Page 114 of Counterfeit Connection

“Sometimes, all the best intentions in the world can’t keep the ones we love safe. You can do everything right and it still crumbles around you. Don’t waste time.”

“You sound like you’re speaking from experience.”

Jason looks down at his hands, specifically at his wedding ring. “I am. Second chances don’t come along every day, especially when you excel at self-sabotage. Clearly, you love her.”

“Without question.”

“I’ll handle your father and all that goes with it. Trust me. Now sober up and I’ll take you to her.” Jason looks back at me. “You hurt her by choosing for her then pushing her away.”

“What if she won’t forgive me?”

“You’ll never find out sitting here on your arse.”

After one of the best, yet worst, showers of my life, I passed out on my bed for about six hours. I think I heard Jason now and again on his phone, he was talking, and at some points yelling, to someone on the other end. My drunken dreams came to an end when Jason woke me to say it was time to leave. It took me a moment not to only realize where I was and what was going on, but also realize I’m moving. My feet, although sluggish, are moving. I have purpose again.

I’m the walking definition of lipstick on a swine as I slide my sunnies on when we hit the lobby of my building. The sun nearly makes me sick because of how bright it is. Jason chuckles as he climbs behind the wheel of the driver’s seat after slamming the boot so hard I feel it in my eyeballs.

“Was that necessary?” I ask.

“No, but it was fun.” He chuckles under his breath.

I recline my seat to catch a few more minutes of sleep on the way out to the airport. As we approach the gate to the private field, Jason nudges me. “Shaw. Your code.”

“Oh, right.” I sit up straight and adjust my suit coat as we pass the guards onto the strip.

My hangar is deep in the field. As we approach, I see Tobias climbing down the stairs from inside. My hangover subsides long enough to get out of the car and approach him in a semi straight line.

“Glad to see you’re somewhat alive.”

“No thanks to you, arsehole.”

“Right. I’m the arsehole. Take down your glasses.”

“Why?”

“I need to make sure you look good enough to do what we need to do next.”

I look over at Jason curiously. “Don’t look at me. I’ll be waiting on board. We’ll depart soon as you’re finished inside.”

My gaze pans to my right, finding our hangar bay open with rows of chairs filled with reporters. Some I know, some I loathe. “What the fuck?” I whisper close to Tobias’s ear.

“Trust me. Trust Bianca. Stand at her side. She’s got this one covered.”

Somewhere over the Atlantic, I startle awake. I don’t know how long we’ve been in the air. Jason is quietly napping in a seat across from me. My thoughts are finally free from the amber liquid I used to dull every emotion I have. Somehow, right now, things feel clear. Tobias asked me to trust him and my mother. I did. Now, I need to trust what my gut is telling me. I’m going to follow her advice, and she knows it. I hope it’s enough.

Down to my right and embedded in the shelf next to me is the satellite phone system I often use on my hops across the pond. I have this overwhelming need to make a call. One of a very personal nature.

The phone dials out and within five rings, the person on the other end picks up.

“I wondered when you’d call.”

“Hello, Father.”

“The student became the teacher. If I wasn’t so angry, I’d say well done.”

Normally, I’d take his bait, today is different. Something is different. I feel…free.

“I didn’t call to argue with you or berate you for all the utterly terrible things you’ve done to me, especially with Kaitlyn.”

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