For the Love of the Billionaire: The Complete Story of Barrett and Scarlet (23 page)

“Of course,” she said, suddenly nervous. “What about?”

“Well,” he said, wrapping his muscled arms around her and pulling her on top of his bare chest. “You talked about meeting your family the other day. It got me to thinking.”

“Oh?” she said. She knew she’d moved too fast asking him to spend time with them. She was nervous.

“Yeah. It made me really happy that you asked me that. It made me realize this is going somewhere serious, more serious than I’m used to anyway,” he confessed. “I know it’s kind of silly, but this is the closest thing to a relationship I’ve ever had.”

That shocked her. Barrett’s alleged love life was one of the most popular things to speculate about it in the tabloids and celebrity magazines that rested at the front of every grocery store she entered these days. How could this possibly be true?

“But the media…” she started. “You’ve just been linked with a lot of women.”

He nodded, “True. Linked. Maybe even spent time with. But I’ve never loved anyone. Not even close. Not until I met you.”

Her eyes widened and her heart started racing, “Why me?”

“Why you? Why me?” he asked, kissing her head. “Why am I this lucky? You’re so pure and perfect. Or at least, perfect for me. And no one makes me come like you…” He growled against her ear making her laugh. “But really, you’re like home, Scarlet. The home I always craved when I was younger. The safe place I need. Where I can rest my heart. You have the ability to annihilate me if you chose to do so. Don’t you know you’ve always held all the power?” He looked into her eyes, the ones that would always haunt him. “As much as I own your body, you own my soul, Scarlet.”

She kissed him, “I love your soul.”

“I’m glad,” he said, running his hands through her hair. “I always worried I wouldn’t have a very good one. Not with the DNA I share with a certain person.”

“Your mom?” Scarlet asked. “Is she that terrible? I mean, you make her sound like someone out of a fairy tale. The wicked stepmother or an evil queen.”

“That would be putting it kindly,” he said. He had his head supported by one crooked arm while his other hand traced circles around her torso. Her skin was so smooth. “In a way she isn’t far from those archetypes. But it’s worse because she’s a real person.”

“I need examples,” Scarlet said, touching his face. “How can she be that bad?”

“My mother,” Barrett began. “Comes from old southern money. Why does this make a difference? Because she comes from the kind of old money that doesn’t have money anymore. Sure, she went to the best schools, networked with the right people. But by the time she met my father, her family didn’t have money anymore, they just had their name. Since they’d always had money they were terrible with it. They didn’t know that unless they invested or built something with it, it would go away. So my mother was pressured to marry very well. To use her natural gifts to keep the money and name in good status. Not very many people know that about her, she confessed this to me one night when she was drunk and I was nine years old.”

“Not the most appropriate conversation to have with a nine year old,” Scarlet said. “But I’m completely fascinated. Go on.”

“Well, you have to realize, my mother never considered me a child. Or my brother and my poor sweet sister. We were expected to be adults by the time we were four. So anyway, my mother comes from a people who care very much about who your family is and where your people are from. Blood lines matter to her more than bank accounts for the most part. It’s a terribly snobbish kind of philosophy. Anyway, she clings to it, the name thing. My mother’s family goes back to the Mayflower, which I guess is a big deal. I stopped caring about that shit a long time ago. So when you understand that, you can understand why she is the way she is. She has been raised to believe she is above almost everyone, just by virtue of her existence. Therefore, her children are above others, since they share her sacred genes. It’s fucking ridiculous.”

Scarlet was quiet for a moment.

“So,” she said. “I guess there’s no chance you can ever bring me home to her. Being that I don’t have a lineage. Though my mom is convinced we’re related to Mark Twain. I have no idea how or why. Wishful thinking on her part.”

Barrett shook his head, “No, baby. I don’t care about what my mother thinks. That’s my point. I know for a fact she won’t be happy with anyone I ever bring home to her. Which is why I never have and why I’ve never allowed myself to get close to anyone like this. Because what a nightmare to lead them into. My family is fucked.” He sighed, looking past Scarlet and out towards the ocean. “You just need to know that. So you can know what you’d be getting yourself into. If you chose me.”

Scarlet wanted to hold him and never let go.

“We choose each other,” she said. “I’m not afraid of your family. I’m only afraid of this not lasting the rest of my life. Because I’m ruined for anyone else. I’ll never love anyone like I love you.”

It was what he needed to hear, but Barrett still wasn’t sure Scarlet would ever be able to understand what she was getting herself into by loving an Evers.

It would be another two months before she finally did.

Scarlet had fallen asleep around midnight, with her mother next to her and Nancy on the sofa bed, when Barrett got a call from Mark, his bodyguard.

“I’ve been texting you all day to find out where you were,” Barrett whispered angrily into the phone. “I know you were off today but I’m guessing you haven’t been completely off the grid and you’ve seen the news.”

“Yes, boss,” Mark said. “That’s why I’m calling.”

“Okay,” Barrett said. “So where are you?”

“I’m close by,” he said. “Going to your mother. Or heading to her hotel at the moment.”

Barrett was confused, “Why is my mother in Nashville and why would you be heading her way? And what the fuck does this have to do with anything?”

“You’ll see,” he said. “It has everything to do with what she hired me to do.” Mark paused, nervous about what he had to say next.

“I have Thisbe,” he said.

********

Barrett had almost lost his mind when he heard Mark say he had Thisbe. It took everything in him to remain calm, since he wasn’t sure what Mark’s motivations were and he didn’t want to say the wrong thing that might put Thisbe in harm’s way.

“Why do you have her, Mark?” Barrett whispered. “And is she okay? And why aren’t you bringing her to me?”

“Because your mother wants to see her,” Mark said. “And what she says goes. You know that.”

Barrett’s heart pounded in his chest, “You work for me, Mark. And Thisbe is my child. Are you aware what kidnapping is, Mark?”

“It’s not like that,” Mark said. “And I don’t work for you. I never did. I always worked for Patricia. This whole time, I’ve been her eyes and ears. And now I want to be the one to save her granddaughter. So she’ll let me come back to her.”

Barrett was now confused and scared. What the hell was happening?

“Okay, Mark,” Barrett placated. “How can I help you? We can all win here. What happened today?”

“Well, I went to the Holloways. Ahead of you and Scarlet. Last night, in fact. I wanted to warn them that you planned on taking their child away from them,” Mark said. “My hope was that they’d leave town. Take her with them. And you’d never find them again and I could let Patricia know I solved a problem for her. You know, she’d be very angry if she knew Scarlet had your baby after all.”

God, Mark sounds like a psychopath.
Barrett’s blood ran cold thinking about this man and all the trust he’d put in him these last few years.

“Okay,” Barrett said. “So what happened then?”

“Well, they were upset. Said they couldn’t let that happen. I assumed that meant they were going to get outta dodge. I shouldn’t have assumed anything,” he said. “They told me to meet them at their house the next morning, before you guys got there. I didn’t know what would be up but I showed at the crack of dawn. That’s when I found them. With a note.”

Barrett was shaking with rage but he knew he had to stay cool, “A note? What did it say?”

“Well, being that they were dead, it was a suicide note. They’d done it while Thisbe was sleeping. It was to you and Scarlet. Saying if you were taking Thisbe, you gave them no choice, they couldn’t live without her and that I needed to take her to you so she wouldn’t find them like that. And to call the police right before you were both supposed to arrive,” Mark paused. “It was pretty terrible. You and Scarlet killed that poor couple. You two ruin lives.”

Barrett wasn’t sure how to proceed. “But you didn’t bring her to me. So what do you want? How do I get my daughter back?”

“Easy. You do what I tell you to do, for once.”

********

Patricia had been on a plane when the news about Thisbe came out to the press, and being that her phone was off, she’d heard nothing about the biggest news in the media at the moment. Websites were already calling it “Lindbergh Baby, the Sequel” which was insensitive and cruel, especially knowing the fate of that poor baby.

Patricia was a bit of a Luddite when it came to technology. She didn’t like being interrupted, even by Pierre or Mark, and her cell was off more than it was on. She didn’t have any social media nor did she follow any kind of news that wasn’t in a newspaper. The woman had insulated herself from the world. She just didn’t care.

But on this day, that was most inconvenient.

She’d owned a condo in downtown Nashville for at least a decade. It had been for Clementine, in hopes that she would go to Vanderbilt, but that never panned out. Nothing ever did with her daughter. Such a disappointment. But in this case, it was suitable since Patricia loathed most hotels, and Nashville didn’t have anything that was going to work for her tastes. She just didn’t understand what her son and that toxic Scarlet Bloom could be doing here. But she intended to find out. Even if it meant dealing with Mark.

She’d told him where she’d be and he’d mentioned that he would be meeting her late that night, something that exasperated her but she treaded carefully around Mark. She’d revealed a lot of secrets to him, a lot of herself to him, and she hated to admit that gave him a small amount of power over her. He was one of the very few who could claim such a thing.

Around 1 am she’d finally decided it was time for sleep. She’d been reading a Gillian Flynn novel, and enjoying it, but her eyes were heavy. She considered texting Mark but she was frustrated with him for being so cryptic and weird. She’d also considered calling Barrett but she doubted he’d answer. He probably had her number blocked by now anyway. He’d done things like that before. But he always eventually unblocked her and allowed her back into his life.

Now that Scarlet was back it might be trickier. Patricia wondered how much Scarlet had told Barrett. Certainly not everything.

But just as she was drifting off there was a knock at her door.

She padded over to it in her long silk kaftan and Chanel slippers. On the other side of it was something she expected and also something she never would have expected in a million years.

It was Mark. And in his arms, a sleeping little girl.

Barrett hadn’t been to the Evers condo in Nashville for years and even then, he’d visited only once. He’d forgotten all about it, and when Mark told him to meet him there to get Thisbe, he was surprised to learn his mother even still owned it.

“Remember, you need to come alone,” Mark had said. “No cops, no Scarlet, no one else.”

“Of course,” Barrett said. “All I want is Thisbe. And to hear whatever it is you need to say, Mark.”

“See you in twenty minutes.” Mark disconnected.

Barrett stared at the digital time on his iPhone for a few moments, wondering what he was about to get himself into. He was tempted to call the detectives on the case, to wake up Scarlet, to get his people involved. But he was afraid to risk any chance of Thisbe being hurt. So against his better judgment, Barrett told no one. He slipped out into the night and took an Uber to the Evers condo.

********

It was a long ride up the elevator to Patricia’s. Barrett’s heart pounded in his chest and he thought about what he was going to say when he saw Thisbe. He wondered how much his mother knew by now. He’d been shocked not to hear from her; the story was all over the news. His father had finally gotten in touch with him from Las Vegas and was flying in tomorrow. Barrett hoped that by then Thisbe would be with him and Scarlet and this long and terrible nightmare could finally be finished.

Barrett knocked on his mother’s door lightly and he heard her commanding voice.

“Come in, Barrett,” she said.

As soon as Barrett entered he saw his mother and Mark both sitting on her large suede sectional, the television turned on. The news glared from the screen, but it was apparently on mute. Barrett couldn’t make out anything the news anchors were saying.

“Hello, son.” His mother’s usual smirk was gone and he could see fear in her eyes, something Barrett had never glimpsed in her in all his life.

“Where is Thisbe?” Barrett asked, staring at Mark. “I did what you asked.”

“She’s asleep in the guest room,” Mark said. “Take a look for yourself.”

Barrett quickly walked down the long hallway to the only closed door. He quietly opened it and sure enough there was a sleeping little girl in the bed. The bed was enormous and she looked incredibly tiny in it. Her dark hair was fanned out on the pillow, her eyes closed with her hands tucked under her cheek. She looked like the sweetest cherub he’d ever seen and he was immediately grateful she was okay. He exhaled. As long as Thisbe was safe, everything else could be worked out.

Barrett softly shut the door behind him and walked quickly back to where his mother and Mark still sat.

“So what the hell do you want?” Barrett said. “How do we end this?”

“I can’t believe you’re so angry,” Mark said. “I
saved
your daughter.”

“How?” Barrett asked. “You scared her parents into killing themselves. You took a little girl. What part of this was saving her? You ruined her life!”

“
I
ruined her life?” Mark stood, his large presence intimidating, but Barrett refused to cower. “You didn’t even know she existed until 48 hours ago. Her life was completely fine. But you decided what you wanted was more important than her happiness.” Mark looked over at Patricia, who was uncharacteristically quiet. “See, Patty? I told you. Your son is a no good, selfish piece of shit.”

Patricia glanced at Barrett, “No, he’s not. Mark, just let him take Thisbe and go. You and I can sort things out.”

Barrett looked at his mother, the woman who was directly at fault for everything happening in this moment. He wanted to hurt her, like she’d hurt him, like she’d hurt Scarlet. But something was off about her right now. Barrett stood there, unsure of what to do and unsure of what Mark would say or do next.

“What do you mean, ‘No, he’s not’?” Mark bellowed. “He’s put you through hell. You’ve cried to me so many nights about this guy and all the pain he’s caused you. All the disrespect he’s shown you.” Mark pointed at Barrett. “This guy has the whole fucking world in the palm of his hand and has never had to struggle a day in his privileged life. He deserves nothing but misery.”

Barrett and his mother looked at one another and Barrett suddenly realized Patricia was as trapped as he was right now.

“Mark, how do we fix this? What’s the end game here? Is this about money?” Barrett asked.

Mark strolled confidently over to Barrett, looking down at the man he’d been hired to drive and protect.

“Money? You think this is about money? No, Barrett, I don’t need your money.  All I need from you are a few simple things.  You’re going to apologize to your mother, for starters. And to me.  And after-“

Barrett interjected. “Apologize? Me apologize? For-“

The slap was blinding in both speed and power, and knocked Barrett to the floor. Patricia gasped at the display of violence from her erstwhile lover. Mark stood over Barrett, who was wiping a trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth.

“You don’t get to interrupt me ever again, you snotty selfish prick!” Mark had rage in his eyes.  “Yes, that’s right. You’re going to apologize to your mother for all you’ve put her through.  And then to me for the way you’ve treated me. Then we’ll figure out how we wrap this up.”

Barrett looked back down the hallway, hoping the noise wouldn’t wake Thisbe.

“Don’t worry, sport, I gave her some Benadryl. You getting slapped around like a little bitch isn’t going to wake her up.”

Barrett made eye contact with his mother, and for maybe the first time in his life he saw genuine emotion there. Unmistakable fear.

Barrett rose to his feet, fists clenched. Mark noticed his aggressive posture and chuckled. “I’m assuming you know a little bit about my background, right Barrett?  Army Ranger. And you’re what, a guy who tried to buy his way into becoming a SEAL? You’re a fucking joke.  If you need some convincing to do the right thing, I’m just the man to motivate you.” 

With that, Mark tossed his sport coat onto the sofa near Patricia and cracked his knuckles. “All it would have taken was for you to swallow your pride. Now you get to swallow a few teeth and wash them down with your ego.”

Mark and Barrett both lunged towards each other at the same time, crashing through a glass coffee table in the center of the room.  The air practically reeked of adrenaline, and Patricia recoiled in horror, backing into the corner of the room.

Mark straddled Barrett, punching his face three and then four times. Barrett rolled beneath the larger man, deflecting the blows, calling on everything he’d learned in the SEAL training he actually legitimately completed. He controlled his breathing and waited for Mark’s rage to overtake his own training and give him an opening. 

When he saw the opportunity, he took it. A quick jab to Mark’s throat and a hook of his legs over Mark’s shoulder and suddenly he was free and both men staggered to their feet.  This time Barrett struck first, two punches followed by a knee and it was Mark’s turn to taste blood.

“Call 9-1-1! Do it now!” Barrett barked the command to his mother and moved to engage Mark again. The two men collided once again, this time Mark head-butting Barrett and shoving him against the wall where his head crashed through the glass of a painting and he slumped to the floor.

“This is over, you cocksucker.  Looks like that little girl’s an orphan after all.” Barrett was vaguely aware that Mark had reached for his discarded coat and was now holding a revolver in his hand. “Not the way I wanted this to end, but it’s for the best, Patty. We can go anywhere with your money.”

Bang!

Bang! Bang!

The shots weren’t as loud as Barrett knew they ought to be in such an enclosed space, and although he’d steeled himself, he felt no pain.  He opened his eyes to see Mark on the floor and his own mother standing nearby, holding a silenced pistol in her hands. The silence after the gun shots was deafening and Barrett stared at his mother in horror.

She was standing over Mark’s body, her gun still pointed at him, her nostrils flaring.

“That son-of-a-bitch,” she said. “Go to hell. Go straight to hell!”

Barrett stood up slowly, “Mom. Where did you…how…”

Patricia looked up at him, tears in her eyes, “He was going to kill you, Barrett. In front of me. To make me pay for dismissing him. For not being with him.”

She dropped the gun on the sofa and collapsed. Barrett wanted to comfort her, but he also wanted to shake her for putting them all through this. And now someone was dead. Actually, three people were dead and one child was left without the only parents she knew.

“What the fuck just happened?” Barrett asked. “What did I walk into here?”

“He showed up with this little girl,” she said. “He said she was your daughter. With Scarlet. Well, that made no sense. Scarlet didn’t have a baby, I told him. But then he said, she did. Secretly. And that when I told you about her being pregnant she confessed to you…” Patricia started sobbing. “I had no idea. I would never have hurt my own granddaughter. And as soon as I saw her it was so obvious she was yours. That hair and her skin. My heart almost stopped beating. She’s so beautiful.”

Barrett sighed, “I don’t believe a word you’re saying. I don’t believe you give a fuck about anyone but yourself. Did you call the police?”

“They’re on their way. Her parents didn’t kill themselves,” Patricia said. “He told me what he did. He put something in their coffee. When he went to see them. And then he put them in the car… To make it look like. Well, you know.” Patricia looked up at her son. “He was a monster, Barrett. I know you think I’m one too, but I didn’t kill him for me. I killed him for you. And Thisbe. I know you don’t want to believe it, but I always want what’s best for you.”

Barrett started punching the numbers in his phone, “You’re right, Mother. I don’t believe that even one little bit.”