Войти[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 open the message. It is a series of pictures with no words, and while the number is unfamiliar, I recognize my family at once.
Clicking on the first image, I flip through them, my mouth dropping in horror as the progression of images gets increasingly worse.
In the first one, Jayson is sitting at a table with a large birthday cake covered in sparkling candles. In the next, he is receiving a massive slice of cake dripping with strawberry ice cream. Finally, we have Jayson covered in sticky pink goo, and crumbs on his lips.
In each photo, Michael and Evelyn are sitting side by side, his arm around her shoulders with Jayson snuggled between them. A picture-perfect family. The only problem is, if they were such a perfect family, they’d have never given my son any of that food.
“Oh God,” I dial Michael’s number as quickly as I can, but he doesn’t answer. “Damn it, Michael! I need to know what you fed our child!”
Jayson has always been sickly and weak. We eventually discovered that he has a series of allergies, some of which can be life-threatening. In addition to being lactose intolerant, he also has a gluten sensitivity along with a mild tree nut allergy.
Calling Michael again, I leave a message demanding he call me back as soon as he receives it. I just hope Jayson is okay.
My palms are sweating as an hour passes, and then another. Are they at the hospital? Is my son okay?
Three hours after the mysterious text, I receive a short text message from Michael that reads, “Coming home. Bad traffic. Don’t wait up. Love you.”
Frustrated and alone, I head up to bed. By the time Michael eventually returns and shakes me awake, it’s just after midnight.
“Where were you,” I grumble, turning away from him as I struggle to sit up.
“Don’t be mad, Addy,” he turns me for a gentle kiss. “We were on our way back from the park to come home for dinner when we ran into Evelyn,” he looks genuinely contrite as he adds, “She was distraught. She felt so guilty about how things went this afternoon, and about how she ruined your special day. She was worried you were mad at her.”
My brow creases and he nods, as if my current upset is proof of her words. “See,” he touches my nose gently, smoothing the bridge. “Even mentioning her is making you upset.”
“Try to understand, Addy,” he places a hand on my cheek, turning me towards him. “I couldn’t disappoint her, or Jayson. He was so happy to see her. I’d have been a jerk if I said no. So she took us to dinner on the other side of town,” Michael shrugs as if it were no big deal, “I had no idea it was going to take this long. I was trying to get back to you sooner. Can you forgive me?”
I want to forgive him, it's easier to feel in love and secure in our relationship, but something about this situation doesn’t set well with my heart.
He kisses me again, and I’m tempted to give in, but a nagging thought pokes through my mind and I have to say, “But what about three months ago?” I pull away.
“Hey don’t be like that,” Michael pleads as he explains the situation. He and Jayson had been lonely those three days without me, and then Evelyn called out of the blue. It had been forever since he had heard from her, so he and Jayson went to meet her.
“Evelyn had just arrived the day before that picture was taken,” My husband promises. “After you returned, we were both so happy to see you home, that I forgot to mention that we had gone to the carnival.”
He leans in for another kiss but I hold him back. “You still care about her, don’t you.”
There is a pause a bit longer than a heartbeat before he answers. “Of course not, I love you, Addison Stone. I married you, remember?”
He pulls out his phone and scrolls back in his chat history, showing how 3 months ago, he and Evelyn had a brief chat where he did seem not only very surprised by her contacting him but also very lonely…longing for me.
“Now that we have that settled,” he snuggles into me. “How about we talk about something else,” he kisses my neck. “I was thinking, now that Jayson’s 6 and in school full-time,” he wraps his arms around me pulling me into him. “We could consider having that baby we’ve been talking about.”
The heat of his hands through the fabric of my shirt feels so inviting, and the scent of his cologne mixed with his natural musky scent is intoxicating as he brings me closer, and I melt into him, “That would be…”
A violent cough, followed by the unmistakable sound of retching brings me out of my fog as my natural mothering instincts snap me back to reality.
“Jayson!” I call out, pushing my husband aside to rush to his room. When I get there, he is leaning over his bed, the floor covered in vomit the color of pink.
Ice cream gives him a tummy ache, but never anything like this.
“What did you feed him?” I shout as I scoop my son up and take him to the bathroom to clean him. “What did you do?”
“Just some cake and ice cream, some almonds and….”
“So you gave our son gluten, dairy, AND nuts,” My voice cuts through his excuses as I wrap my son in a blanket, barely pausing for my purse, before I rush out into the rain.
“Sweetie, be reasonable, he was fine before and…”
“And you forgot,” I snap. “Because of her.”
Michael stands speechless, holding an umbrella over our heads as we tuck our son into the back of the car and rush to the hospital.
[Desmond] The nurse’s words still hung hollow in my chest. Gone. Both of them, gone. Jessica and our son, Davin. My heart shriveled into a hard rock. Evelyn did this. She made this happen and now I can’t even make her pay for what she did because the bitch is already dead. Placing my face in my hands, I exhale slowly, the last of my breath leaving me in a long, even path. So that’s it. That’s everything. What is the point of building my empire without legacy? It’s all over. “Are you okay?” I lift my head at the sound of the small, forgotten voice by my side and for a moment, I blink, confused. It’s like a ghost, looking at his face. He has Evelyn’s eyes and golden blonde hair, but the cut of his chin, the angle of his cheek bones, and the cunning edge in his stare are pure Debrassy. He looks so much like my lost brother. Like my grandfather as a child. And I guess, in many ways, like me. This little boy, Jayson Stone, is the last of us. My son. My only living heir. The onl
[Desmond]So this is all that is left of my legacy. The spare. Evelyn’s bastard. His bright blue eyes look up at me with so much awe and uncertainty. But underneath that is a shrewdness so much older than his years. He’s young, but not naive. At six and a half years old, he’s already lost so much of his innocence. He was pulled into this world too soon, not allowed to be a little boy. That’s Evelyn’s fault.She had no business being a mother. I knew that. But that greedy whore never could leave well enough alone.Not that I can do anything about that now. She fucked up and now she’s dead.And I’m stuck with him. The child I never wanted. I told her to get rid of the spawn when I found out she was pregnant, but she insisted on keeping him, seeing her ticket to the Debrassy name. “I won’t marry you,” I had informed her flatly, “That child is yours, not mine. Your problem, your issue. But if you want to continue working for me, you’ll have to get rid of it. Our work has no space for
[Jayson]Adults can’t be trusted. They never stay with you, even when they promise that they will. First my mom left me. She doesn’t want me, she has a new family to love. That crazy little brat calls her mama now. She’s my mama! That little r**@rd bitch shouldn’t get to call her mama. Mama Evelyn told me that she wasn’t my real mom. She even showed me some stupid piece of paper that said SHE was my real mom.”“You’re stupid," I laughed. "That stupid paper doesn’t prove anything!” Didn’t she realize how much her words hurt. If my mother wasn’t my mother then my whole world was a lie. And if none of that is real, then what is real? The thought made my chest tight, like I couldn’t breathe, like my whole body would break apart. But she wouldn’t stop talking. She kept saying that my father wasn't my real father either. "Your real dad is a strong, important man." I told her she was a crazy lying bitch. She smacked me hard for that one, and took away my tablet too. Locked me in my roo
[Michael]“Sir, your wife’s out of surgery,” the ragged nurse announced as she placed a gentle hand on my shoulder. “You can go see her now.” Opening my eyes, a swell of gratitude fills my chest. “And the baby?” She didn’t mention the child and my heart stutters. The nurse looks from me to my son sitting next to me. But Jayson, like usual these days, is entrenched in the world of his game, not registering what is happening around him. My voice is low, hushed as I ask hesitantly. “Please tell me, is the baby alive?”The nurse responds in careful, clipped words. “I’m sorry, sir, but she didn’t survive. The bullet pierced her gestational sack. If she had been delivered immediately, she may have survived, but by the time…”Sorrow and relief filled me in equal measures. That child had been a mistake, one that ruined my marriage, and while I regretted the death of the little one that I was prepared to love no matter how she came to be, I hate to admit that part of me is glad she isn’t go
For a moment, I consider going back into the room where Adam lay dying in his own blood. As unsafe as that room is, how disastrous it would be to find myself caught there, holding my little girl, waiting for death to come through the door, what I’ve come out into might be worse. I had thought I’d make it to the service elevator, or maybe the emergency stairs, but both exits are blocked by broken bodies, their hands loosely clutched to weapons that have fallen from their hands, as their comrades file in over them, creating a mob scene out of Vandersteele Tower executive floor lobby.Clutching Livy even tighter to my chest, I block her ears from the sounds of gunfire and screams as I scan the room for any way out. Maybe, if I head down this hall a bit further, there might be another exit. If Vandersteele Tower is anything like Grant Group’s main office, there are several emergency exits. Nobody wanted to be stuck in a building that could easily switch to a death trap if something drast
Gargling, Adam stumbles, his hand grasping his stomach as he falls to his knees, his body slamming into the ground with a bone-shattering force. If my captor feels it, he doesn’t show it on his face, which is blank with shock and confusion, as if he isn’t sure how he ended up on the ground when just a moment ago he was charging towards my little girl. Wrapping my arms protectively around Olivia, I hold her shaking body to my chest. She’s only 6 years old. I’m not sure there is enough therapy in the world to help her overcome this moment of terror. She was just driven to pick up a gun to protect herself and the only woman she’s called mama since the death of her real mother, Jane. The wound may have been accidental, but the sight of this man dying because she threw a gun at him in fear and self-defense will stick with her. Like every other wound she’s received this year at the hands of Debrassy and his men. The weight of that thought settles heavy around my shoulders. Vanessa Vander







