls when he needs a favor. I knew exactly what she meant.

She turned to me and smiled. “I’m sorry you didn’t get your invitation to the convention, but it looks like you figured out you were invited, anyway. As if they wouldn’t invite you when your father is the keynote speaker tonight. I’m not sure how he managed that after everything…”

My gaze must have betrayed the mixture of emotions I was trying to hide. “Brandon asked you not to send the invitation?”

She shrugged. “He asked me to have your name removed from the guest list, too, but I don’t have that kind of power.” She smiled, tilting her head. “I work in the
mail room
. I think he forgets that sometimes. It isn’t like I have the passwords to the computers or anything.”

“Right.” I produced my Hennessey smile. “But I
am
still on the guest list?”

I saw her attempt to crease her brow, but the skin stretched across her face was so tight, it was almost hard to tell. “Why wouldn’t you be? Your dad is speaking tonight. It’s supposed to be the highlight of the weekend. I told Brandon you wouldn’t miss this, even if your invitation was lost. But he
insisted
…”

I kept the prim smile on my face. “Yeah. He can be that way, can’t he?”

She chuckled. “Yeah. Definitely.”

I stood up from my seat on the chair and extended my hand. “It was good to see you again, Polly. I hope everything works out for you.”

She took my hand and pulled me into a stiff embrace. “It was so nice to see you, Jenna.” She pulled away and looked into my eyes. “I’m glad it was me and not you.”

My brow furrowed with my confusion. “What do you mean?”

She smiled. “The day I met Brandon, that day in high school when Brandon and I first met … he was looking for you.”