True for You (16 page)

With
my ring firmly in place, I walk to the living room. No one’s
there, but before I can ask Jackson about it, there’s a
whirring sound above the house.

“Everett
sent his helicopter.” Jackson comes up behind me, cupping my
shoulders, turning me toward the side yard, and letting go. The
tennis court doubles as a landing zone. “Can you handle
flying?”

“I’ve
never been on one before.” Or a plane.

“Welcome
to the lifestyles of the rich and famous,” he says before
grabbing our bags. My small duffle looks shabby beside his.

I
follow him outside, to the helicopter waiting for us. He helps me
inside, and I put on a large pair of headphones and my seatbelt,
before he climbs in beside me.

Trying
to keep my nervousness at bay, I glance at my husband. His jaw is
hard, like his beautiful eyes, and my stomach flips.

But
then he takes my hand, laces our fingers together, and smiles at me.

Maybe
going back to the real world won’t be so bad.

*** *** ***

Jackson

My
hand is on Bliss’ thigh and her head is resting on my shoulder.
She’s been dozing in and out of sleep since Greenville, South
Carolina. We’d boarded a private jet, and after take-off and a
glass of wine, most likely her first, she’d promptly fallen
asleep.

“Are
we here?”

“Sleeping
Beauty is awake.” I squeeze her leg.

My
gaze zeroes in on the ring on her finger. I’m equal parts happy
and annoyed to see it. It wasn’t made for her, and she deserves
something that was. Then again, seeing the tangible proof of our
marriage makes me feel all proprietary. Possessive.

“Do
you live here?” she asks.

“Not
since I was old enough to move out.”

“Are
you dropping me off?” Her voice has become small and shaky.
This must be familiar for her, to be taken to a strange place with
everything she owns in the world and left on the doorstep like a
package.

“Hell
no.” I wrap one arm around her. “I wouldn’t leave
Cole here, and I can’t stand him.”

“Wow.
It must be bad.”

“You
have no idea,” I mutter as the driver parks by the front door.
I’m in no hurry to get out, so we sit there and wait for either
the driver or someone from the house to come open the door.

“Then
why are we here?”

“Everett
and Kathy want to have dinner with us.” I’m sure there
will be pictures sent to someone who cares, to put it out there that
we’re one big, happy family.

“What
should I call them?”

“What
did you call Everett on the tour?”

“Mr.
Morgan.”

Shit.
Everett doesn’t deserve that kind of respect or subservience
from her. “Call them whatever you want.”

“I
don’t want to get it wrong and—”

The
door opens, and instead of the driver standing there, it’s my
dad.

Damn
it.

“There’s
my pretty daughter-in-law. Come inside,” Everett says, waving
at us.

Bliss
looks at me, and then back at Everett. I’m no help, because I
have no idea what’s going on. One thing I do know—I don’t
trust him at all. He’s never nice, unless he wants something.

Everett
holds out his hand to Bliss and she takes it, leaving the car. I’m
right behind her, taking her hand out of his and pulling her by my
side.

My
dad gives me a dark look. Now that I recognize.

“Hungry,
Bliss?”

“Yes,
sir.” She glances up at me. My dad’s gaze slides over
her, and I want to punch him in the throat. “What about you,
Jackson?”

“I’ve
lost my appetite.” I fix my gaze on Everett. “We won’t
be staying long.”

“Suit
yourself.” He heads inside the house.

After
a beat or two, I follow him, Bliss’ hand still firmly in mine.
She looks pretty, wearing the same outfit she had on the night we got
married, but in this house, it looks cheap and threadbare.

“I don’t
have to eat right now,” she whispers. “Don’t stay
here on my account.”

“Trust
me. We won’t be here a second longer than we have to,” I
say, not bothering to lower my voice. Sure I expect Everett to
backhand me, but I also take comfort in the fact that he’s
never hit me in front of anyone. And Bliss is certainly someone.

Everett
keeps walking and it keeps getting brighter as we draw closer to the
grand room in the center of the house.

“Surprise!”

Bliss
actually screams, and I push her behind me, trying to protect her
from… cameras flash and someone’s kissing my cheek,
patting me on the back and hugging Bliss.

Well-wishers?

My
wife edges closer to me, her body pressed into mine so hard that I
can feel her trembling. There has to be a hundred people in the room,
smiling at us and holding glasses of champagne. The women are dressed
to kill, southern style, and the men are dressed like me, after-work
casual.

Shit.
Bliss is going to stand out… and not in a good way. My mother
breaks from the crowd, diamonds on her ears and hands. Her blond hair
is piled on top of her head. She looks healthy and… oh thank
God, out of her mind on the latest drug prescribed by her “doctor”.

“Oh
my gosh, would you just look at her.” Kathy takes Bliss’
hand from mine and twirls her around. “Isn’t she
adorable?”

The
other ladies in the room, friends of my mother and mothers of the
friends they allowed me to have growing up, rush over. Oohing and
awing over Bliss.

Convinced
that she’s safe, at least for now, I search for a familiar
face, only to find my dad.

Flashing
Everett a grateful look as he passes me a tumbler of bourbon, I say,
“Thank you.”

“Welcome.”
He takes a sip from his glass. “You owe me.”

“For
what—doping up Kathy so she’ll act like a normal person?”
I set the glass down.

“That,
and leaving the tour with her.” He tips his glass in Bliss’
direction. “Not to mention getting married without a pre-nup,
staying married without one, and making me lose a shit-ton of money.”

“That
tour was collapsing on its own, because you decided to bring on one
of your new girls,” I point out.

Everett
grunts. “Callie needed motivation.”

“Callie
needs therapy, because of you.” I need therapy because of him
and my mother.

“Look,
I know we don’t see eye-to-eye, but I’ve never stolen a
dime from you, I’ve never negotiated a bad contract, and I’ve
always had your best interests at heart,” he says, gazing over
the rim of his glass. A familiar move meant to make him look more
thoughtful than he sounds. “Give me some credit, Jackson.”

“I’m
not giving you any more than your fifteen percent.”

I
spot Bliss. She’s wringing her hands together and looking back
at me. She needs me, and we need to leave. I don’t care about
this party, or the pile of presents I just spotted in the corner.

“Don’t.”
Everett grabs my arm and digs his fingers into my skin. “Let
Kathy enjoy this.”

I
jerk out of his grasp. “Don’t. Ever. Touch. Me. Again.”

A
look of admiration enters my dad’s eyes, and I want to puke.
“Good to know Bliss didn’t castrate you. Make sure you
keep her in line.”

“Women
aren’t my enemy, you sorry fucker. You are.” Forcing a
smile onto my face, I plunge into the crowd to get my wife.

Chapter Eighteen

Bliss

The
majority of the women are giving me these fake little smiles. They
remind me of Callie, Jackson’s ex, right before she would say
something cruel to me.

Then
the questions I never thought about answering start.

“How
did the two of you meet?”

“On
the tour.” Better to keep things simple and not elaborate. Most
people will stop asking questions.

“You’re
a singer?”

If
she only knew how bad I sound when I sing. “No.”

Her
brow creases. “Then what did you do?”

Guess
that approach won’t work here.

“What
didn’t she do?” another one says. My face grows hot.

“Shut
up, Courtney.” My “savior” smiles at me. “She’s
just jealous. Ignore her.”

Kathy,
Jackson’s mother, taps my nose. “She’s a college
girl, attending my alma mater, Sweetland.”

“Spring
Break’s over.”

“The
storm shut everything down for a couple of days,” I say,
relieved to be able to not have to resort to lying.

Kathy
shoves a card in my face. “This came for you today, from the
Governor. He’s a special friend of Everett’s.”

I
take it from her. At first glance, I can only make out my name and
Jackson’s.

“What
does it say?”

“Read
it, Bliss.”

“Oh
yes, read it, sugar,” Kathy says, beaming at me like she’s
a proud momma. But she’s not my momma, and I know what she used
to do to Jackson. However, if he can tolerate her, then so can I.
“Attention, everyone. My new daughter-in-law has something to
share.”

The
room goes quiet.

I
look at the card again, but the entire thing is in cursive. The words
blur in front of my eyes.

Jackson
parts the crowd, like Moses parting the sea. Only the sea moves right
back in place after him, and there are mermaids are trying to catch
his attention.

Our
gazes lock, and I want to cry in relief. He’s coming to save
me.

“Let’s
read this together, okay?” he says, wrapping me in his arms.
“She’s very shy, unlike me,” he tells the crowd,
and they laugh. Some of the older ladies sigh.

We
read it together, me not really doing anything, but mumbling along. I
have no idea what I’m reading, because the only thing I’m
aware of is Jackson’s voice in my ear and his scent in my
lungs.

“They
are so cute together, Kathy. I love it.”

“You’ll
have to take her under your wing, and show her the ropes.”

I
don’t want to learn anything from Kathy. “Can we go home
now?”

“Yes.”

We
start to leave, but Jackson’s mother stop us. “Where are
you going?”

“Bliss
is tired.”

“Then
take her to your old room and put her to bed.”

“No.”

Kathy’s
eyes flash, her lips thinning. “Don’t you dare disobey
me.”

Everett
shows up out of nowhere. “Don’t make a scene, darlin’.
All these people are here to see you.”

“And
I see you, showing off your latest floozy.” She grabs my arm
and jerks me to her. “How long have you been sleeping with
him?”

I’m
so shocked that I blurt, “We waited until we got married.”

A
few people, the ones standing the closest to us, snicker.

“Not
my son,” Kathy says, her eyes as black as night. “My
husband, you little slut.”

Jackson’s
face turns livid and before I can defend myself, he growls,
“Apologize, before I cause a scene, and let everyone know what
you really do in Florida.”

“I’m
sorry for assuming you were a slut, like the rest of the girls that
come here,” she sniffs.

Everett
links his arm through his wife’s, tugging her along. I have no
choice but to follow since she won’t let go of me. He doesn’t
stop until we’re in his office, and Jackson closes the door
behind us.

“Unhand,
Bliss,” Everett says, lighting a cigar. “She hasn’t
done anything. It’s all him.”

Jackson
steps in front of his dad. “Still waiting on a real apology,
Kathy.”

Kathy
lets go of me. “Don’t you dare call me that. I’m
your mother.”

“Crystal
Newton is my mother.”

Shrieking,
Kathy slaps Jackson so hard that his head whips to one side.

Without
thinking, I shove her, shouting, “Get away from him.” Her
arms flail, and she falls right on her butt.

“Damn
it, Jackson,” Everett roars, helping his wife up. She clings to
him. “For one night, couldn’t you keep your mouth shut?”

I
see red. I can’t help it. “Don’t you blame Jackson.
You were supposed to keep him safe, and you didn’t.”

“Bliss.”
Jackson takes me by the shoulders, turning me to face him. His
mother’s handprint is a vivid red on the side of his face.
“It’s okay.”

“It’s
not okay,” I cry. “They’re supposed to protect you,
not hurt you and make you hide outside because you’re scared.”
I’m shaking I’m so mad for him.

“It
wasn’t that bad, baby doll.”

“Yes,
it was,” I insist.

How
can he defend them? When the Coreys first started putting their hands
on me, I told everyone and no one believed me, because the Coreys
were such nice people. People who went to church on Sunday, worked
for the government, and went to little league games and dance
recitals, but no one knew the truth. No one but me and the kids
living in that house.

“I
remember how bad it was for you. I remember the bruises on your arm,
and how you couldn’t sit down, because she’d hit you. You
couldn’t even sing a happy song for me, and you were only
eight. Who doesn’t know happy songs at eight years old?”