Page 17 of Crossed By the Stars
Surprise flew across his face. What I didn’t tell him was how Dawson had also been involved as an undercover agent or how Dawson had used the Armaud racing boats to move guns on behalf of the FBI. IfPapaknew how close we’d been tied to it all, he’d be livid.
“Hell, she’s lucky to be alive,” he said quietly. Hewatched me for a moment as the anger left him and sadness appeared—such strange emotions from a man who was normally cheerful and calm. “This is why I’ve always told you to stay away, Dax. The Moris will never bring anything but pain and loss to those in their lives. The darkness of their world doesn’t know how to end in any other way but violence.”
He was right. Butwhat was I to do with the feelings I had whenever she entered the room? The desire to protect her from everything not only in her father’s world but in any world she chose to live in? How could I explain to him that I felt like half of a man every time I turned away from her instead of standing by her side?
I simply told the truth. “I love her.”
Papa’seyes widened.
“It’s impossible. You know that!”
“I do. Obviously. Hence the bags under my eyes and the exhaustion.”
He watched me for a long moment, fighting emotions I’d never seen my father fight before. “You want to be with her anyway. Regardless of what I’ve told you?”
“She isn’t going to be tied to him anymore.”
“She will always be at his beck and call. Always. He will never let her escape.” His anger flew through him again, dark and insidious, like a tumor slowly eating away inside him. This was not my father.
“What aren’t you telling me?” I demanded, sitting up, leaning toward him.
He rubbed his forehead. “He is the reason your aunt Élodie was killed.”
I felt like he’d hit me, and my body shoved back into the chair, air disappearing from my body and making my lungs scream.
“Tell me,” I demanded.
And he had.
The bitter, cold history of our families that could never be changed.
I’d ripped open a scar inside my father that day, caused pain and anguish I never wanted to be the reason for again. So, instead of finally giving in to the feelings I had for her, I’d repeated my actions from our teen years. I’d disappeared from Jada’s life and sought out a different woman to try and wash away my feelings. I’d lost myself in the skin of the nearest female I could find?Benita.
Only, two years hadn’t cleansed me of anything. Every emotion I felt for Jada was still right there, barely concealed below the surface. Unfortunately, tonight, my father’s words had proven true. Tsuyoshi Mori had called, and Jada had gone to him. Even worse, he’d spoken about my aunt as if she were still alive. As if me reminding him of her was nothing more than seeing your friend’s child have the same smile as them. I’d felt my father’s fury inside me at the casualness of it. The complete disregard for what he’d done.
The only thing I could do was to continue to deny the energy and attraction buzzing between Jada and me, even if it drove me to the edge of sanity. Even if it meant I never found what my parents or Dawson and Violet had. Even if it left me feeling like half of a goddamn man torn between two worlds.
Jada
TRYING TO BE GOOD
“Wonderland is far away but there's others, they say
Anyone could change if they wanted to.”
Performed by MØ
Written by Bhattacharyya / Orsted
I’d slept like shit again, anditwas obvious as I looked at myself in the mirror. I dabbed furiously at the dark circles under my eyes in an attempt to hide them. The threatening note, Dax appearing on my doorstep, and the exchange with my father after two years of nothing had me tossing and turning.When I did sleep, it was full of tortured dreams that featured Dax, his tongue, and a constant replay of the earth-shattering orgasm he’d wrenched from me one time in our lives. A single, solitary event that had embedded itself in my soul.
I shook my head, trying to shake away the memories. I needed to get laid. I needed to get lost in something before the void deep inside consumed me. It wasn’t a good mental state to be in, and I knew it. In the past, these feelings would have led to week-long parties hosted in whichever of my father’s homes was closest. Alcohol, drugs, and sex keeping my demons at bay. People coming and going. Music turned up loud and never stopping. A rhythm that would hide the emptiness.
I refused to let that be my life anymore. Instead, I’d fill the emptiness with work and the laundry list of things needing to be done atForce de la Violette.
I gave up on the makeup. If I added more, I’d look like a mannequin who’d undergone some ritualized hazing. I climbed into my pink stilettos, picked up my bag, and headed down the glass staircase.
Rana was waiting for me on the ugliest couch in existence. Maybe I’d go shopping after work. Maybe I’d finally start replacing the things that weren’t mine with things that were.
