[Addison]
It is hard to keep my smile from cracking as Michael approaches, but somehow I manage to keep my expression sunny as I make my way over to my family.
“Addy,” Michael said, out of breath, placing a hand on my shoulder and frowning as he looked up at the decorations. “Why are you here? I thought you had a case to work on.”
“I promised Jayson we’d have a special day,” I replied with a grin, glancing down at my son, who was clinging to Evelyn’s hand, avoiding my gaze. “So I shifted things around. I mentioned it last week…”
“It’s fine,” Michael interrupted, his voice casual. “I just wasn’t expecting you. I was in the neighborhood when I learned Evelyn was interviewing nearby.” He smiled at her, his tone overly friendly for two people who clearly had a past.
“Mommy, why are you ruining my birthday?” Jayson’s voice cracked with anger as he looked up at me. “Mama Evelyn was going to take us for ice cream! And a barbecue! And get me presents…”
I blinked, shocked. “Mama Evelyn?” I raised an eyebrow, glaring at Michael, who blushed and quickly looked away. “Excuse me?”
“It’s just a silly nickname,” Evelyn quickly dismissed, kneeling to hug Jayson. “Right, little bear?”
Jayson smiled, leaning into her embrace, and my heart sank. He never cuddled with me like that anymore.
“I made your favorite dinner, and we have treats waiting at home. You can’t have ice cream, remember?” I said, trying to keep my voice light.
“You never let me do ANYTHING!” Jayson shouted, pushing me out of the way as he ran off towards the playground where the other students were coming out for recess.
Michael’s face turned red with frustration. “I’ll get him back here,” he grumbled, storming off after Jayson.
“Michael, remember, he’s just a kid,” I called after him, but he was already gone. If I weren’t in these impractical heels, I’d have followed them.
“Oh, let them be,” Evelyn said, crossing her arms. “Michael knows how to handle him.”
I turned to her, my patience thin. “This is a family matter. I don’t see how it concerns you.”
Smiling sheepishly, Evelyn holds out her hand. “I guess I haven’t introduced myself. I’m Evelyn Valentine, an old college friend of Mikey,” she uses my husband’s old nickname and I cringe. Nobody’s called him that since college.
“Oh, I know who you are,” I smile back, struggling to keep my tone civil. “Michael told me all about you before we got married.”
Her face blanches and her smile fades but only for a moment before she tosses her long blonde hair over one shoulder, showcasing her elegant swan-neck as she flashes me an even more dazzling smile. “Silly me, of course.”
She then tilts her head to one side, then the other. “It’s strange how much you look like me,” she laughs, “We could almost be sisters. Wouldn’t that be something?”
It feels like she’s trying to press salt into a wound as if I needed it pointed out that I’m like a poor copy of the original. The first time I found her picture in his wallet by accident, I cried.
“It’s just a memory from the past,” he had told me just before covering it with our wedding photo. “See, now it’s fixed.”
Michael had convinced me that he preferred how much down-to-earth and approachable I am. But now, standing next to her, I feel…faded, plain, dull.
Taking a deep breath, I set my smile again and try my best to be pleasant. “So, you’re staying in town for a while?”
“Oh yes, I’m actually going to be a teacher at this school,” her eyes flash brightly as she confesses her exciting news. “That means I’ll be seeing both Michael and Jayson a lot more. I hope this won’t be a problem.”
Her tone isn’t exactly unfriendly, but it doesn’t feel kind either. As I stand there, not sure what to say, her lips curve at the edges, daring me to say something.
I don’t even get a chance to respond before Michael calls me. “Jayson is still upset. I think I need to calm him down first. I’ll bring him home later.”
Guilt creeps in—did I upset Jayson just now? I frown and ask, “All right. You’ll be back for dinner, right?”
Michael assures me before quickly hanging up.
With a sigh, I have no choice but to drive home alone.
On the way, my mind drifts to the past. I’ve been by Jayson’s side ever since Michael brought him home—an abandoned baby left in a basket by the dumpster.
I fell in love with him instantly. From the moment his little eyes locked with mine, I became his mother.
He was a sickly child, with so many issues and illnesses, so I put my career on hold to stay near him, working part-time at Michael’s firm. We even put off having more children so that Jayson could have all of our attention.
“Let’s wait,” he asked the last time I brought up the subject. “Just a little while longer.”
I agreed to wait before having a child of my own because I wanted to give Jayson all the love he deserves.
As soon as I get home, I head straight to the kitchen to make a snack for my son when he comes back home.
“I’ll leave them in his room, near his new presents, so he can have both at the same time.”
As I finish arranging the food on his plate, my phone beeps.
It's a text from Michael. “Sorry babe, I didn't want to disturb you.Jayson is starving so I've taken Jayson for a quick dinner. See you at night.”
“Oh,” I look around at the party I’ve prepared. Balloons and streamers decorate every surface, and a pile of presents sits next to the table.
“I guess we’ll meet up at dinner," I sigh, as I walk around the house, picking up Jayson’s things from school.
I feel guilty about how the afternoon started. I wanted to make it special, but I seem to have just made things worse.
Maybe if I leave him a little treat he'll forgive me.
Smiling at the thought of his reaction when he finds the treat, I place one of his favorite allergen-free cupcakes on his nightstand to find later when he gets home.
But my skirt knocks over the book of fables that Michael reads to Jayson every night at bedtime. Carefully I pick it up, trying to preserve the page they marked with a long thin piece of paper.
“Where did they…?”
As I pick it up to put it back into the book, I notice It’s one of those long strips of photos you get from a photo booth. Micahel is holding Jayson on his shoulders and standing next to a smiling blonde woman who looks up at both of them with love and affection.
“Mommy and Daddy,” the picture says on the back. The time stamp on the corner says this image was taken 3 months ago.
Except that the "mommy" isn’t me.--It’s Evelyn.
What is going on?
[Addison]What was happening three months ago when I didn’t notice my husband sneaking off with our son to have adventures with his “old friend?”My heart sinks like a stone as I remember. I was in Brooklyn taking care of my sick grandmother, arranging for her nursing care. I was gone for three days. Every night, I called home to say good night, no matter how tired I was. Never once did he mention Evelyn. If I hadn’t shown up today when I did, would he have ever let me know she is back?I send a text with a quick snapshot of the photo strip. I type the word “explain.”Sitting there, staring at the screen, waiting for a response, my head tips back and I lean against Jayson’s bed. My body feels heavy so heavy that I close my eyes.When I open them again, the room is dark, the phone vibrating against my chest waking me. I must have fallen asleep because the clock now reads 8 pm. “Michael!” I open my phone hurriedly only to discover a text from an unknown number. Tapping the screen, I o
[Addison]My little boy looks even smaller in a hospital bed with an IV attached to his arm. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Stone, but your son’s condition is serious. He is suffering from an intense allergic reaction,” the Doctor’s face is grim. “If he had gotten here an hour sooner, we could have prevented the severe dehydration. We were lucky this time that the reaction wasn’t worse.” “Worse?” My voice warbles as Michael looks away, unable to my gaze. “How much worse?”“If he had developed anaphylaxis, he’d be dead,” the doctor’s tone. “You’re lucky his heart didn’t stop on the way here. As it is, he’ll need to remain in the hospital for 24 hours for observation.” Our son could have died, all because my husband couldn’t bear to disappoint his ex-girlfriend. Michael volunteers to pay the bill and grab the new prescription for an emergency epi-pen. “I’ll be back soon, I promise,” he kisses the top of my head before rushing out of the room as if the sight of our sick son could chase him down the
[Addison] The door to the car clicks open. An expensive Italian loafer is followed by the pinstriped leg of an elegant and sophisticated man. He towers over me, at least 7 inches taller and twice as wide, his strong arms and shoulders barely contained within the jacket of his well-tailored suit. From the Rolex at his wrist to the studs in his ears, and the ring gleaming on his hands, everything is diamond bright, as sharp and fine as the cut of his square chin and the angle of his high cheekbones. “Excuse me,” his smooth voice, deep and rich, rumbles through my body, as he removes his sunglasses and looks at me with eyes so blue they appear almost black. “I can take her from here.” Holding out his hands, his cold facade melts as he looks at the little girl with such love and concern that I find myself melting as well. But she doesn’t go to him, she clings to me even tighter. “Mom,” the little girl murmurs, burying her head into my chest. “I found my mommy.” “You little monster
[Addison]Everything hurts, especially my head which aches as I open my eyes and turn my head. Michael is sitting next to me, his eyes bright with excitement as he reaches forward and pulls my hand towards his, kissing it gently. “Oh good, you’re awake,” he grins brightly, “You had me worried.”“Michael, what happened?” the strange lights burn my eyes as I blink awake. “How did I end up in the hospital? I…” “You’re pregnant, Addy!” The smile on his face widens as he scoots closer to the bed. “After all this time! Can you believe it!”Pregnant? I can’t be pregnant. I was going to leave Michael, but if I’m pregnant, that changes everything. “The doctors say you are entering your third month,” his joy shines brightly, as he babbles about all of the things he wants to do for our new little one–designing a nursery and getting all the best things. “We need to set up your prenatal appointments and get a baby monitor and find a nanny and….” He wants to be a father again so badly. I was so
[ Addison ] The violent sound of tires screeching around the corner wakes me as my body jerks upward, slamming into the backseat with so much force that I feel I might be sick.Inhaling deeply, the scent of mold and stale cigarettes makes my nausea worse. Swallowing bile I fight not to throw up, my stomach churning as we hit another bump.“Oh look who’s awake,” a familiar voice coos. Twisting my head, I see Evelyn sitting in the car, not bound like me. She’s not gagged, her face untouched. She looks fresh, almost jubilant. What is she doing here?Where’s Jayson? Where’s my son? Was he hurt?“Looking for Jayson?” she smirks, ripping the tape from my mouth. A tear rolls down my cheek as the tape pulls at my skin.“Where’s my son?” I cry, glaring at her. “What did you do to him? He’s just a child!”“He’s fine,” the driver interrupts curtly. “He’s at home.”Evelyn pulls out her phone and shows me a picture of Jayson playing with the nanny. “See? Nothing to worry about.”“Where are you ta
[Addison]"What a shame," the man from the shadows steps forward and I finally get a good look at the goon who drove the car. He is handsome in a traditional kind of way, slick like second-rate CEO with his slicked back hair and tailored suit. Wheh he grins, he shows too many teeth, like a monster lurking in the dark.Kneeling before me, he grabs my chin and turns it from side to side. "Such a pretty little thing. It looks like you've been discarded. Just another broken doll."His breath is hot on my neck as he leans forward, his hand snaking down the front of my blouse. "I like broken things."Crying for him to leave me alone I spit in his face, a mixture of saliva, snot, and blood. He laughs, cutting the binding at my feet so he can push his body between my legs, not caring about the trail of blood.I kick and buck, screaming as he grabs my breast squeezing, another hand reaching up my skirt as he laughs at my efforts. "So much fight left! Good, I get to break you some more..."The
[Addison]“I’m so sorry, Addison,” the doctor placed a hand on my shoulder as she said her farewells. “Would you like us to call your husband or would you…”Shaking my head I told her not to bother. If he had cared about me or this child he’d have saved us in the warehouse. He’d have come back for us, or at least checked in on me after he was informed I was taken to the hospital. But I haven’t heard or seen anything of my husband in the three days I’ve been in the hospital receiving blood transfusions and recovering from the miscarriage and injuries. My body is slowly starting to heal–but my broken heart and shattered mind will never be the sameI am trapped within the loop of memories as I struggle to make sense of what happened that night. My son was so desperate to go outside and play, more insistent than usual. He was so persistent and didn’t ease up until we went out together only to have him run off away from me and out of sight as soon as I opened the door.Why? And then the
[Addison]The man steps forward into the light carrying an impossibly large bouquet of lilies in a fine, crystal vase. As our eyes connect, a warm wave of gratitude rolls through me as I recognize him instantly. “It’s you,” I murmur, my heart lifting. “The man from the warehouse.”The gentleman frowns, his face pinched with worry. “You must be mistaken. I haven’t been to any warehouses recently.” I know I’m not mistaken. The man in the warehouse took off his mask as he caught me. He looked just like him. The same eyes, the same jawline. “I’m sure I’m not mistaken. You’re the one who rescued me from the kidnappers.” His laughter is like a clear, brass bell that rings through the room. “Mrs. Stone, I assure you that you are mistaken. You were rescued by a special-ops unit that was investigating those kidnappers for having mob connections. I am not a federal agent,” he shakes his head. “Far from it, I run a multi-billion dollar trading company. I’ve never stepped foot in a warehouse.”
[Hunter]In a suit and tie, my tattoos are invisible, allowing me to be the person the investors expect me to be while I run the day to day workings of a fortune 100 company. As far as the upstanding part of NYC business is aware, Hazardous and Hunter Grant are not the same person. I work hard to keep my two lives separate. Just like DeBrassy does with his identity, Mr. D., we both know who the other man is, but in the boardroom, we pretend not to be criminals, and in spaces like these, we are done pretending. Here, we get to be the beasts we truly are.In some ways, this criminal underworld is more real than reality. It's more visceral, sensual, and alive. Nothing is off limits. Everything is possible. For some, it can be paradise. For others, Hell. And as far as I'm concerned, it's the furthest place I ever want Addy or Livy to be. I never want them to know this side of me, to see the gutters I need to swim in to preserve their safe world.Because tonight I dance with the devil to
[Hunter]Addison shines like a gem tonight, an elegant professional speaking with other like-minded people passionate about the same type of work. She was born to this. She might not realize it yet, but this is where she was always meant to be. She's standing next to the professor, laughing at something another legal guru from one of the finest firms in NYC said, meeting his verbal jabs with equal skill. Seeing her like this makes my heart feel lighter. After everything she's been through to get to this point, she deserves to be the bright star of this evening. I wish I could spend it with her. But I need to take care of business--dark dealings with the type of sinister low-lifes I plan to keep her from ever encountering. I would never want this filth to tarnish her shine. Silently signaling my lieutenant, I pretend to take a work call and excuse myself, leaving Addison in Charley's careful care. "I might not be back," I apologize. "This is a big deal, we can...""We can check in la
[Michael]The grim armed woman takes a step forward, blocking me from Addison's view."It's time for you to go, Mr. Stone," she repeats. "Now." Standing my ground, I refuse to move. She won't shoot me, not in front of all these people, all these lawyers. She'd be thrown behind bars. "Grant Group has a restraining order placed against you, Mr. Stone, and if you do not leave the premises immediately, I am authorized to use force if necessary." The woman tilts her head, watching, waiting for an excuse to follow through on her promise. Hundreds of eyes are watching us, hearing everything as we spill our family secrets on the floor of this grand ballroom, our words flying to smash into one another.Addison is angrier than I've ever seen her, an avenging angel, glaring at me with eyes of burning steel. Next to her is a tall, dark-skinned woman who, unlike the rest of those gathered, wears a no-nonsense suit, her hand hovering over a gun.She means business. And her business, from her sta
[Addison]“Oh, it looks like I’m late,” my ex-husband laughs, his hands in his pockets as he surveys the scene. “And with so many of my friends here, too. Hi Steve,” Michael waves to a man standing by the bar. "How's Cheryl?" Swaggering into the room, my ex parts the crowd until he's standing only a few feet away. Looking above my head, he sees the sign saying "Happy Divorce Day," and he smirks, his eyes flashing with sarcastic mirth. "Really, Addy? Just come home already. This game is getting old." Reaching forward, Michael holds out his hand to take mine. Taking a step back, I glare as I look around the room. Hunter is gone, Carter is now missing, and Charley is doing her best to make it to my side without causing an even bigger scene. I'm alone. "Michael, this isn't a game," I try to keep my voice low, even though this has already drawn the attention of most of the people in the room. "And I have a restraining order. You shouldn't be here right now. Why are you here?"Michael
[Michael][Earlier that evening]I can't wait to get the heck out of this office. Jayson's at my mother's for the weekend. I couldn't bear to be around my son after receiving the note from my attorney telling me that not only was my evidence rejected, but that my wife, MY WIFE, has been granted her divorce appeal without making any of the concessions I requested.Not only that, but her nosy old law professor, Dr. McCannon, filed a restraining order against me on her behalf. I was shocked to learn that tough old lizard is still alive. He's got to be what, like 102?Evelyn is out tonight, something about needing to see Mr. D, so I'm here, trying to see if there isn't some way I can contest the divorce. I mean, it can't be over, can it? Not really. Addy wouldn't leave me. She promised she'd stay with me forever. Until death do us part. "Sir," my new secretary, Cindy, saunters in. Mr. D sent her over, said my last one was "offensive." She places a whiskey sour next to my mousepad, and I
[Addison]The sharply-dressed young man holding me in his arms has a swoonworthy smile warm enough to melt hearts. Pretty like a model, his features are an exotic blend of cultures with full, soft lips, high, sharp cheekbones, and wide, cola-colored eyes that sparkle with amusement as he glances at me through a curtain of straight auburn brown hair. “It’s a good thing I was here to catch you,” he grins slyly, although his voice is bright with concern. “Are you okay, Miss…?"“Ms. Archer,” I hold out my hand to shake. “Addison Archer,” I nod in the direction of the congratulations sign. “The new divorcee.” “Ah,” his grin brightens. "Perfect, you're just the person I was sent to look for." Helping me stand, he takes my hand and bows over it in a very formal gesture of respect. "On behalf of my law firm, I'd like to take this opportunity to introduce myself. My name is Adam. Adam Wright. I work for CCRP Law Group, and we heard you have potential." He pulls a card from the inner pocket
[Addison]Mr. Carter introduced me to his fiancée, Kate, and we hit it off immediately. She’s classy, smart, and has a knack for noticing the small things that others miss and pointing them out to me with no small amount of hilarity. “So you see how she’s walking with a slight hesitation on her left leg,” my new friend points out a beautiful red head with hair with bright blue eyes, and a tight white gown. “Her date, Mr. Danvers, has a thing for dancers. Likes his girls…flexible,” she smirks. Realising her implications, I gasp. “But he’s at least 80!” “Well, love knows no age.” The edge of her lip twists upward as a demure eyebrow lifts just slightly. “Look again, see how broad the shoulders are on his suit? When he was a young man, he was a star polo player and rugby champion. It was 50 years ago, but I bet he still keeps fit.”Blushing, I struggle to NOT think about what she is suggesting as she leads me towards the entrance, where I am surprised to see another friendly face. “Tr
[Hunter]“HUNTER NO!!!!!!!”Addison is screaming, her voice gut-wrenching, as with eyes open but not conscious, she grabs my chest. Holding her close to my heart, I soothe her, saying her name and rubbing her back as I kiss her hair, rocking back and forth.“Addison! Addy! It’s okay.” She is so terrified, so lost and unaware of what is real and what isn’t. It is a trauma response, one I’ve seen in survivors before. Whatever happened to her as a child must have been worse than she has told me. Something so bad she can't even let herself remember it fully. I know that feeling. I have them too.“Please, Addy, come back to me," I beg, forcing my voice to stay strong even though a part of me wants to hide in a corner with her. "I've got you. You're safe." It takes several minutes for her eyes to focus and her face to show signs of recognition. “Hunter, you’re not dead?”“Shh,” I move one of her strands of hair behind her ear. Her elegant updo is a bit mussed now, making her look even more
[Addison]Standing at the top of the stairs, I feel like a princess waiting to enter the ballroom and meet her handsome prince. My hands are shaking as I grip the railing. What if he doesn’t like the dress?What if he does? Taking a deep breath, I make my slow descent, my silver pumps clicking delicately on the marble floors.The dress Charley helped pick out is a periwinkle blue made of a beautiful sequined fabric that casts rainbows as I move. The bodice is a fitted corset with a neckline so low, I have to be taped into it to stay in place, and it flairs out over my hips into a full circle skirt that reaches down to my knees. The whole dress is covered in hand-beading, giving it a nice weight and an expensive feel. Charley wouldn’t let me see the price tag. Not after how I reacted when I saw the additional cost of the jewelry. Instead of a traditional string of pearls or a sensible scarf, I’m wearing a body cage in the shape of a cape, dripping jewels from my neck in every direct