Jack (The Family Simon Book 2) (24 page)

She shook her head and got to her feet. “No, take it. I’ve got a phone call of my own to make. Brett’s parents will want to be here.”

He glanced down and saw that it was a text from one of his aides, Jonathan Grimes, an up and comer with a good head on his shoulders. The message was short and to the point.

Derek is MIA. Office inundated. How do you want this handled?

There was a link included, and after a few moments Jack clicked it. Once he was done reading all that was there, he fucking wished he’d never done it.

It was nearly four in the morning when Donovan heard a vehicle in the driveway. Jack’s parents had returned much earlier, subdued with the news of Brett’s trip to the hospital. They’d bundled up the twins and taken them back to the Campbell home so that Harry and Morgan could sleep in their own beds.

Neck sore from sleeping on the sofa, Donovan got to her feet and padded across the floor so that she could peek out the back window.

It was Jack’s truck. He hugged Sabrina and then waited a bit before heading up to the house. By the time he reached the back door, Donovan had turned on a few lamps and was waiting for him.

Her entire body was a jumble of nerves, and she knew her time was up. There was nothing between her and the truth anymore.

The door squeaked open, and Jack stilled when he caught sight of her. For a moment their eyes held, and then his slid away as he came inside and closed the door behind him.

“How’s Brett?” she asked softly.

Jack shrugged and didn’t answer right away. He crossed over to the fridge and grabbed himself a beer. He was about to open it when he shoved it onto the counter and proceeded over to the liquor cabinet. Scotch in hand, he took a swig directly from the bottle, and then another before he bothered to look at her.

“Not good.”

Unsure, Donovan’s hands ran along the top of the counter.

“Is he—“

“He’s not coming home,” Jack said harshly. “Not coming home,” he said again, so low she barely heard him.

“I’m sorry,” she said.

“Yeah,” Jack replied, taking another swig of scotch. “So am I.”

He crossed the room and stood in front of the closed blinds, staring at nothing. Pain radiated off of him, but Donovan was frozen, her feet felt as if they were encased in concrete.

“Did you catch the news tonight?” he asked abruptly, though he never turned to her.

“No.”

Okay. He was scaring her. Really scaring her. Thoughts racing, she took a step. Or two.

But then he turned back, his eyes so dark they looked like liquid coal. He looked tired. Haunted. This man that she loved. Donovan made a noise and started forward, but he shook his head, eyes shiny, mouth grim.

“Don’t.”

One word was all it took for Donovan to know the jig was up. He knew.

“Oh god,” she whispered.
He knew.

Jack shoved his hand into the front pocket of his shorts and pulled out his cell. She watched him scroll through it, her heart beating out of her chest and when he tossed it to her, she nearly dropped it.

He turned away from her again, and her gaze dropped to the message he’d opened.

Derek is MIA. Office inundated. How do you want this handled?

“Click on the link.” His voice was rough and low and so full of anger that it made Donovan wince.

Her fingers didn’t seem to work, but she finally managed to click on the link, one that led her to a report from the
Hollywood Tattler
website. There was a photo of Donovan and Jack from years ago and a smaller picture of Derek just underneath. Bile rose as she read the headline and blurb.

Donovan Does Derek. Reported sex tape being offered up, showcasing the singing sensation doing the nasty with Derek McKenzie, campaign manager to her on-again, off-again boy toy, Jack Simon. Makes us wonder, here in Tattler land, are Jack and Donovan officially off after their relationship heated up again?

Donovan read it over and over and over. It was as if her mind was stuck, and she just couldn’t move forward.

“Is it true?” he asked, still not looking back at her.

What to say to that?

I woke up naked with him inside me, but I don’t remember anything before that? He took pictures and video and used it to make me leave you? He blackmailed me with them? Made me promise to never see you again or he’d destroy your career?

How did she explain all that? How did she tell the man she loved that yes, I had sex with your best friend. Once she said those words the rest wouldn’t matter.

“You don’t have to say anything.”

Donovan’s head whipped up, and she found him looking at her. No longer were his eyes dark and shiny. They were hard and angry.

“Did you take the test?” he asked.

“What?”

“Are you pregnant?” he asked again.

Donovan winced at the tone. At the utter lack of emotion in his voice. “Yes,” she answered, holding his gaze. “I took the test.”

Jack’s hand fisted at his side, and he took another good swig of scotch. “And?”

“It said I was pregnant.”

Silence greeted her news, and Donovan slid onto the large overstuffed chair to her right. Her legs had nothing left in them, and she was just about done. Everything from the past few weeks—hell the last several months—hit her in the gut, and she thought that she was going to pass out.

“Take another one when you get back to LA, and we’ll talk then.”

“That’s it?” she said dully.
“It’s all I got.”

The pain in her chest was so tight that she clawed at her T-shirt in order to alleviate some of the distress. Gasping for air, she started to get up from the chair, but she had no energy. She didn’t even recognize her own voice when she finally managed to speak.

“You said that you loved me enough to handle the truth. You said that Jack. You said that.”

Oh God. She was going to lose it. She sounded pathetic.

Jack regarded her in silence. And just when it had spread way too thin and way too long he spoke.

“I was wrong.”

His threw the bottle of scotch across the room, and she jumped when it shattered against the windows and blinds. His breathing was erratic, and she knew that he was barely holding his anger in check. Coco appeared from nowhere and began to bark, but with one look, Jack silenced the little dog. He shook his head, eyes grim and dead.

“Fucking the guy I considered my best friend is something I apparently can’t get past.”

He strode past her and scooped up the beer he’d abandoned earlier. Hand on the door he paused. “Get Maverick to take you home. I’ll be in touch. If you’re pregnant, I’ll deal with it. I’m not the guy who will abandon his kid.”

Donovan fell back into the soft cushions. She was done. There were no more tears left inside her.

“What the hell?” Maverick took the stairs two at a time, eyes sweeping the entire room.

“He knows,” she said dully.

Maverick paused near her, his hand on the chair as he looked down at her. “You told him?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“Then how?”

“I don’t know. There are reports online. It’s out there. For all I know there are….” Her voice broke. “There are pictures and video of me spread all over the internet. How am I going to deal with that? I’m so ashamed, Rick. Cooper was right. I’m no good for him.”

“What the hell does Cooper have to do with this?” Maverick looked fierce, with his long hair all askew and his intense dark eyes.

“He has the thumb drive.. I don’t know how, but he…he must have released it to the press just like he told me he would.”

“I’m going to kill him. What a fucking mess,” Maverick growled. He paused. “Look. Don’t worry about anything right now. I’ve got you looked after. I’m going to get you home, and then we’ll figure this out.”

“Can we leave now?”

The thought of facing Jack’s parents made her nauseous, and all she wanted to do was climb into her bed and disappear.

“Yeah,” Maverick replied, hand on her shoulder. “We can leave now.”

Three days later, Donovan was ensconced inside her home in Los Angeles with a crap-ton of paparazzi camped outside, when Maverick called to let her know that Brett had passed away.

“How’s Sabrina?” she asked, heartbroken for the woman.

“I don’t know her real well, but from what I could see, she’s one tough lady.”

“Are you going up for the funeral?”

“No. They wanted a small private ceremony, though Jack and his parents are still up there.” Silence filled her ear. “I talked to Cooper, finally. He says he’s not the one responsible for the leak.”

For the past three days, the news outlets had sensationalized every aspect of Donovan and Jack’s story. Derek and the supposed sex tape were mentioned in each and every one. But so far no actual photos, or videos for that matter, had surfaced. As for Donovan, she wasn’t talking to anyone, not even her publicist.

“Does it really matter?” she said eventually.

“Hell yes. Don’t you want to know who threw you under the bus like that? I sure as hell do.”

“I’ve got other things to focus on, Rick.” Like the second positive pregnancy test.

“You haven’t heard from Jack, I take it?”

“No.”

Silence. “Shit, I gotta go, Donnie. I’ll be out of town for a few days. A business meeting with some foreign distributors for this indie film. Beau will be there, and we want to get this nailed down now.”

“I’m okay. Don’t worry about me, really.”

“I’ll come see you when I get back.”

Donovan hung up the phone, eyes on the second pregnancy test she’d taken the day before. The one that told her without a doubt she was pregnant.

She sat in her oversized comfy chair for hours, only getting up to grab some food and then slide right back into her spot. She sat there until the shadows grew long and her bedroom was so dark it was hard for her to see. Until all the chaotic thoughts in her head went away, and she was finally left with a clarity that she needed.

She was going to have a baby. A baby she’d made with the man that she loved. She might not have much, but she did have that. It was time for her to stop feeling sorry for herself and start acting like an adult.

She picked up the phone from beside her bed and made an appointment to see her personal doctor. After a few moments, she dialed another number. It was time to face a few ghosts from the past and do what she’d always done. Just get the hell on with it.

“Mama? We need to talk.”

Jack flew into Florida two days after his buddy Brett’s funeral. He picked up his Mercedes from valet parking and didn’t bother driving to the beach or his house. Grace had taken Coco home with her, so at least the little ball of fur didn’t need looking after.

That was good. He had someone to see first.

He drove in silence. The anger that boiled beneath his skin told him he was alive, even if he felt as if he’d been through the ringer. He was sick of the press. Sick of the media circus that had landed in his lap. And he sure as fuck was sick of Derek McKenzie calling his cell.

He was about to put that puppy to rest.

He drove through the familiar streets of Cypress Hill, giving a mental finger to a bunch of paparazzi near the entrance to the gated community. It boasted one of the nicest golf courses around, and when he parked in the driveway of 101 Cypress Lane, Jack hopped out of the car, tossed his ball cap onto the passenger seat and ran up the steps without pause.

His body was full of adrenaline and he clenched his fists as a fresh wave of anger rolled over him. He banged on the door. Once. Twice. And was just about to beat the hell out of the heavy oak panels when it swung open.

Derek McKenzie looked like shit and smelled worse.

“Hitting it pretty hard aren’t you?” Jack said roughly, pushing past Derek.

“Well hello to you,” Derek said, bloodshot eyes following Jack as he strode through the foyer.

“Where’s Janice?” Jack asked.

“She’s been gone for days.” Derek slurred his words and took another swig of whatever the hell was in his glass.

“Good.” Jack was guessing his wife wasn’t coming back.

Jack took a moment because right now he was overloading on emotion. This guy right here…this guy used to be like family to him. Those kinds of ties didn’t just disappear. Even when adulthood brought new perspective.

“Jack, I…buddy—“

“Shut the fuck up, Derek. I don’t want to hear it. Don’t apologize to me, because I’m not here for that. I just want to know the truth. Did you screw Donovan?”

Derek thrust his chin forward and attempted a smile, but he was so wasted it came off more like a sneer. “She wanted it.”

Red hot fury momentarily blinded Jack, but he got his shit together. He needed to do this.

“When?” he barked.

“That last night. The four of us were together, and then you and Donovan had a fight. Janice left because she had a fucking headache, and I stayed and listened to Donovan whine and cry.” He shrugged and staggered to the left, dropping his glass. “What can I say? She was a horny bitch, so I gave it to her.”

Jack took a step forward, and Derek laughed. “That’s right. I stuck it to that bitch more than once.”

Jack’s fist swung out, and he took Derek down with one heavy punch.

“Jesus fucking Christ,” Derek shouted, scrambling to his feet and yelping when he cut the palm of his hand in the shattered glass on the tile. “What the hell did you do that for?”

Jack raised his fist, ready to smash the bastard’s face again.

“I did you a goddamn favor. Don’t you see? She was fucking trash from Arkansas. What the hell does someone like us want with someone like that?”

Unease slid through Jack. Derek’s choice of words didn’t sit right.

“What do you mean, you did me a favor?”

Derek rubbed his bloody hand over his forehead and leaned against the wall, chest heaving from his effort to stay on his feet.

“Monique. Now she’s the type of woman to get you all the way to the White House. Not some white trash, honkytonk from Arkansas.”