Eleven
Maddie dug her fingernail into the black leather chair in front of Enzo’s desk. “Leave my father out of this. He has nothing to do with it, and he’s disgustingly loyal to you.”
She wished she was digging her nail into his eye, especially when his smug expression didn’t budge with her plea.
“No.” He pushed his rolling chair back from behind his desk and stood. “You will leave today, and I will never see you back here again. Do you understand me? I will make certain of it this time.”
Was he threatening her? Exactly how far would he take this?
Before she could wonder any longer, he pulled his wallet from his back pocket, opened it and handed her a wad of bills. A wad of one hundred dollar bills. “I realize your father is important to you. I should’ve been more… accommodating to you when I asked you to stay away from him. I plan to see that you’re taken care of as well as your father. Do I make myself clear?”
“You want to pay me off to not visit my father?”
“He’s free to visit you whenever he likes,” he said, not directly answering her question. “My grandson, however, is out of your life for good.”
She ignored the invisible belt tightening around her chest. “Why do I have to leave today?”
He tapped his fingers against his side in agitation. “You know why.”
“Because Merrick’s here and you’re afraid I’ll spill your secret. Well, I haven’t for almost two years, have I? Why would I do it now?”
Enzo let out a derisive laugh. “When would you have told MJ? It’s not exactly the type of conversation to have over the phone, is it?”
Her frustration ebbed and came dangerously close to defeat, but she wouldn’t be defeated by him again. “When it’s your only option, maybe it is. I’m tired of lying to him. Tired of keeping a secret that shouldn’t be a secret at all.” She stood up and threw her shoulders back, telling herself she wasn’t intimidated by this man, the Old Man who’d controlled her for too long.
He threw his hands out. “So, tell him. See what happens. Let’s see how he takes this news and knowing you’ve been keeping it from him.”
She folded her arms over her chest and glared at him. He was right. “Maybe this isn’t the time, but he’ll find out. This isn’t something you can keep from him forever.”
The corners of his mouth twitched. “I can’t? Who will stop me, Maddie? You?”
She lifted her chin in defiance and held his eyes like it was a staring contest and she’d lose if she looked away or blinked first. But this wasn’t a game and she didn’t know how she could possibly win anyway.
The money practically burned her fingers. She wanted to throw it at him for daring to think handing her a stack of paper earned her loyalty, would keep her from MJ.
She choked back a sob of frustration and strode out of his office. The money in her fist was damp from her nervous, sweaty palm. She opened her fingers and glared at the offensive, crumpled bills in her hand. How much value did the Old Man put on her love for her father? Her history with MJ? However much, it wasn’t enough. There was no amount in the world that would ever be enough.
Maddie wadded up the cash and sat it on a table against the wall in the hallway. Enzo could keep his money. She wanted her father in her life.
She wanted MJ in her life, however she could have him. Friend, acquaintance, distant stranger, she didn’t care. She’d take whatever scraps he’d give her. He was a fixture in her life even if they didn’t work together, and she couldn’t give him up.
“Are you okay, Peach?” Her dad took her by the shoulders. She hadn’t even seen him when she rushed down the hall.
“I’m fine.” She made herself smile and tried to look convincing.
“Good. MJ’s home and he needs you to go meet his father with him.”
“I can’t.” No matter how brave she thought she could be, when it came down to it, she was afraid of Enzo Rocha. She didn’t know his limitations or if he had any.
“Of course you can. You know how difficult this will be for him. He’s been waiting his entire life for this day.” He ran his knuckles over the top of her head. “What’s wrong with you? You’ve never walked away when he’s needed you.”
“You don’t have to.” Tall and broad shouldered, MJ strutted down the hall toward them. His wavy hair was damp, and he smelled like laundry softener and the sporty deodorant he wore. Maddie liked the clean smell of him better than any cologne or aftershave. He stopped in front of her, his jaw clenched and unclenched nervously.
“I’ll go,” she said. Despite the gnawing voice in her head telling her Enzo would make good on his threat, the protective streak she had for MJ kicked in. There was no way she could let him face his dad alone.
MJ shrugged and walked past her, opening the back door. He could play it off, but she could practically see the tension lessening from the stiff line of his shoulders.
She followed him outside. They walked to the golf cart behind the garage in silence, MJ a step ahead and to her right. “I’m not in the best frame of mind to do this after this morning,” he said, getting behind the wheel. His face was a steel trap, locking her out.
He gripped the wheel, and looked straight ahead, pressing on the accelerator and letting out a groan of frustration. “I don’t know what the f*ck to do about you.”
Maddie’s stomach tightened. She’d wanted him so badly this morning. Wanted to purge him out of her system. She couldn’t think straight when he was around, and didn’t trust herself to make a life-altering decision.
The golf cart bumped over a tree root and pushed through the tall grass beside the lake. The guest cottage was only about the length of a football field away. “This is going to be good,” she said, sliding her hand across the seat so her pinkie finger touched his leg. “It’s going to be everything you’ve ever wanted.”
“I stopped wanting this a long time ago.”
He was lying. Talking around the steel trap again. Closing out all emotion so he wouldn’t get hurt. If that was what he had to do, she’d go along with it. She took a chance and squeezed his leg, expecting his muscle to tense under her hand, but he stayed relaxed when she touched him. Maybe he needed her with him after all.
Her fingers ran over a round ridge in his pocket. She traced it and knew immediately what it was. Her ring. He was carrying it with him.
The only thing keeping her heart from jumping out of her chest was the guest cottage door opening and a man coming out, tall and broad like MJ. The same dark, wavy hair. The same self-assured gait as he walked out into the yard with Rachael hanging back a few steps.
Something heavy pressed against Maddie’s chest making it hard to breathe. Merrick was the image of an older MJ. It disoriented her, like she’d somehow slipped into the future.
Maddie turned to MJ and studied his face. She didn’t want to miss a second. She wanted to know him when he was in his thirties. His forties. All his life.
MJ’s eyes were lost, stuck on the man in front of them as he parked the golf cart and sat frozen behind the steering wheel. Maddie still struggled to breathe and hoped Merrick would make the first move.
Tentatively, Rachael approached Merrick and put a hand on his shoulder, urging him forward. Maddie took her cue and squeezed MJ’s leg again. “You have to get out,” she whispered.
He inhaled sharply and blinked a few times, coming out of whatever thoughts were spinning through his mind.
Slipping one leg out, then the other, he stood tall and strode forward, no hesitation in his step. Times like these, Maddie was thankful for his over-inflated ego that took over. He knew how to handle himself and could flip the all-business side of himself on in an instant, drowning what he was thinking and feeling in the dark depths of his eyes.
Maddie got out of the cart and stood beside it. She’d never been so grateful for anything in her life. After all these years, he was here—MJ’s dad was here and they were face-to-face—and she got to be part of it.
She blinked back the wetness in her eyes as a familiar warm band of emotion—she could name it if she let herself—wrapped around her heart.
Merrick, with the sleeves of his white oxford shirt rolled up and the top couple buttons undone, stopped in front of MJ and studied his face with the most amazed and stricken expression Maddie had ever seen on a person. “You’re MJ,” he said.
“I’m MJ.” MJ stood tall in front of his father, though an inch or two shorter. His arms hung at his sides, his chin stiff and tilted up as Merrick took him in.
“I’m…” Merrick glanced over his shoulder to Rachael. She smiled, encouraging him.
“Merrick,” MJ said, lifting the tension. Neither of them wanted to use the “D” word.
“It’s nice to finally meet you,” Merrick said, holding out his hand to shake his son’s. “I’m sorry it took so long, but I didn’t know you existed.”
MJ shook his hand. “I know.”
“I’ll make it up to you.” Merrick had the same dark eyes as MJ. They had the power to hypnotize, to make you believe every word. “Let’s go for a walk. We have a lot to talk about.”
MJ nodded, his fists clenched and unclenched at his sides, like he was letting something go, something he’d held on to tightly for too many years. His eyes darted to Maddie’s, then away again.
She knew in his mind he was merging his past and his present, trying to figure out how all the pieces fit—if they would all fit.
Merrick and MJ took a few awkward steps, side-by-side, attempting a relaxed, friendly stroll. She wanted to tag along and hear every word. She’d played out this moment in her head a thousand times over the years, sometimes with MJ and other times alone in her bed at night. She never once stopped praying for this day to come.
But, as the two of them headed in the direction of the woods, dread seeped into her stomach. They’d visit the grave with the angel on top. The grave that held nothing but secrets and lies.