“Wait,” he said, quickly, laughing, like she’d missed the joke. Like the joke wasn’t him. “Alice. Think about it. We can try it again, now. With your family’s blessing. Your dad isn’t around anymore. You’re free of him, and all the strings that came with him.”
Gabi was right. He was a bridge troll. “You mean the money is free of him. Of the strings. You mean, the inheritance is free of strings.”
Truth flashed in his eyes, something that might have been guilt in another man. He hid it with another stupid laugh. “No. Of course I don’t. I meanweare finally free.”
Since her childhood, Alice had known that she was cloaked in her family’s money—her father’s money. She’d spent a lifetime keeping her distance from other people, holding herself back from making friends, from dating, from living, out of the fear her father had instilled in her—that people would always choose the money over her. That she was nothing on her own. Nothing but her last name. Her father’s net worth.
She’d spent a lifetime trying to be more than her name and this place and these people and just when she’d convinced herself that she had it, with this man and his handsome face and his instinct for gaslighting, he’d left.
And now he was back, sensing new opportunity. Thinking he could lure her in again. Thinking he finally,finallyhad Alice Storm Inc. on the hook.
She thought of Gabi and Roxanne. Of Emily and Claudia. Of Greta and Tony. Of how any one of them would change everything, do anything, be anyone for the other. And then she looked to Griffin, who’d never even tried.
She shook her head. “No. We’re done.”
“Alice.” He reached for her as she spun away, his grip tight on her arm, fingers biting into her flesh until they hurt, bruising as harshly as his tone when he drew close and hissed, “You’re making a big mistake.”
She looked back at him, pulling against his touch, but he didn’t let go, something she didn’t like in his eyes, like anger and desperation and punishment. Shock coursed through her and panic rose in her chest. Would he hurt her? He couldn’t. Not here—not in front of the whole world. Not in front of—
And then Griffin was gone, his whisper replaced by a high-pitched shout as he stumbled backward, and Jack stepped between them, his hands fisting Griffin’s lapels. “You don’t touch her.”
Another shout, sharply cut off, Jack’s broad shoulders hiding what happened from her and everyone else surely gawking at this drama (Elisabeth was going to behorrified), but Alice didn’t have to see it. She heard thethud,followed by the pounding of her own heart. “Jack—”
He didn’t look back as he shook Griffin. “Do you understand me, now?”
“Jack,” Alice said, reaching out to touch him, her hand landing high on his shoulder. “Stop. It’s okay.” He didn’t respond, but he did release Griffin, sending him scrambling backward for balance. And then Tony was there, too, catching Griffin from behind, spinning him to face away from onlookers (bloody noses didn’t make good mourning viewing).
Impossibly, Jack went broader, straighter. As though his body suddenly understood its task. To protect her. He pressed closer to her, making it impossible for her to see Griffin. She liked that, for a moment (she wasn’t proud of it).
“Fuck you, Dean, I wasn’t going to hurt her.” Griffin spoke as Alice was about to leap into the fray, so focused on defusing the situation that she almost didn’t hear the name.
Dean.Jack Dean.
“Wait. What?” Griffin knew Jack’s name. Which should have been impossible, becauseAlicehadn’t even known Jack’s name until five days ago. She looked at the two men as they faced off against each other. The storm clouds returned to Jack’s face. “You know each other.”
They both went still, seeming to understand the weight of the words. Griffin’s gaze went from defensive to shifty.
Jack didn’t have the same kind of difficulty. He said, “I wouldn’t say that.”
Alice narrowed her gaze at the cleverly phrased non-answer. “I would, though.” She looked to Griffin, then, and it was obvious.
They’d been together for five years. She could tell when he was lying, unable to meet her eyes or Jack’s—studiously avoiding Jack’s, actually, as though he were prey hiding from a predator.
He struggled in Tony’s firm grip. “Let go of me.”
Tony’s grunt of refusal was enough to end that.
“You know each other,” she repeated, chest growing tight with something…fear? Doubt? Panic? When Griffin didn’t respond, she looked to Jack, knowing he would tell her the truth.
He did, not even having the grace to look chagrined. “We’ve met.”
Whatever that emotion had been, it evolved with instant clarity into anger. “When?”
A muscle ticked in Jack’s jaw. Unfortunate, that, as it made her want to punch him in it. “When did you have cause to meet Griffin, Jack?”
His gray eyes flashed. “A few months ago.”
Another secret, brought to light by the island.